S IT IT
II
ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA.
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Cntpclopartua Bntanntca:
OR, A •
DICTIONARY
ARTS, SCIENCES, AND MISCELLANEOUS
LITERATURE;
ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.
THE SIXTH EDITION.
Sllustratrt luitf) nrarlp sip InmSrrS ©ngtabmgs.
VOL. H.
INDOCTI DISCANT ; AMENT MEMINISSE PERITI.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY;
AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND COMPANY, 90, CHEAPSIDE,
LONDON.
1823.
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Encyclopaedia Britannica.
AMERICA.
America. \ MERICA (from Americas Vesputius, falsely said
t to be the first discoverer of the continent) ; one
of the four quarters of the world, probably the largest
of the whole, and from its late discovery frequently de¬
nominated the New World.
Boundaries. vast countiy extends, so far as it is known,
from the 8oth degree of north, to the 56th degree of
south latitude •, and, from the 35th to the 165th de¬
gree west longitude from London ; stretching between
8000 and 9000 miles in length, and in its greatest
breadth 3690. It sees both hemispheres, has two sum¬
mers and a double winter, and enjoys all the variety of
climates which the earth affords. It is washed by the
two great oceans. To the eastward it has the Atlan¬
tic, which divides it from Europe and Africa ; to the
west it has the Pacific or Great South sea, by which it
is separated from Asia. By these seas it may, and does,
carry on a direct commerce with the other three parts
of the world.
North and America is not of equal breadth throughout its whole
South con- extent 5 but is divided into two great continents, called
tinent. North and South America^ by an isthmus 1500 miles
long, and which at Darien, about Lat. 90 N. is only
60 miles over. This isthmus forms with the northern
and southern continents, a vast gulf, in which lie a
great number of islands, called the West Indies, in con¬
tradistinction to the eastern parts of Asia, which are
called the East Indies.
Remark- Between the New World and the Old, there are se-
able pre- veral very striking differences ; but the most remarka-
rultnce of ble is the general predominance of cold throughout the
' whole extent of America. Though we cannot, in any
country, determine the precise degree of heat merely
by the distance of the equator, because the elevation
above the sea, the nature of the soil, &c. affect the cli¬
mate ; yet, in the ancient continent, the heat is much
«. more in proportion to the vicinity to the equator than
in any part of America. Here the rigour of the frigid
zone extends over half that which should be temperate
by its position. Even in those latitudes where the win¬
ter is scarcely felt on the old continent, it reigns with
great severity in America, though during a short pe¬
riod. Nor does this cold, prevalent in the new world,
confine itself to the temperate zones ; but extends its
influence to the torrid zone also, considerably mitigat¬
ing the excess of its heat. Along the eastern coast, the
Vat IT T ^ *
climate, though more similar to that of the torrid zone America,
in other parts of the earth, is nevertheless considerably y——>
milder than in those countries of Asia and Africa which
lie in the same latitude. From the southern tropic to
the extremity of the American continent, the cold is said
to be much greater than in parallel northern latitudes
even of America itself.
For this so remarkable difference between the climate
of the new continent and the old, various causes have
been assigned by different authors. The following is
the opinion of the learned Dr Robertson on this sub¬
ject. “ Though the utmost extent of America to- Cr KyL)tI t
wards the north be not yet discovered, we know that son’s rea.
it advances nearer to the pole than either Europe orsons for this
Asia. The latter have large seas to the north, which suPerior de-
are open during part of the year j and, even when co- of c0^’
vered with ice, the wind that blows over them is less j[m(.ricll “
intensely cold than that which blows over land in the VoI. i. p.
same latitude. But, in America, the land stretches 253.
from the river St Lawrence towards the pole, and
spreads out immensely to the west. A chain of enor¬
mous mountains, covered with snow and ice, runs
through all this dreary region. The wind passing over
such an extent of high and frozen land, becomes so im¬
pregnated with cold, that it acquires a piercing keen¬
ness, which it retains in its progress through warmer
climates ; and is not entirely mitigated until it reach
the gulf of Mexico. Over all the continent of North
America, a north-westerly wind and excessive cold are
synonymous terms. Even in the most sultry weather,
the moment that the wind veers to that quarter, its pe¬
netrating influence is felt in a transition from heat to
cold no less violent than sudden. To this powerful
cause we may ascribe the extraordinary dominion of
cold, and its violent inroads into the southern provinces
in that part of the globe.
“ Other causes, no less remarkable, diminish the ac¬
tive power of heat in those parts of the American con¬
tinent which lie between the tropics. In all that por¬
tion of the globe, the wind blows in an invariable di¬
rection from east to west. As this wind holds its course
across the ancient continent, it arrives at the countries
which stretch along the western shore of Africa, inflam¬
ed with all the fiery particles which it hath collected
from the sultry plains of Asia, and the burning sands,
in the African deserts. The coast of Africa is accord-
A ingly
O j
2 AMERICA.
America, ingly the region of the earth which feels the most fer- recorer any considerable degree of heat in its progress America
i v—,, mt ven(- Jjea^ an{} is exposed to the unmitigated ardour of over it. Ihese circumstances concur m rendering tne
the torrid zone. But tins same wind, which brings such
an accession of warmth to the countries lying between
the river of Senegal and Caffraria, traverses the Atlan¬
tic ocean before it reaches the American shore. It is
cooled in its passage over this vast body of water j and
is felt as a refreshinggale along the coasts of Brasil and
Guiana, rendering those countries, though amongst the
warmest in America, temperate, when compared with
those which lie opposite to them in Africa. As this
wind advances in its course across America, it meets
with immense plains covered with impenetrable forests j
or occupied by large rivers, marshes, and stagnating wa¬
ters, where it can recover no considerable degree of heat.
At length it arrives at the Andes, which run from north
to south through the whole continent. In passing over
their elevated and frozen summits, it is so thoroughly
cooled, that the greater part of the countries beyond
them hardly feel the ardour to which they seem exposed
by their situation. In the other provinces of America,
from Terra Firma westward to the Mexican empire, the
heat of the climate is tempered, in some places, by the
elevation of the land above the sea; in others, by their
extraordinary humidity; and in all, by the enormous
mountains scattered over this tract. The islands of A-
merica in the torrid zone are either small or mountain¬
ous, and are fanned alternately by refreshing sea and
land breezes.
“ The causes of the extraordinary cold towards the
southern limits of America, and in the seas beyond it,
cannot be ascertained in a manner equally satisfying.
It was long supposed, that a vast continent, distinguish¬
ed by the name of Terra Australis Incognita, lay be¬
tween the southern extremity of America and the ant¬
arctic pole. The same principles which account for the
extraordinary degree of cold in the northern regions of
America, were employed in order to explain that which
is felt at Cape Horn and the adjacent countries. The
immense extent of the southern continent, and the ri¬
vers which it poured into the ocean, were mentioned
and admitted by philosophers as causes sufficient to oc¬
casion the unusual sensation of cold, and the still more
uncommon appearances of frozen seas in that region of
the globe. But the imaginary continent to which such
influence was ascribed having been searched for in vain,
and the space which it was supposed to occupy having
been found to be an open sea, new conjectures must be
formed with respect to the causes of a temperature of
climate, so extremely different from that which we ex¬
perience in countries removed at the same distance from
the opposite pole.
Ibid.p.451. “ The most obvious and probable cause of this su-
Motc xxxi. perior degree of cold towards the southern extremity
of America, seems to be the form of the continent
there. Its breadth gradually decreases as it stretches
from St Antonio southwards ; and from the bay of St Ju¬
lian to the straits of Magellan its dimensions are much
contracted. On the east and west sides, it is washed
by the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. From its south¬
ern point, it is probable that an open sea stretches to
the antarctic pole. In whichever of these directions
the wind blows, it is cooled before it approaches the
Magellanic regions, by passing over a vast body of
water; nor is the land there of such extent, that it can
2
temperature of the air in this district of America more
similar to that of an insular, than to that of a continen¬
tal climate ; and hinder it from acquiring the same de¬
gree of summer heat with places in Europe and Asia,
in a corresponding northern latitude. The north wind
is the only one that reaches this part of America, after
blowing over a great continent. But, from an atten¬
tive survey of its position, this will be found to have a
tendency rather to diminish than augment the degree
of heat. The southern extremity of America is pro¬
perly the termination of the immense ridge of the An¬
des, which stretches nearly in a direct line from north
to south, through the whole extent of the continent.
The most sultry regions in South America, Guiana,
Brasil, Paraguay, and Tucuman, lie many degrees to
the east of the Magellanic regions. The level country
of Peru, which enjoys the tropical heats, is situated con¬
siderably to the west of them. The north wind, then,
though it blows over land, does not bring to the south¬
ern extremity of America an increase of heat collected
in its passage ever torrid regions ; but, before it arrives
there, it must have swept along the summits of the An¬
des, and become impregnated with the cold of that
frozen region.” _ ^
Another particularity in the climate of America, is Extreme
its excessive moisture in general. In some places, in- moisture ef
deed, on the western coast, rain is not known ; but, in^e Amen-
all other parts, the moistness of the climate is as re-
markable as the cold. The forests wherewith it is 1
everywhere covered, no doubt, partly occasion the
moisture of its climate; but the most prevalent cause is
the vast quantity of water in the Atlantic ami Pacific
oceans, with which America is environed on all sides.
Hence those places where the continent is narrowest are
deluged with almost perpetual rains, accompanied with
violent thunder and lightning, by which some of them,
particularly Porto Bello, are rendered in a manner un¬
inhabitable. g
This extreme moisture of the American climate is Large ri-
productive of much larger rivers there than in any vers, and
other part of the world. The Danube, the Nile, the j^e^ssive^
Indus, or the Ganges, are not comparable to the Mis'of vegeta„
sissippi, the river St Lawrence, or that of the Amazons; tion>
nor are such large lakes to be found anywhere as those
which North America affords. To the same cause we
are also partly to ascribe the excessive luxuriance of all
kinds of vegetables in almost all parts of this country.
In the southern provinces, where the moisture of the
climate is aided by the warmth of the sun, the woods
are almost impervious, and the surface of the ground is
hid from the eye, under a thick covering of shrubs,
herbs, and seeds. In the northern provinces, the fo¬
rests are not encumbered with the same luxuriance of
vegetation ; nevertheless, they afford trees much lar¬
ger of their kind than what are to be found anywhere
else. 7
From the coldness and the moisture of America, an Malignity
extreme malignity of climate has been inferred, and as-of climate
serted by M. de Paw, in his Recherches PhilosophiquesA'^i^i^ ^
Hence, according to his hypothesis, the smallness and ^mcrjca
irregularity of the nobler animals, and the size and
enormous multiplication of reptiles and insects.
But the supposed smallness and less ferocity of the
American
A M E
America. American animals, the ahbe Clavigero observes, in-
-v—~ stead of the malignity, demonstrate the mildness and
History of bounty of the clime, if we give credit to Buffon, at
America, w[]0Se fountain M. de Paw has drank, and of whose
vo1 u‘ testimony he has availed himself against Don Pernetty:
1 * Buffon, who in many places of his Natural History
produces the smallness of the American animals as a
certain argument of the malignity of the climate of
America, in treating afterwards of savage animals, in
tom. ii. speaks thus: “ As all things, even the most
free creatures, are subject to natural laws, and animals
as well as men are subjected to the influence of climate
and soil, it appears that the same causes which have
civilized and polished the human species in our climates,
may have likewise produced similar effects upon other
species. The wolf, which is perhaps the fiercest of all
the quadrupeds of the temperate zone, is, however, in¬
comparably less terrible than the tiger, the lion, and
the panther, of the torrid zone, and the white bear and
hyena of the frigid zone. In America, where the air
and the earth are more mild than those of Africa, the
tiger, the lion, and the panther, are not terrible but in
the name. They have degenerated, if fierceness, join¬
ed to cruelty, made their nature ; or, to speak more
properly, they have only suffered the influence of the
climate ; under a milder sky, their nature also has be¬
come more mild. Fi'om dimes which are immoderate
in their temperature, are obtained drugs, perfumes,
poisons, and all those plants whose qualities are strong.
The temperate earth, on the contrary, produces only
tilings which are temperate ; the mildest herbs, the most
wholesome pulse, the sweetest fruits, the most quiet
animals, and the most humane men, are the natives of
this happy clime. As the earth makes the plants, the
earth and plants make animals •, the earth, the plants,
and the animals, make man. The physical qualities of
man, and the animals which feed on other animals, de¬
pend, though more remotely, on the same causes which
influence their dispositions and customs. This is the
greatest proof and demonstration, that in temperate
climes every thing becomes temperate, and that in in¬
temperate climes every thing is excessive ; and that size
and form, which appear fixed and determinate qualities,
depend, notwithstanding, like the relative qualities, on
the influence of climate. The size of our quadrupeds
cannot be compared with that of the elephant, the rhi¬
noceros, or sea-horse. The largest of our birds are but
small, if compared with the ostrich, the condore, and
ccsoorc.” So far M. Buff’on, whose text we have co¬
pied, because it is contrary to what M. de Paw writes
against the climate of America, and to Buffon himself
in many other places.
If the large and fierce animals are natives of intem¬
perate climes, and small and tranquil animals of tem¬
perate climes, as M. Buffon has here established ; if
mildness of climate influences the disposition and customs
of animals, M. de Paw does not well deduce the malig¬
nity of the climate of America from the smaller size
and less fierceness of its animals; he ought rather to
have deduced the gentleness and sweetness of its climate
from this antecedent. If, on the contrary, the smaller
size and less fierceness of the American animals, with
respect to those of the old continent, are a proof of
their degeneracy, arising from the malignity of the
dime, as M. de Paw would have it, we ought in like
RICA. <
manner to argue the malignity of the climate of Eu- America,
rope from the smaller size and less fierceness of its ani- -
mals, compared with those of Africa. If a philoso¬
pher of the country of Guinea should undertake a work
in imitation of M. de Paw, with this title, Recherches
Philosophiques sur les Europeens, he might avail him¬
self of the same argument which-M. de Paw uses, to
demonstrate the malignity of the climate of Europe,
and the advantages of that of Africa. The climate
of Europe, he would say, is very unfavourable to the
production of quadrupeds, which are found incompara¬
bly smaller and more cowardly than ours. What are
the horse and the ox, the largest of its animals, compa¬
red with our elephants, our rhinoceroses, our sea-horses,
and our camels ? What are its lizards, either in size or
intrepidity, compared with our crocodiles ? its wolves,
its bears, the most dreadful of its wild beasts, when be¬
side our lions and tigers ? Its eagles, its vultures, and
cranes, if compared with our ostriches, appear only like
hens.
As to the enormous size and prodigious multiplica-America
tion of the insects and other little noxious animals, not move
“ The surface of the earth (says M. de Paw), infected infei,ted
by putrefaction, was overrun wish lizards, serpents, rep-tlian otller
tiles, and insects, monstrous for size, and the activity of
their poison, which they drew from the copious juices sects and
of this uncultivated soil, that was corrupted and aban-noxi°us
doned to itself, where the nutritive juice became sharp,aniraa!s,
like the milk in the breast of animals which do not
exercise the virtue of propagation. Caterpillars, crabs,
butterflies, beetles, spiders, frogs, and toads, were, for
the most part, of an enormous corpulence in the spe¬
cies, and multiplied beyond what can be imagined.
Panama is infested with serpents, Carthagena with
clouds of enormous bats, Porto Bello with toads, Suri¬
nam with kakerlacas, or cucarnchas, Guadaloupe, and
the other colonies of the islands, with beetles, Quito,
with niguas or chegoes, and Lima with lice and bugs.
I he ancient kings of Mexico, and the emperors of
Peru, found no other means of ridding their subjects
of those insects which fed upon them, than the impo¬
sition ol an annual tribute of a certain quantity of lice.
Ferdinand Cortes found bags full of them in the palace
of Montezuma.” But this argument, exaggerated as
it is, proves nothing against the climate of America
in general, much less against that of Mexico. There
being some lands in America, in which, on account of
their heat, humidity, or want of inhabitants, large
insects are found, and excessively multiplied, will
prove at most, that in some places the surface of the
earth is infected, as he says, with putrefaction ; but
not that the soil of Mexico, or that of all America, is
stinking, uncultivated, vitiated, and abandoned to it¬
self. If such a deduction were just, M. de Paw might
also say, that the soil of the old continent is barren,
and stinks j as in many countries of it there are prodi¬
gious multitudes of monstrous insects, noxious reptiles,
and vile animals, as in the Philippine isles, in many of
those of the Indian archipelago, in several countries of
the south of Asia, in many of Africa, and even in some
of Europe. I he Philippine isles are infested with
enormous ants and monstrous butterflies, Japan with
scorpions, the south of Asia and Africa with serpents,
Egypt tvith asps, Guinea and Ethiopia with armies
of ants, Holland with field rats, Ukrania with toads,
AMERICA.
a. as M. de Paw himself affirms ; in Italy, the Cam-
pagna di Roma (although peopled for so many ages)
with vipers, Calabria with tarantulas, the shores oi
the Adriatic sea with clouds of gnats *, and even in
France, the population of which is so great and so an¬
cient, whose lands are so well cultivated, and whose
climate is so celebrated by the French, there appeared,
a few years ago, according to M. Buffon, a new spe¬
cies of field mice, larger than the common kind, called
by him surmolots, which have multiplied exceedingly,
to the great damage of the fields. M. Bazin, in his
Compendium of the History of Insects, numbers 77
species of bugs which are all found in Paris and its
neighbourhood. That large capital, as M. Bomare
says, swarms with those disgustful insects. It is true,
that there are places in America, where the multitudes
of insects and filthy vermine make life irksome $ but
we do not know that they have arrived to such excess
of multiplication as to depopulate any place j at least
there cannot be so many examples produced of this
cause of depopulation in the new as in the old conti¬
nent, which are attested by Theophrastus, Varro, Pli¬
ny, and other authors. The frogs depopulated one
place in Gaul, and the locusts another in Africa.
One of the Cyclades was depopulated by mice $ Ami-
clas, near to Taracina, by serpents j another place,
near to Ethiopia, by scorpions and poisonous ants ; and
another by scolopendras : and not so distant from our
own times, the Mauritius was going to have been aban¬
doned on account of the extraordinary multiplication
of rats, as we can remember to have read in a French
author.
With respect to the size of the insects, reptiles, and
such animals, M. de Paw makes use of the testimony
of M. Dumont, who, in his Memoirs on Louisiana,
says, that the frogs are so large there that they weigh
37 French pounds, and their horrid croaking imitates
the bellowing of cows. But M. de Paw himself says
(in his answer to Don Pernetty, cap. 17.), that all
those who have written about Louisiana, from Hene-
pin, Le Clerc, and Cav. Tonti, to Dumont, have con¬
tradicted each other, sometimes on one and sometimes
on another subject. In fact, neither in the old or the
new continent are there frogs of 37 pounds in weight $
but there are in Asia and Africa, serpents, butterflies,
ants, and other animals, of such monstrous size, that
they exceed all those which have been discovered in
the new world. We know very well, that some A-
merican historians say, that a certain gigantic species
of serpents is to be found in the woods, which attract
men with their breath, and swallow them up •, but we
know also, that several historians both ancient and
modern, report the same thing of the serpents of Asia,
and even something more. Megasthenes, cited by
Pliny, said, that there were serpents found in Asia, so
large, that they swallowed entire stags and bulls. Me-
trodorus, cited by the same author, affirms, that in Asia
there were serpents which, by their breath, attracted
birds, however high they were, or quick their flight.
Among the moderns, Gemelli, in vol. v. of his Tour
of the World, when he treats of the animals of the
Philippine isles, speaks thus : “ There are serpents in
these islands of immoderate size; there is one called
ibitin, very long, which suspending itself by the tail
from the trunk of a tree, waits, till stags, bears, and
3
also men pass by, in order to attract them with its
breath, and devour them at once entirely:” From
whence it is evident that this very ancient fable has
been common to both continents.
Further, it may be asked, In what country of Ame¬
rica could M. de Paw find ants to equal those of the
Philippine islands, called sulum, respecting which Her¬
nandez affirms, that they were six fingers breadth in
length, and one in breadth ? Who has ever seen in
America butterflies so large as those of Bourbon, Ter-
nate, the Philippine isles, and all the Indian archipe¬
lago ? The largest bat of America (native of hot shady
countries), which is that called by Buff’on I'ampiro, is,
according to him, of the size of a pigeon. La rou-
gette, one of the species of Asia, is as large as a raven ;
and the rousette, another species of Asia, is as big as a
large hen. Its wings, when extended, measure from
tip to tip three Parisian feet, and according to Ge¬
melli, who measured it in the Philippine isles, six
palms. M. Buffon acknowledges the excess in size of
the Asiatic bat over the American species, but denies
it as to number. Gemelli says, that those of the island
of Luzon were so numerous that they darkened the air,
and that the noise which they made with their teeth,
in eating the fruits of the woods, was heard at the dis¬
tance of two miles. M. de Paw says, in talking of
serpents, “ It cannot be affirmed that the new world
has shewn any serpents larger than those which Mr
Adanson saw in the deserts of Africa.” The greatest
serpent found in Mexico, after a diligent search made
by Hernandez, was 18 feet long j but this is not to be
compared with that of the Moluccas, which Bomare
says is 33 feet in length: nor with the anacondaja of
Ceylon, which the same author says is more than 33 feet
long $ nor with others of Asia and Africa mentioned by
the same author. Lastly, The argument drawn from
the multitude and size of the American insects is fully
as weighty as the argument drawn from the smallness
and scarcity of quadrupeds, and both detect the same
ignorance, or rather the same voluntary and studied for¬
getfulness, of the things of the old continent.
With respect to what M. de Paw has said of the tri¬
bute of lice in Mexico, in that as well as in many other
things he discovers his ridiculous credulity. It is true
that Cortes found bags of lice in the magazines of the
palace of King Axajacatil. It is also true, that Mon¬
tezuma imposed such a tribute, not on all his subjects,
however, but only on those who were beggars j not on
account of the extraordinary multitude of those in¬
sects, as M. de Paw affirms, but because Montezuma,
who could not suffer idleness in his subjects, resolved
that that miserable set of people, who could not la¬
bour, should at least be occupied in lousing themselves.
This was the true reason of such an extravagant tri¬
bute, as Torquemada, Betancourt, and other historians,
relate $ and nobody ever before thought of that which
M. de Paw affirms, merely because it suited his prepos¬
terous system. Those disgusting insects possibly abound
as much in the hair and clothes of American beggars as
of any poor and uncleanly low people in the world $ but
there is not a doubt, that if any sovereign of Europe
was to exact such a tribute from the poor in his domi¬
nions, not only bags but great vessels, might be filled
with them.
At the time America was discovered, it was found
inhabited
A M E
America, inhabited by a race of men no less different from those
w—^ 1 in the other parts of the world, than the climate and
9 natural productions of this continent are different from
CeneraUlc- t||0Se 0j- £uropej Asia, or Africa. One great peculia-
tbe satires. r‘ty native Americans is their colour, and the
identity of it throughout the whole extent of the con¬
tinent. In Europe and Asia, the people who inhabit
the northern countries are of a fairer complexion than
those who dwell more to the southward. In the tor¬
rid zone, both in Africa and Asia, the natives are en¬
tirely black, or the next thing to it. This, however,
must be understood with some limitation. The people
of Lapland, who inhabit the most northerly part of
Europe, are by no means so fair as the inhabitants of
Britain $ nor are the Tartars so fair as the inhabitants
of Europe who lie under the same parallels of latitude.
Nevertheless a Laplander is fair when compared with
an Abyssinian, and a Tartar, if compared with a native
of the Molucca islands. In America, this distinction
of colour was not to be found. In the torrid zone there
were no negroes, and in the temperate and frigid zones
there were no white people. All of them were of a kind
ofred coppercolour, which Mr Forster, observed, in the
Pesserays of Terra del Fuego, to have something of a
gloss resembling that metal. It doth not appear, how¬
ever, that this matter hath ever been inquired into with
sufficient accuracy. The inhabitants of the inland parts
of South America, where the continent is widest, and
consequently the influence of the sun the most power¬
ful, have never been compared with those of Cana¬
da, or more northerly parts, at least by any person of
credit. Yet this ought to have been done, and that
in many instances too, before it could be asserted so
positively as most authors do, that there is not the least
difference of complexion among the natives of America.
Indeed, so many systems have been formed concerning
them, that it is very difficult to obtain a true know¬
ledge of the most simple facts. If we may believe the
Abbe Raynal, the Californians are swarthier than the
Mexicans j and so positive is he in his opinion, that he
gives a reason for it. “ This difference of colour,” says
he, “ proves, that the civilized life of society subverts,
or totally changes, the order and laws of nature, since
we find under the temperate zone, a savage people that
are blacker than the civilized nations of the torrid zone.”
—On the other hand, Dr Robertson classes all the in¬
habitants of Spanish America together with regard to
colour, whether they are civilized or uncivilized j and
when he speaks of California, takes no notice of any
peculiarity in their colour more than others. The ge¬
neral appearance of the indigenous Americans in vari¬
ous districts is thus described by the Chevalier Pinto :
“ They are all of a copper colour, with some diversity
of shade, not in proportion to their distance from the
equator, but according to the degree of elevation of
the territory in which they reside. Those who live in
a high country are fairer than those in the marshy low
lands on the coast. Their face is round ; farther re¬
moved, perhaps, than that of any people from an oval
shape. 1 heir forehead is small $ the extremity of their
ears far from the face; their lips thickj their nose flat j
their eyes black, or of a chesnut colour, small, but ca-
pable of discerning objects at/ag-yeat distance. Their
hair is always thick and sleek* ;apd without any ten¬
dency to curl, At the first aspect, a South American
RICA. 5
appears to be mild and innocent: but, on a more atten- America.
tive view, one discovers in his countenance something -v— '
W’ild, distrustful, and sullen.” IO
The following account of the native Americans is Don Ulloa’s
given by Don Antonio Ulloa, in a work entitled Afe-account.
moires Phtlosophiques, Historiques, et PZiysiques, con-
cernant la decouverte de JAmerique, lately published..
The American Indians are naturally of a colour bor¬
dering upon red. Their frequent exposure to the sun
and wind changes it to their ordinary dusky hue. The
temperature of the air appears to have little or no in¬
fluence in this respect. There is no perceptible differ¬
ence in complexion between the inhabitants of the high
and those of the low parts of Peru j yet the climates
are of extreme difference. Nay, the Indians who live
as far as 40 degrees and upwards south or north of the
equator, are not to be distinguished, in point of colour,
from those immediately under it.
There is also a general conformation of features and
person, which more or less characterizes them all.
Their chief distinctions, in these respects, are a small
forehead, partly covered with hair to the eyebrows, lit¬
tle eyes j the nose thin, pointed, and bent towards the
upper lip ; a broad face*, large ears; black, thick, and
lank hair ; the legs well formed, the feet small, the bo¬
dy thick and muscular ; little or no beard on the face,
and that little never extending beyond a small part of
the chin and upper lip. It may easily be supposed that
this general description cannot apply, in all its parts, to
every individual; but all of them partake so much of
it, that they may be easily distinguished even from the
mulattoes, who come nearest to. them in point of co¬
lour.
The resemblance among all the American tribes is
not less remarkable in respect to their genius, character,
manners, and particular customs. The most distant
tribes are, in these respects, as similar as though they
formed but one nation.
All the Indian nations have a peculiar pleasure in
painting their bodies of a red colour, with a certain spe¬
cies of earth. The mine of Guan^avelica was former¬
ly of no other use than to supply them with this mate¬
rial for dyeing their bodies; and the cinnabar ex¬
tracted from it was applied entirely to this purpose.
The tribes in Louisiana and Canada have the same pas¬
sion ; hence minium is the commodity most in demand
there.
It may seem singular that these nations, whose na¬
tural colour is red, should affect the same colour as an
artificial ornament. But it may be observed, thatthev
do nothing in this respect but what corresponds to the
practice of Europeans, who also study to heighten and
display to advantage the natural red and white of their
compjexions. The Indians of Peru have now indeed
abandoned the custom of painting their bodies : but it
was common among them before they were conquered
by the Spaniards ; and it still remains the custom of all ,
those tribes who have preserved their liberty. The nor¬
thern nations of America, besides the red colour which
is predominant, employ also black, white, blue, and
green, in painting their bodies. it
The adjustment of these colours is a matter of as Pcculhiri-
great consideration with the Indians of Louisiana and ties m rc*
the vast regions extending to the north, as the orna- namcnt and
ments of dress among the most polished nations. The dress.
business
5 A M E
America, business itself they call mactacher, and they do not fail
—-v   to apply all their talents and assiduity to accomplish it
in the most finished manner. No lady of the greatest
fashion ever consulted her mirror ivith more anxie ty,
than the Indians do while painting their bodies. 'I he
colours are applied with the utmost accuracy and ad-
dress. Upon the eyelids, precisely at the root of the
eyelashes, they draw two lines as fine as the smallest
thread ; the same upon the lips, the openings of the
nostrils, the eyebrows, and the ears} of which last they
even follow all the inflexions and sinuosities. As to
the rest of the face, they distribute various figures, in
all which the red predominates, and the other colours
are assorted so as to throw it out to the best advantage.
The neck also receives its proper ornament} a thick
coat of vermilion commonly distinguishes the cheeks.
ITive or six hours are requisite for accomplishing all this
with the nicety which they alfect. As their first at¬
tempts do not always succeed to their wish, they ellace
them, and begin anew upon a better plan. No co¬
quette is more fastidious in her choice of ornament,
none more vain when the important adjustment is fi¬
nished. Their delight and self-satisfaction, are then so
great, that the mirror is hardly ever laid down. An In¬
dian mactached to his mind is the vainest of all the hu¬
man species. The other parts of the body are left in
their natural state, and, excepting what is called a co-
checu/, they go entirely naked.
Such of them as have made themselves eminent for
kravery, or other qualifications, are distinguished by
figures paicted on their bodies. They introduce the
colours by making punctures on their skin, and the ex¬
tent of surface which this ornament covers is propor¬
tioned to the exploits they have performed. Some
paint only their arms, others both their arms and legs,
others again their thighs } while those who have attain¬
ed the summit of warlike renown, have their bodies
painted from the waist upwards. This is the heraldry
of the Indians ; the devices of which are probably more
exactly adjusted to the merits of the persons who bear
them than those of more civilized countries.
Besides these ornaments, the warriors also carry
plumes of feathers on their heads, their arms, and
ancles. These likewise are tokens of valour, and none
but such as have been thus distinguished may wear them.
The propensity to indolence is equal among all the
tribes of Indians, civilized or savage. The only em¬
ployment of those who have preserved their independ¬
ence is hunting and fishing. ’ In some districts the wo¬
men exercise a little agriculture in raising Indian corn
and pompions, of which they form a species of aliment
by bruising them together: they also prepare the ordi¬
nary beverage in use among them, taking care, at the
same time, of the children, of whom the fathers take
no charge.
The female Indians of all the conquered regions of
South America practise what is called the urcu (a word
which among them signifies elevation). It consists in
throwing forward the hair from the crown of the head
upon the brow, and cutting it round from the ears to
above the eye } so that the forehead and eyebrows are
entirely covered. The same custom takes place in the
northern countries. The female inhabitants of both
regions tie the rest of their hair behind, so exactly
in the same fashion, that it might be supposed the ef-
l I C A.
feet of mutual imitation. T his, however, being im- America,
possible, from the vast distance that separates them, —y—
is thought to countenance the supposition of the whole
of America being originally planted with one race of
people.
This custom does not take place among the males.
Those of the higher parts of Peru wear long and flow¬
ing hair, which they reckon a great ornament. In the
lower parts of the same country they cut it short, on
account of the heat of the climate } a circumstance in
which they imitate the Spaniards. rlhe inhabitants of
Louisiana pluck out their hair by the roots from the
crown of the head forwards, in order to obtain a large
forehead, otherwise denied them by nature. The rest
of their hair they cut as short as possible, to prevent
their enemies from seizing them by it in battle, and al¬
so to prevent them from easily getting their scalp,
should they fall into their hands as prisoners. 12
The whole race of American Indians is distinguished Remark-
by thickness of skin and hardness of fibres: circum-^1®.^nsen'’
stances which probably contribute to that insensibility pajn * **
to bodily pain for which they are remarkable. An in¬
stance of this insensibility occurred in an Indian who
was under the necessity of submitting to be cut for the
stone. This operation, in ordinary cases, seldom lasts
above four or five minutes. Unfavourable circumstances
in his case prolonged it to the uncommon period of 27
minutes. Yet all this time the patient gave no tokens of
the extreme pain commonly attending this operation :
he complained only as a person does who feels some
slight uneasiness. At last the stone was extracted.
Two days after, he expressed a desire for food, and on
the eighth day from the operation, he quitted his bed,
free from pain, although the wound was not yet tho¬
roughly closed. The same want of sensibility is obser¬
ved in cases of fractures, wounds, and other accidents
of a similar nature. In all these cases their cure is
easily effected, and they seem to suffer less present pain
than any other race of men. The skulls that have been
taken up in their ancient burying-grounds are of a
greater thickness than that bone is commonly found,
being from six to seven lines from the outer to the in¬
ner superficies. The same is remarked as to the thick¬
ness of their skins.
It is natural to infer from hence, that their compa¬
rative insensibility to pain is owing to a coarser and
stronger organization than that of other nations. The 13
ease with which they endure the severities of cli-J'nd to the
mate is another proof of this. The inhabitants of
higher parts of Peru live amidst perpetual frost antl wcat^ers
snow. Although their clothing is very slight, they sup¬
port this inclement temperature without the least in¬
convenience. Habit, it is to be confessed, may contri¬
bute a good deal to this, but much also is to be ascribed
to the compact texture of their skins, which defends
them from the impression of cold through their pores.
The northern Indians resemble them in this respect.
The utmost rigours of the winter season do not prevent
them from following the chase almost naked. It is
true, they wear a kind of woollen cloak, or sometimes
the skin of a wild beast, upon their shoulders ; but be¬
sides that it covers only a small part of their body, it
would appear that th$y;use it rather for ornament than
warmth. In fact,K they ’wear it indiscriminately, in
the severities of wihtet ^nd in the most sultry heats of
summer.
AMERICA.
America, summer, when neither Europeans nor negroes can suf-
) fer any but the slightest clothing. They even frequently
throw aside this cloak when they go a hunting, that it
may not embarrass them in traversing their forests, where
they say the thorns and undergrowth would take hold of
it $ while, on the contrary, they slide smoothly over the
surface of their naked bodies. At all times they go
with their heads uncovered, without suffering the least
inconvenience, either from the cold, or from those coups
de soldi, which in Louisiana are so often fatal to the in¬
habitants of other climates.
The Indians of South America distinguish them¬
selves by modern dresses, in which they aflect various
tastes. Those of the high country, and of the valleys
in Peru, dress partly in the Spanish fashion. Instead
of hats they wear bonnets of course double cloth, the
weight of which neither seems to incommode them
when they go to warmer climates, nor does the acci¬
dental want of them seem to be felt in situations where
the most piercing cold reigns. Their legs and feet are
always bare, if we except a sort of sandals made of the
skins of oxen. The inhabitants of South America,
compared with those of North America, are described
as generally more feeble in their frame, less vigorous
in the efforts of their mind, of gentler dispositions,
more addicted to pleasure, and sunk in indolence.—
This, however, is not universally the case. Many of
Terrible ^le*r nations are as intrepid and enterprising as any
trials un- others on the whole continent. Among the tribes on
dergone by the banks of the Oroonoko, if a warrior aspires to the
their chiefs, post of a captain, his probation begins with a long fast,
more rigid than any ever observed by the most abste¬
mious hermit. At the close of this the chiefs as¬
semble 5 and each gives him three lashes with a large
whip, applied so vigorously, that his body is almost
flayed. If he betrays the least symptom of impatience,
or even of sensibility, he is disgraced for ever, and re¬
jected as unworthy of the honour. After some inter¬
val, his constancy is proved by a more excruciating
trial. He is laid in his hammock with his hands bound
fast •, and an innumerable multitude of venomous ants,
whose bite occasions violent pain and inflammation,
are thrown upon him. The judges of his merit stand
around the hammock; and whilst these cruel insects
fasten upon the most sensible parts of his body, a sigh,
a groan, or an involuntary motion expressive of what
he sufl'ers, would exclude him from the dignity of
which he is ambitious. Even after this evidence, his
fortitude is not deemed to be sufficiently ascertained,
till he has stood another test more severe, if possible,
than the former. He is again suspended in his ham¬
mock, and covered with the leaves of the palmetto. A
fire of stinking herbs is kindled underneath, so as he
may feel its heat, and be involved in smoke. Though
scorched and almost suffocated, he must continue to
endure this with the same patient insensibility. Many
perish in this essay of their firmness and courage j but
such as go through it with applause, receive the ensigns
of their new dignity with much solemnity, and are ever
after regarded as leaders of approved resolution, whose
behaviour in the most trying situations, will do honour
to. their country. In North America, the previous
trial of a warrior is neither so formal nor so severe :
Though, even there, before a youth is permitted to
bear arms, his patience and fortitude are proved by
blows, by fire, and by insults, more intolerable to a America
haughty spirit than either. s— >
Of the manners and customs of the North Ameri- x5
cans more particularly, the following is the most con--
sistent account that can be collected from the best in-[jonsotThe"
formed and most impartial writers. North A-
When the Europeans first arrived in America, they mericans
found the Indians quite naked, except those parts m01'e Pai'U’-
which even the most uncultivated people usually con-CU aI
ceal. Since that time, however, they generally use a
coarse blanket, which they buy of the neighbouring
planters.
Their huts or cabins are made of stakes of wood
driven into the ground, and covered with branches of
trees or reeds. They lie on the floor, either on mats
or the skins of wild beasts. Their dishes are of tim¬
ber } but their spoons are made of the skulls of wild
oxen, and their knives of flint. A kettle and a large
plate constitute almost the whole utensils of the family.
Their diet consists chiefly in what they procure by
hunting j and sagamite, or pottage, is likewise one
of their most common kinds of food. The most ho¬
nourable furniture among them are the scalps of their
enemies j with these they ornament their huts, which
are esteemed in proportion to the number of this sort of
spoils.
The character of the Indians is altogether founded
upon their circumstances and way of life. A people
who are constantly employed in procuring the means
of a precarious subsistence, who live by hunting the
wild animals, and who are generally engaged in war
with their neighbours, cannot be supposed to enjoy
much gaiety of temper, or a high flow of spirits. The
Indians therefore are in general grave even unto sad¬
ness : they have nothing of that giddy vivacity peculiar 16
to some nations of Europe, and they despise it. Their xheir re¬
behaviour to those about them is regular, modest, and markable
respectful. Ignorant of the arts of amusement, ofPens*ve?es3
which that of saying trifles agreeably is one of the mostaml .taci*>
considerable, they never speak, but when they have1" 1 '*
something important to observe 5 and all their actions,
words, and even looks, are attended with some mean¬
ing. This is extremely natural to men who are almost
continually engaged in pursuits which to them are of
the highest importance. Their subsistence depends en¬
tirely on what they procure with their hands j and
their lives, their honour, and every thing dear to them^
may be lost by the smallest inattention to the designs
of their enemies. As they have no particular object
to attach them to one place rather than another, they
fly wherever they expect to find the necessaries of life
in greatest abundance. Cities, which are the effects of
agriculture and arts, they have none. The diflerent
tribes or nations are for the same reason extremely
small, when compared with civilized societies, in which
industry, arts, agriculture, and commerce, have united
a vast number of individuals whom a complicated lux¬
ury renders useful to one another, These small tribes
live at an immense distance j they are separated by a
desert frontier, and hid in the bosom of impenetrable
and almost boundless forests.
There is established in each society a certain species Form of go¬
of government, which over the whole continent ofA-vernment
merica prevails with exceeding little variation j because amonS
over the whole of this continent the manners and way
of,
$ AMERICA.
America, of life are nearly similar and uniform. Without arts,
—it——' riches, or luxury, the great instruments of subjection
in polished societies, an American has no method by
which he can render himself considerable among his
companions, but by superiority in personal qualities of
body or mind. But as Nature has not been very lavish
in her personal distinctions, where all enjoy the same
education, all -are pretty much equal, and will desire
to remain so. Liberty, therefore, is the prevailing
passion of the Americans 5 and their government, un¬
der the influence of this sentiment, is better secured
than by the wisest political regulations. They are very
far, however, from despising all sort of authority ; they
are attentive to the voice of wisdom, which experience
lias conferred on the aged, and they enlist under the
tanners of the chief in whose valour and military ad¬
dress they have learned to repose their confidence. In
every society, therefore, there is to be considered the
power of the chief and of the elders ; and, according
as the government inclines more to the one or to the
other, it may be regarded as monarchical, or as a spe¬
cies of aristocracy. Among those tribes which are
most engaged in war, the power of the chief is natu¬
rally predominant; because the idea of having a mili¬
tary leader was the first source of his superiority, and
the continual exigencies of the state requiring such a
leader, will continue to support, and even to enhance
it. His power, however, is rather persuasive than co¬
ercive $ he is reverenced as a father, rather than feared
as a monarch. He has no guards, no prisons, no offi¬
cers of justice ; and one act of ill-judged violence would
pull him from the throne. The elders, in the other
form of government, which may be considered as an
aristocracy, have no more power. In some tribes, in¬
deed, there are a kind of hereditary nobility, whose in¬
fluence, being constantly augmented by time, is more
considerable. (See the article Niagara). But this
source of power which depends chiefly on the imagi¬
nation, by which we annex to the merit of our contem¬
poraries that of their forefathers, is too refined to be ve¬
ry common among the natives of America. In most
countries, therefore, age alone is sufficient for acquiring
respect, influence, and authority. It is age which
18 teaches experience, and experience is the only source of
Their pu- knowledge among a barbarous people. Among those
bjic^assem- persons, business is conducted with the utmost simplici-
1C*‘ ty, and which may recal to those who are acquainted
with antiquity a picture of the most early ages. The
heads of families meet together in a house or cabin ap¬
pointed for the purpose. Here the business is discussed j
and here those of the nation, distinguished for their elo¬
quence or wisdom, have an opportunity of displaying
those talents. Their orators, like those of Homer, ex¬
press themselves in a bold figurative style, stronger than
refined, or rather softened, nations can well bear, and
with gestures equally violent, but often extremely natu¬
ral and expressive. When the business is over, and
they happen to be well provided with food, they ap¬
point a feast upon the occasion, of which almost the
whole nation partakes. The feast is accompanied with
a song, in which the real or fabulous exploits of their
forefathers are celebrated. They have dances too,
though, like those of the Greeks and Romans, chiefly
of the military kind ; and their music and dancing ac¬
company every feast.
To assist their memory, they have belts of small Amerieft.
shells or beads, of different colours, each representing1 . if
a particular object, which is marked by their colour
and arrangement. At the conclusion of every subject w 19
on which they discourse, when they treat with a foreign or belts.1*
state, they deliver one of those belts 5 for if this cere¬
mony should be omitted, all that they have said passes
for nothing. These belts are carefully deposited in
each town, as the public records of the nation 5 and to
them they occasionally have recourse, when any public
contest happens with a neighbouring tribe. Of late, as
the materials of which those belts are made have be¬
come scarce, they often give some skin in place of the
wampum (the name of the beads), and receive in re¬
turn presents of a more valuable kind from our commis¬
sioners ; for they never consider a treaty as of any
weight, unless every article in it be ratified by such a
gratification.
It often happens, that those different tribes or nations,
scattered as they are at an immense distance from one
another, meet in their excursions after prey. If there
subsists no animosity between them, which seldom is the
case, they behave in the most friendly and courteous
manner 5 but if they happen to be in a state of war, or
if there has been no previous intercourse between them,
all who are not friends are deemed enemies, and they
fight with the most savage fury.
War, if we except hunting, is the only employment Their wa*s.
of the men : as to every other concern, and even the
little agriculture they enjoy, it is left to the women.
Their most common motive for entering into war,
when it does not arise from an accidental rencounter
or interference, is either to revenge themselves for the
death of some lost friends, or to acquire prisoners who
may assist them in their hunting, and whom they adopt
into their society. These wars are either undertaken
by some private adventurers, or at the instance of the
whole community. . In the latter case, all the young
men who are disposed to go out to battle (for no one
is compelled contrary to his inclination), give a bit of
wood to the chief, as a token of their design to ac¬
company him ; for every thing among those people is
transacted with a great deal of ceremony and many
forms. The chief who is to conduct them fasts seve- Ceremoaiee
ral days, during which he converses with no one, and before set-
is particularly careful to observe his dreams; which ting oat.
the presumption natural to savages generally renders as
favourable as he could desire. A variety of other su¬
perstitions and ceremonies are observed. One of the
most hideous is setting the war-kettle on the fire, as an
emblem that they are going out to devour their ene¬
mies ; which among some nations must formerly have
been the case, since they still continue to express it in
clear terms, and use an emblem significant of the an¬
cient usage. Then they dispatch a porcelain, or large
shell, to their allies, inviting them to come along, and
drink the blood of their enemies. For with the Ame¬
ricans, as with the Greeks of old,
“ A generous friendship no cold medium knows ;
“ But with one love, with one resentment, glows.”
They think that those in their alliance must not only
adopt their enmities, but have their resentment wound
up to the same pitch with themselves. And indeed
no people carry their friendship or their resentment so
far
AMERICA,
Awwrfca, far 33 tbey do j and this is what should be expected from
1 their peculiar circumstances $ that principle in human
nature which is the spring of the social affections, acts
with so much the greater force the more it is restrained.
The Americans, who live in small societies, who see
few objects and few persons, become wonderfully at¬
tached to these objects and persons, and cannot be de¬
prived of them without feeling themselves miserable.
Their ideas are too confined to enable them to enter¬
tain just sentiments of humanity, or universal benevo¬
lence. But this very circumstance, while it makes
them cruel and savage to an incredible degree towards
those with whom they are at war, adds a new force to
their particular friendships, and to the common tie
which unites the members of the same tribe, or of those
different tribes which are in alliance with one another.
Without attending to this reflection, some facts we are
going to relate would excite our wonder, without in¬
forming our reason j and we should be bewildered in a
number of particulars, seemingly opposite to one an¬
other, without being sensible of the general cause from
which they proceed.
Having finished all the ceremonies previous to the
war, and the day appointed for their setting out on the
expedition being arrived, they take leave of their friends,
and exchange their clothes, or whatever moveables they
have, in token of mutual friendship j after which they
proceed from the town, their wives and female relations
walking before, and attending them to some distance.
The warriors march all dressed in their finest apparel
and most showy ornaments, without any order. The
chief walks slowly before them, singing the war-song,
while the rest observe the most profound silence. When
they come up to their women, they deliver them all
their finery, and putting on their worst clothes, pro-
25 ceed on their expedition.
StiHgus. Every nation has its peculiar ensign or standard,
which is generally some beast, bird, or fish. Those
among the Five Nations are the bear, otter, wolf, tor¬
toise, and eagle ; and by these names the tribes are
usually distinguished. They have the figures of those
animals pricked and painted on several parts of their
bodies j and when they march through the woods, they
commonly, at every encampment, cut the representa¬
tion of their ensign on trees, especially after a success-
32 ful campaign ; marking at the same time the number of
Military scalps or prisoners they have taken. Their military
k*bits. dress is extremely singular. They cut off or pull out
all their hair, except a spot about the breadth of two
English crown pieces, near the top of their heads, and
entirely destroy their eyebrows. The lock left upon
their heads is divided into several parcels, each of
which is stiffened and adorned with wampum, beads,
and feathers of various kinds, the whole being twisted
into, a form much resembling the modern pompoon.
i heir heads are painted red down to the eyebrows,
and sprinkled over with white down. The gristles of
their ears are split almost quite round, and distended
with wires or splinters so as to meet and tie together
on the nape of the neck. These are also hung with
ornaments, and generally bear the representation of
some bird or beast. Their noses are likewise bored and
hung with trinkets of beads, and their faces painted
with various colours, so as to make an awful appear¬
ance. I heir breasts are adorned with a gorget or
Vox.. II. Part I. 6 +
medal, of brass, copper, or some other metal, and that America.
dreadful weapon the scalping knife hangs by a string   v——
from their neck.
The great qualities in an Indian war are vigilance
and attention, to give and to avoid a surprise 5 and in¬
deed in these they are superior to all nations in the 24
world. Accustomed to continual wandering in the Quic*5111®5 »
forests, having their perceptions sharpened by keen ne-^^*^
cessity, and living in every respect according to nature,
their external senses have a degree of acuteness w hich
at first view appears incredible. They can trace out
their enemies at an immense distance by the smoke of
their fires, which they smell, and by the tracks of
their feet on the ground, imperceptible to an Euro¬
pean eye, but which they can count and distinguish
with the utmost facility. 1 hey can even distinguish
the different nations with whom they are acquainted,
and can determine the precise time when they passed,
where an European could not, with all his glasses, di¬
stinguish footsteps at all. These circumstances, how-
evey, are ol small importance, because their enemies
are no less acquainted with them. When they go out,
therefore, they take care to avoid making use of any
thing by which they might run the danger of a disco-
very. They light no fire to warm themselves or to
prepare their victuals : they lie close to the ground all
day, and travel only in the night j and marching along
in files, he that closes the rear diligently covers with
leaves the tracks of his own feet and of theirs who
preceded him. When they halt to refresh themselves,
scouts are sent out to reconnoitre the country, and beat and cir-
up every place where they suspect an enemy to lie con-cumspev-
cealed. In this manner they enter unawares the vil-t'0I,■
lages of their foes ; and, while the flower of the nation
are engaged in hunting, massacre all the children, wo¬
men, and helpless old men, or make prisoners of as
many as they can manage, or have strength enough to
be useful to their nation. But when the enemy is ap¬
prised of their design, and coming on in arms Against
them, they throw themselves flat on the ground among
the withered herbs and leaves, which their faces are
painted to resemble. Then they allow a part to pass
unmolested, when all at once, with a tremendous shout,
rising up from their ambush, they pour a storm of mus¬
ket bullets on their foes. The party attacked returns
the same cry. Every one shelters himself with a tree, °
and returns the fire of the adverse party, as soon as 5
they raise themselves from the ground to give a se¬
cond fire. Thus does the battle continue until the
one party is so much weakened as to be incapable of
farther resistance. But if the force on each side con¬
tinues nearly equal, the fierce spirits of the savages,
inflamed by the loss of their friends, can no longer be
restrained. They abandon their distant war, they rush
upon one another with clubs and hatchets in their
bands, magnifying their own courage, and insulting
their enemies with the bitterest reproaches. A cruel
combat ensues, death appears in a thousand hideous
forms, which would congeal the blood of civilized na¬
tions to behold, but which rouse the fury of savages.
Tdiey trample, they insult over the dead bodies, tear¬
ing the scalp from the head, wallowing in their blood
like wild beasts, and sometimes devouring their flesh.
Hie flame rages on till it meets with no resistance j
then the prisoners are secui’ed, those unhappy men,
B whose
AMERICA.
27
Treatment
ef their pri
saner*.
28
Shocking
torture*.
whose fate is a thousand times more dreadful than theirs
who have died in the field. The conquerors set up a
hideous howling to lament the friends they have lost.
They approach in a melancholy and severe gloom to
their own village j a messenger is sent to announce their
arrival, and the women, with frightful shrieks, come
out to mourn their dead brothers or their husbands.
When they are arrived, the chief relates in a low voice
to the elders a circumstantial account ot every parti¬
cular of the expedition. The orator proclaims aloud
this account to the people ; and as he mentions the
names of those who have fallen, the shrieks of the wo¬
men are redoubled. The men too join in these cries,
according as each is most connected with the deceased
by blood or friendship. The last ceremony is the pro¬
clamation of the victory : each individual then forgets
his private misfortunes, and joins in the triumph of his
nation ; all tears are wiped from their eyes, and by an
unaccountable transition, they pass in a moment from
the bitterness of sorrow to an extravagance of joy. But
the treatment of the prisoners, whose fate all this time
remains undecided, is what chiefly characterizes the
savages.
We have already mentioned the strength of their af¬
fections or resentments. United as they are in small
societies, connected within themselves by the firmest
ties, their friendly affections, which glow with the
most intense warmth within the walls ol their own vil¬
lage, seldom extend beyond them. They feel nothing
for the enemies of their nation ; and their resentment
is easily extended from the individual who has injured
them to all others of the same tribe. The prisoners,
who have themselves the same feelings, know the in¬
tentions of their conquerors, and are prepared for them.
The person who has taken the captive attends him to
the cottage, where, according to the distribution made
by the elders, he is to be delivered to supply the loss
of a citizen. If those who receive him have their fa¬
mily weakened by war or other accidents, they adopt
the captive into the family, of which he becomes a
member. But if they have no occasion for him, or
their resentment for the loss of their friends be too
high to endure the sight of any connected with those
who were concerned in it, they sentence him to death.
All those who have met with the same severe sentence
being collected, the whole nation is assembled at the
execution, as for some great solemnity. A scaffold
is erected, and the prisoners are tied to the stake, where
they commence their death-song, and prepare for the
ensuing scene of cruelty with the most undaunted cou¬
rage. Their enemies, on the other side, are determin¬
ed to put it to the proof, by the most refined and ex¬
quisite tortures. They begin at the extremity of his
body, and gradually approach the more vital parts.
One plucks out his nails by the roots, one by one j
another takes a finger into his mouth, and tears off the
flesh with his teeth ; a third thrusts the finger, mangled
as it is, into the bowl of a pipe made red hot, which
he smokes like tobacco j then they pound his toes and
fingers to pieces between two stones ; they cut circles
about his joints, and gashes in the fleshy parts of his
Jimbs, which they sear immediately with red-hot irons,
cutting, burning, and pincing them alternately 5 they
pull off his flesh, thus mangled and roasted, bit by bit,
devouring it with greediness, and smearing their faces
with the blood in an enthusiasm of horror and fury. Ameries.
When they have thus torn off the flesh, they twist the v >
bare nerves and tendons about an iron, tearing and
snapping them, whilst others are employed in pulling
and extending their limbs in every way that can in¬
crease the torment. This continues often five or six
hours; and sometimes, such is the strength of the sa¬
vages, days together. Then they frequently unbind
him, to give a breathing to their fury, to think what
new torments they shall inflict, and to refresh the
strength of the sufferer, who, wearied out with such a
variety of unheard-of torments, often falls into so pro¬
found a sleep, that they are obliged to apply the fire to
awake him, and renew his sufferings. He is again
fastened to the stake, and again they renew their cruel¬
ty } they stick him all over with small matches of
wood that easily takes fire, but burns slowly j they con¬
tinually run sharp reeds into every part of his body j
they drag out his teeth with pincers, and thrust out his
eyes j and lastly after having burned his flesh from the
bones with slow fires } after having so mangled the body
that it is all but one wound; after having mutilated hb
face in such a manner as to carry nothing human in it j
after having peeled the skin from the head, and poured
a heap of red-hot coals or boiling water on the naked
skull—they once more unbind the wretch } who, blind,
and staggering with pain and weakness, assaulted and
pelted upon every side with clubs and stones, now’ up,
now down, falling into their fires at every step, runs,
hither and thither, until one of the chiefs, whether out
of compassion, or weary of cruelty, puts an end to his life
with a club or dagger. The body is then put into a
kettle, and this barbarous employment is succeeded by a
a feast as barbarous.
The women, forgetting the human as well as the
female nature, and transformed into something worse
than furies, even outdo the men in this scene of hor¬
ror ", while the principal persons of the country sit
round the stake, smoking and looking on without the ^
least emotion. What is most extraordinary, the suf-Constancy
ferer himself, in the little intervals of his torments, ot the su£-
smokes too, appears unconcerned, and converses with tcrers.
his torturers about different matters. Indeed, during
the whole time of his execution, there seems a contest
which shall exceed, they in inflicting the most horrid
pains, or he in enduring them with a firmness and con¬
stancy almost above human : not a groan, not a sigh,
not a distortion of countenance escapes him ; he pos¬
sesses his mind entirely in the midst of his torments j
he recounts his own exploits $ he informs them what
cruelties he has inflicted upon their countrymen, anti
threatens them with the revenge that will attend his
death *, and, though his reproaches exasperate them to
a perfect madness of rage and fury, he continues his
insults even of their ignorance of the art of torment¬
ing, pointihg out himself more exquisite methods, and
more sensible parts of the body to be afllicted. The
women have this part of courage as well as the men $
and it is as rare for an Indian to behave otherwise, as
it would be for any European to suffer as an Indian.
Such is the wonderful power of an early institution,
and a ferocious thirst of glory. “ I am brave and in¬
trepid (exclaims the savage in the face of his tormen¬
tors) •, l do not fear death, nor any kind of tortures j
those who fear them are cowards j they are less than
women j
A M E
America, women : life is nothing to those who have courage :
* v—May my enemies be confounded with despair and rage !
Oh ! that I could devour them, and drink their blood
30 to the last drop.”
Surprising But neither the intrepidity on one side, nor the in-
'.n flexibility on the other, are among themselves matter
can elmrac-astonishment: for vengeance, and fortitude in the
ter, midst of torment, are duties which they consider as
sacred ; they are the effects of their earliest education,
and depend upon principles instilled into them from their
infancy. On all other occasions they are humane and
compassionate. Nothing can exceed the warmth of their
affection toward their friends, who consist of all those
who live in the same village, or are in alliance with it.
Among these all things are common ; and this, though
it may in part arise from their not possessing very di¬
stinct notions of separate property, is chiefly to be at¬
tributed to the strength of their attachments ; because
in every thing else, with their lives as w’ell as their for¬
tunes, they are ready to serve their friends. Their
houses, their provisions, even their young women, are
not enough to oblige a guest. Has any one of these
succeeded ill in his hunting ; has his harvest failed 5
or is his house burned—he feels no other effect of his
misfortune, than that it gives him an opportunity of
experiencing the benevolence and regard of his fellow-
citizens. On the other hand, to the enemies of his
country, or to those who have privately offended, the
American is implacable. He conceals his sentiments,
he appears reconciled, until by some treachery or sur¬
prise he has an opportunity of executing a horrible re¬
venge. No length of time is sufficient to allay his re¬
sentment-, no distance of place great enough to protect
the object: he crosses the steepest mountains, he pier¬
ces the most impracticable forests, and traverses the
most hideous bogs and deserts for several hundreds of
miles; bearing the inclemency of the seasons, the fatigue
of the expedition, the extremes of hunger and thirst, with
patience and cheerfulness, in hopes of surprising his
enemy, on whom he exercises the most shocking bar¬
barities, even to the eating of his flesh. To such ex-
tiemes do the Indians push their friendship or their en¬
mity ; and such indeed, in general, is the character of
31 all strong and uncultivated minds.
J/theiT”1 . Burt -Avhat. We have. Said resPecting the Indians would
dead ? . fc picture, did we omit observing the force of
fricads. their friendship, which principally appears by the treat¬
ment of their dead. \Yhen any one of the society is
cut off, he is lamented by the whole. On this occasion
a thousand ceremonies are practised, denoting the most
lively sorrow. No business is transacted, however pres¬
sing, till all the pious ceremonies due to the dead are
performed. The body is washed, anointed, and paint¬
ed. Then the women lament the loss with hideous
bowlings, intermixed with songs which celebrate the
great actions of the deceased and his ancestors. The
men mourn in a less extravagant manner. The wdiole
village is present at the interment, and the corpse is
habited in the most sumptuous ornaments. Close to
the body of the defunct are placed his bows and ar¬
rows, with whatever he valued most in his life, and a
quantity of provisions for his subsistence on the journey
which he is supposed to take. This solemnity, like every
ot er, is attended with feasting. The funeral being
em.ed, the relations of the deceased confine themselves
B I C A. 3
to their hut for a considerable time to indulge their America,
grief. After an interval of some weeks they visit the <——.
grave, repeat their sorrow, new clothe the remains of
the body, and act over again all the solemnities of the
funeral.
Among the various tokens of their regard for their
deceased friends, the most remarkable is what they call
the feast of the dead, or the feast of soids. The day for
this ceremony is appointed in the council of their chief’s,
who give orders for every thing which may enable them
to celebrate it with pomp and magnificence } and the
neighbouring nations are invited to partake of the en¬
tertainment. At this time all who have died since the
preceding feast of the kind are taken out of their graves.
Even those who have been interred at the greatest di¬
stance from the villages are diligently sought for, and
conducted to this rendezvous of the dead, which exhibits
a scene of horror beyond the power of description.—
When the feast is concluded, the bodies are dressed in
the finest skins which can be procured, and after being-
exposed for some time in this pomp, are again committed
to the earth with great solemnity, which is succeeded
by funeral games.
Their taste for war, which forms the chief ingre- Supemi-
dient in their character, gives a strong bias to their re-ta,ns*
ligion. Areskoui, or the god of battle, is revered as
the great god of the Indians. Him they invoke be¬
fore they go into the field ; and according as his dis¬
position is more or less favourable to them, they con¬
clude they will be more or less successful. Some na¬
tions worship the sun and moon ; among others there
are a number of traditions, relative to the creation of
the world and the history of the gods: traditions which
resemble the Grecian fables, but which are still more
absurd and inconsistent. But religion is not the pre¬
vailing character of the Indians : and except when
they have some immediate occasion for the assistance of
their gods, they pay them no sort of worship. Like
all rude nations, however, they are strongly addicted
to superstition. They believe in the existence of a
number of good and bad genii or spirits, who inter¬
fere in the affairs of mortals, and produce all our hap¬
piness or misery. It is from the evil genii, in parti¬
cular, that our diseases proceed ; and it is to the good
genii we are indebted for a cure. The ministers of
the genii are the jugglers, who are also the only phy¬
sicians among the savages. These jugglers are suppos¬
ed to be inspired by the good genii, most commonly
in their dreams, with the knowledge of future events ;
they are called in to the assistance of the sick, and are
supposed to be informed by the genii whether they
will get over the disease, and in what way they must
be treated. But these spirits are extremely simple in
their system of physic, and, in almost every disease,
direct the juggler to the same remedy. The patient
is enclosed in a narrow cabin, in the midst of which is
a stone red hot: on this they throw water, until he is
well soaked with the warm vapour and his own sweat.
Then they hurry him from this bagnio, and plunge
him suddenly into the next river. This coarse method,
which costs many their lives, often performs very ex¬
traordinary cures. The jugglers have likewise the use
of some specifics of wonderful efficacy ; and all the
savages are dexterous in curing wounds by the applica¬
tion of herbs. But the power of these remedies is al«
B 2 ways
J 2 A M E R
America* ways attributed to the magical ceremonies with which
^ they are administered.
"3 Though the women generally hear the laborious part
rondition of domestic economy, their condition is far from being
^ 'V°' so slavish as it appears. On the contrary, the greatest
respect is paid by the men to the female sex. ihe wo¬
men even hold their councils, and have their share in all
deliberations which concern the state. Polygamy is
practised by some nations, but is not general. In most,
they content themselves with one wife j but a divorce is
admitted in case of adultery. No nation of the Ameri¬
cans is without a regular marriage, in which there are
many ceremonies j the principal of which is, the bride s
presenting the bridegroom with a plate of their corn.
The women, though before incontinent, are remarkable
for chastity after marriage.
Their ar- Liberty, in its full extent, being the darling passion
dent love ofof the Indians, their education is directed in such a
liberty.
. 35
Crimes and
punish¬
ments.
36
Peculiar
manners
©f different
nations.
manner as to cherish this disposition to the utmost.
Hence children are never upon any account chastised
with blows, and they are seldom even reprimanded.
Reason, they say, will guide their children when they
come to the use of it, and before that time, their faults
cannot be very great : but blows might damp their free
and martial spirit, by the habit of a slavish motive to
action. When grown up, they experience nothing like
command, dependence, or subordination j even strong
persuasion is industriously withheld by those who have
influence among them.—No man is held in great esteem,
unless he has increased the strength of his country with
a captive, or adorned his hut with a scalp of one of his
enemies.
Controversies among the Indians are few, and quick¬
ly decided. When any criminal matter is so flagrant
as to become a national concern, it is brought under
the jurisdiction of the great council : but in ordinary
cases, the crime is either revenged or compromised by
the parties concerned. If a murder be committed, the
family which lias lost a relation prepares to retaliate on
that of the offender. They often kill the murderer ;
and when this happens, the kindred of the last person
slain look upon themselves to be as much injured, and
to have the same right to vengeance, as the other party.
In general, however, the offender absents himself ; the
friends send compliments of condolence to those of the
person that has been murdered. The head of the fa¬
mily at length appears with a number of presents, the
delivery of which he accompanies with a formal speech.
The whole ends, as usual, in mutual feastings, songs,
and dances. If the murder is committed by one of
the same family or cabin, that cabin has the full right
of judgment within itself, either to punish the guilty
wjth death, or to pardon him, or to oblige him to give
some recompense to the wife or children of the slain.
Instances of such a crime, however, very seldom hap¬
pen ; for their attachment to those of the same family
is remarkably strong, and is said to produce such friend¬
ships as may vie with the most celebrated in fabulous
antiquity.
Such, in general, are the manners and customs of the
Indian nations 5 hut, every tribe has something pecu¬
liar to itself. Among the Hurons and Natches, the
dignity of the chief is hereditary, and the right of suc¬
cession in the female line. When this happens to be
3,
I C A.
extinct, the most respectable matron of the tribe makes
choice of whom she pleases, to succeed.
The Cherokees are governed by several sachems or
chiefs, elected by the different villages } as are also the
Creeks and Cbactavvs. rl he two latter punish adultery
in a woman by cutting off her hair, which they will not
suffer to grow till the corn is ripe the next season j but
the Illinois, for the same crime, cut off the women’s
A me vie*.
noses and ears.
The Indians on the lakes are formed into a sort of
empire j and the emperor is elected from the eldest tribe,
which is that of the Ottowawaws. He has the greatest
authority of any chief that has appeared on the conti¬
nent since our acquaintance with it. A fevy yeais ago,
the person who held this rank formed a design of unit¬
ing all the Indian nations under his sovereignty j but he
miscarried in the attempt. 37
In general, the American Indians live to a great age, Longevity
although it is not possible to know from themselves theJ^the
exact number of their years. It was asked of an In¬
dian, who appeared to be extremely old, what age he
was of? I am above twenty, was his reply. Upon
putting the question in a different form, by reminding
him of certain circumstances in former tunes, My machu,
said he, spoke to me when I was young of the Incas ;
and he had seen these princes. According to this re¬
ply, there must have elapsed, from the date of his ma-
chu’s (his grandfather’s) remembrance to that time, a
period of at least 232 years. The man who made this
reply appeared to be 120 years of age : for, besides the
whiteness of his hair and heard, his body was almost
bent to the ground j without, however, showing any
other marks of debility or suffering. This happened
in 1764. This longevity, attended in general with un¬
interrupted health, is probably the consequence in pait
of their vacancy from all serious thought and employ¬
ment, joined also with the robust texture and conforma¬
tion of their bodily organs. If the Indians did not de¬
stroy one another in their almost perpetual wars, and if
their habits of intoxication were not so universal and
incurable, they would be, of all the races of men who
inhabit the globe, the most likely to prolong, not only
the bounds, but the enjoyments, of animal life to their
utmost duration.
Let us now attend to other pictures which have other pie-
been given of the aboriginal inhabitants of the newtures ot the
world. The vices and defects of the American ln-Americans,
dians have by several writers been most unaccountably
aggravated, and every virtue and good quality denied
them. Their cruelties have been already described
and accounted for. The following anecdote of an Al¬
gonquin woman we find adduced as a remarkable
proof of their innate thirst of blood. That nation
being at war with the Iroquois, she happened to he
made prisoner, and was carried to one of the villages
belonging to them. Here she was stripped naked, and
her hands and feet bound with ropes in one of their
cabins. In this condition she remained ten days, the
savages sleeping round her every night. The e^even^1 Anecdotes
night, while they were asleep, she found means to Ais-0fan Al-
engage one of her hands, with which she immediatelygonquia
freed herself from the ropes, and went to the door, woman.
Though she had now an opportunity of escaping unper¬
ceived, ,
A M E
America, ceived, her revengeful temper could not let slip so fa-
vourahle an opportunity of killing one of her enemies.
The attempt was manifestly at the hazard of her own
life ; yet, snatching up a hatchet, she killed the savage
that lay next her ; and, springing out of the cabin, con¬
cealed herself in a hollow tree which she had observed
the day before. The groans of the dying person soon
alarmed the other savages, and the young ones imme¬
diately set out in pursuit of her.—Perceiving from her
tree, that they all directed their course one way, and
that no savage was near her, she left her sanctuary, and,
flying in an opposite direction, ran into a forest with¬
out being perceived. The second day after this hap¬
pened, her footsteps were discovered, and they pursued
her with such expedition, that the third day she disco¬
vered her enemies at her heels. Upon this she threw
herself into a pond of water; and, diving among some
weeds and bulrushes, she could just breath above wa¬
ter without being perceived. Her pursuers, after ma¬
king the most diligent search, were forced to return.—
For 35 days this woman held on her course through
woods and deserts, without any other sustenance than
roots and wild berries. When she came to the river
St Lawrence, she made with her own hands a kind of
a wicker raft, on which she crossed it. As she went by
the French fort Trots Rivieres, without well knowing
where she was, she perceived a canoe full of savages ;
and, fearing they might be Iroquois, run again into the
woods, where she remained till sunset.—Continuing
her course, soon after she saw the Trois Rivieres; and
was then discovered by a party whom she knew to be
Hurons, a nation in alliance with the Algonquins. She
then squatted down behind a bush, calling out to them
that she was not in a condition to be seen, because she
was naked. They immediately threw her a blanket,
and then conducted her to the fort, where she recounted
her story.
Personal courage has been denied them. In proof
of their pusillanimity, the following incidents are quot¬
ed from Charlevoix by Lord Karnes, in his Sketches of
the History of Man. “ The fort de Vercheres in Ca¬
nada, belonging to the French, was, in the year 1690,
attacked by some Iroquois. They approached silently,
preparing to scale the palisade, when some musket shot
made them retire. Advancing a second time, they were
again repulsed, wondering that they should discover none
but a woman who was seen everywhere. This was
Madame de Vercheres, who appeared as resolute as if
supported by a numerous garrison. The hopes of storm¬
ing a place without men to defend it occasioned reite¬
rated attacks. After two days siege, they retired, fear¬
ing to be intercepted in their retreat. Two years after,
a party of the same nation appeared before the fort so
unexpectedly, that a girl of fourteen, daughter of the
proprietor, had but time to shut the gate. With the
young woman there was not a soul but one raw soldier,
bhe showed herself with her assistant, sometimes in one
place and sometimes in another; changing her dress fre¬
quently, in order to give some appearance of a garrison ;
and always fired opportunely. The faint-hearted Iro¬
quois decamped without success.”
There is no instance, it is said, either of a single In¬
dian facing an individual of any other nation in fair
and open combat, or of their jointly venturing to try
ihe fate of battle with an equal number of any foes.
4®
Kepioach-
<*d with
pUtillani-
sait r.
RICA. 13
Even with the greatest superiority of numbers, they America.
dare not meet an open attack. Yet, notwithstanding ' 1 v !
this want of courage, they are still formidable ; nay,
it lias been known, that a small party of them has
routed a much superior body of regular troops : but
this can only happen when they have surprised them in
the fastnesses of their forests, where the covert of the
wood may conceal them until they take their aim with
the utmost certainty. After one such discharge they
immediately retreat, without leaving the smallest trace
of their route. It may easily be supposed, that an on¬
set of this kind must produce confusion even among the
steadiest troops, when they can neither know the num¬
ber of their enemies, nor perceive the place where they
lie in ambush.
Perfidy combined with cruelty has been also made a Accused of
part of their character. Hon Ulloa relates. That the In- perfidy,
dians of the country called Natc/ies, in Louisiana, laid
a plot for massacring in one night every individual be¬
longing to the French colony established there. This
plot they actually executed, notwithstanding the seem¬
ing good understanding that subsisted between them
and these European neighbours. Sucli was the secre¬
cy which they observed, that no person had the least
suspicion of their design until the blow was struck.
One Frenchman alone escaped, by favour of the dark¬
ness, to relate the disaster of his countrymen. The
compassion of a female Indian contributed also in some
measure to his exemption from the general massacre.
The tribe of Natches had invited the Indians of other
countries, even to a considerable distance, to join in
the same conspiracy. The day, or rather the night,
was fixed, on which they were to make an united at¬
tack on the French colonists. It was intimated by
sending a parcel of rods, more or less numerous accord¬
ing to the local distance of each tribe, with an injunc¬
tion to abstract one rod daily ; the day on which the
last fell to be taken aw7ay being that fixed for the exe¬
cution of their plan. The women were partners of the
bloody secret. The parcels of rods being thus distri¬
buted, that belonging to the tribe of Natches happen¬
ed to remain in the custody of a female. This woman,
either moved by her own feelings of compassion, or by
the commiseration expressed by her female acquaint¬
ances in the view of the proposed scene of bloodshed,
abstracted one day three or four of the rods, and thus
anticipated the term of her tribe’s proceeding to the
execution of the general conspiracy. The consequence
of this w7as, that the Natches were the only actors in
this carnage; their distant associates having still seve¬
ral rods remaining at the time when the former made
the attack. An opportunity was thereby given to the
colonists in those quarters to take measures for their
defence, and for preventing a more extensive execution
of the design.
It was by conspiracies similar to this that the Indians
of the province of Macas, in the kingdom of Quito,
destroyed the opulent city of Logrogno, the colony ©f
Guambaya, and its capital Sevilla del Oro ; and that
so completely, that it is no longer known in what place
these settlements existed, or where that abundance of
gold was found from which the last-mentioned city took
the addition to its name. Like ravages have been com¬
mitted upon 1’Imperiale in Chili, the colonies of the.
Missions of Chuncas, those of Darien in Terra Firms,.
and ,
14 A M E
America, and many other places which have afforded scenes of
'—"—this barbarous ferocity. These conspiracies are always
carried on in the same manner. The secret is invio¬
lably kept, the actors assemble at the precise hour ap¬
pointed, and every individual is animated with the same
sanguinary purposes. The males that fall into their
hands are put to death with every shocking circum¬
stance that can be suggested by a cool and determined
cruelty. The females are carried off, and preserved as
' monuments of their victory, to be employed as their
occasions require.
Nor can this odious cruelty and treachery, it is said,
be justly ascribed to their subjection to a foreign yoke,
seeing the same character belongs equally to all the
original inhabitants of this vast continent, even those
who have preserved their independence most complete¬
ly. Certain it is, continues he, that these people, with
the most limited capacities for every thing else, display
an astonishing degree of penetration and subtlety with
respect to every object that involves treachery, blood¬
shed, and rapine. As to these, they seem to have been
all educated at one school ; and a secret, referring to
any such plan, no consideration on earth can extort from
42 them.
Their im- Their understandings also have been represented as
(lei.Wand- noj. les^ contemptible than their manners are gross and
niff re ore- * .
sented as brutal. Many nations are neither capable of lorming
weak. an arrangement for futurity 5 nor does their solicitude
or foresight extend so far. They set no value upon
those things of which they are not in some imme¬
diate want. In the evening, when a Carib is going to
rest, no consideration will tempt him to sell his ham¬
mock j hut in the morning he will part with it for
the slightest trifle. At the close of winter, a North
American, mindful of what he has suffered from the
cold, sets himself with vigour to prepare materials for
erecting a comfortable but to protect him against the
inclemency of the succeeding season : but as soon as
the weather becomes mild, he abandons his work, and
4, never thinks of it more till the return of the cold
Alleged in- compels him to resume it.—In short, to be free from
dolenceand labour seems to be the utmost wish of an American,
stupidity. ’j,jley wiU continue whole days stretched in their ham¬
mocks, or seated on the earth, without changing their
posture, raising their eyes, or uttering a single word.
They cannot compute the succession of days nor of
weeks. The different aspects of the moon alone engage
their attention as a measure of time. Of the year they
have no other conception than what is suggested to
them by the alternate heat of summer and cold of win¬
ter nor have they the least idea of applying to this
period the obvious computation of the months which
it contains. When it is asked of any old man in Peru,
even the most civilized, what age he is of j the only an¬
swer he can give is the number of caciques he has seen.
It often happens, too, that they only recollect the most
distant of these princes in whose time cex-tain circum¬
stances had happened peculiarly memorable, while of
those that lived in a more recent period they have lost
all remembrance.
The same gross stupidity is alleged to be observable
in those Indians who have retained their original liberty.
They are never known to fix the dates of any events in
their minds, or to trace the succession of circumstances
that have arisen from such events. Their imagination
2
R I C A.
takes in only the present, and in that only what inti- Aiaeric*,
mately concerns themselves. Nor can discipline or in- —v—■"
struction overcome this natural defect of apprehension.
In fact, the subjected Indians in Peru, who have a con¬
tinual intercourse with the Spaniards, who are furnish¬
ed with curates perpetually occupied in giving them
lessons of religion and morality, and who mix with all
ranks of the civilized society established among them,
are almost as stupid and barbarous as their countrymen
who have had no such advantages. The Peruvians,
while they lived under the government of their Incas,
preserved the records of certain remarkable events.
They had also a kind of regular government, described
by the historians of the conquest of Peru. This go¬
vernment originated entirely from the attention and abi¬
lities of their princes, and from the regulations enacted
by them for directing the conduct of their subjects.
This ancient degree of civilization among them gives
ground to presume, that their legislators sprung from
some race more enlightened than the other tribes of In¬
dians j a race of which no individual seems to remain
in the present times.
Vanity and conceit are said to be blended with their'pheir^a-
ignorance and treachery. Notwithstanding all they nity and
suffer from Europeans., they still, it is said, consider couceiu
themselves as a race of men far superior to their con¬
querors. This proud belief, arising from their perverted
ideas of excellence, is universal over the whole known
continent of America. They do not think it possible
that any people can be so intelligent as themselves.
When they are detected in any of their plots, it is their
common observation, that the Spaniards, or Viracohas,
want to be as knowing as they are. Those of Loui¬
siana, and the countries adjacent, are equally vain of
their superior understanding, confounding that quality
with the cunning which they themselves constantly
practise. The whole object of their transactions is to
overreach those with whom they deal. Yet, though
faithless themselves, they never forgive the breach of
promise on the part of others. While the Europeans
seek their amity by presents, they give themselves no
concern to secure a reciprocal friendship. Hence, pro¬
bably, arises their idea, that they must be a superior
race of men, in ability and intelligence, to those who
are at such pains to court their alliance and avert their
enmity. 45
Their natural eloquence has also been decried. The ^ ^e’r eh>"
free tribes of savages who enter into conventions with !S‘
the Europeans, it is observed, are accustomed to make* 1
long, pompous, and, according to their own notions,
sublime harangues, but without any method or connec¬
tion. The whole is a collection of disjointed meta¬
phors and comparisons. The light, heat, and course
of the sun, form the principal topic of their discourse;
and these unintelligible reasonings are always accompa¬
nied with violent and ridiculous gestures. Numberless
repetitions prolong the oration, which, if not inter¬
rupted, would last whole days : At the same time,
they meditate very accurately beforehand, in order to
avoid mentioning any thing but what they are desirous
to obtain. This pompous faculty of making speeches
is also one of the grounds on which they conceive them¬
selves to be superior to the nations of Europe : They
imagine that it is their eloquence that procures them
the favours they ask. The subjected Indians converse
precisely
A M E
America, precisely in the same style. Prolix and tedious, they
l—-v——never know when to stop ; so that, excepting by the
difterence in language, it would be impossible, in this
respect, to distinguish a civilized Peruvian from an
inhabitant of the most savage districts to the north¬
ward.
4<>
All these But such partial and detached views as the above,
news jwr- were they even free from misrepresentation, are not the
free from 0tjust grou11^ upon which to form an estimate of their
Biisrepro- character. Their qualities, good and bad (for they cer-
sentation. tainly possess both), their way of life, the state of so¬
ciety among them, with all the circumstances of their
condition, ought to be considered in connexion, and
in regard to their mutual influence. Such a view has
been given in the preceding part of this article : from
which, it is hoped, their real character may be easily
deduced.
Many of the disagreeable traits exhibited in the anec¬
dotes just quoted, are indeed extracted from Don Ulloa,
an author of credit and reputation, but a Spaniard,
and evidently biassed in some degree by a desire to pal¬
liate the enormities of his countrymen in that quarter
of the globe. And with regard to the worst and least
equivocal parts of the American character, cruelty and
revenge, it may be fairly questioned, whether the in¬
stances of these, either in respect of their cause or their
atrocity, be at all comparable to those exhibited in Eu¬
ropean history, and staining the annals of Christendom :
—to those, for instance, of the Spaniards themselves, at
their first discovery of America j to those indicated by
the engines found on board their mighty Armada ; to
those which, in cold blood, were perpetrated by the
Dutch at Amboyna $ to the dragoonings of the French j
to tbeir religious massacres $ or even to the tender mer-
^ cfw of the Inquisition ?
The physi- harsher, however, are the descriptions given by
«al fieserip-Buffbn and de Paw of the natives of this whole conti-
H°ffS °f nent» *n which the most mortifying degeneracy of the
De Paw re-human race> as well as of all the inferor animals, is
futed. asserted to be conspicuous. Against those philoso-
Ilist. of phers, or rather theorists, the Americans have found
Mexico, an able advocate in the abbe Clavigero ; an historian
w .m, whose situation and long residence in America afford-
* him the best means of information, and who, though
himself a subject of Spain, appears superior to preju¬
dice, and disdains in his description the glosses of po¬
licy.
Concerning the stature of the Americans, M. de Paw
, says in general, that although it is not equal to the
stature of the Castilians, there is but little difference
between them. But the abbe Clavigero evinces that
the Indians who inhabit those countries lying between
9 and 40 degrees of north latitude, which are the li¬
mits of the discoveries of the Spaniards, are more than
five Parisian feet in height, and that those who did not
seaeh that stature are as few in number among the Indi¬
ans as they are amongst the Spaniards. It is besides
certain that many of those nations, as the Apaches,
the Hiaquesc, the Pimcsc, and Cochimtes, are at least as
tall as the tallest Europeans; and that, in all the vast
extent of the new world, no race of people has been
iound, except the Esquimaux, so diminutive in stature
as the Laplanders, the Samojeds, and Tartars, in the
north of the old continent. In this respect, therefore,
R I C A.
the inhabitants of the two continents are upon an
equality.
Of the shape and character of the Mexican Indians
the abbe gives a most advantageous description 5 which
he asserts no one who reads it in America will contra¬
dict, unless he views them with the eye of a prejudi¬
ced mind. It is true, that Ulloa says, in speaking of
the Indians of Quito, he had observed, “ that imperfect
people abounded among them ; that they were either
irregularly diminutive, or monstrous in some other re¬
spect 5 that they became either insensible, dumb, or
blind, or wanted some limb of their body.” Having
therefore made some inquiry respecting this singularity
of the Quitans, the abbe found that such defects were
neither caused by bad humours, nor by the climate,
but by the mistaken and blind humanity of their paT
rents, who, in order to free their children from the
hardships and toils to which the healthy Indians are
subjected by the Spaniards, fix some deformity or weak¬
ness upon them, that they may become useless : a cir¬
cumstance of misery which does not happen in other
countries of America, nor in those places of the same
kingdom of Quito, where the Indians are under no
such oppression. M. de Paw, and, in agreement with
him, Dr Robertson, says, that no deformed persons are
to be found among the savages of America $ because
like the ancient Lacedemonians, they put to death
those children which are born hunch-backed, blind,
or defective in any limb j but that in those countries
where they are formed into societies, and the vigilance
of their rulers prevents the murder of such infants,
the number of their deformed individuals is greater
than it is in any country of Europe. This would
make an exceeding good solution of the difficulty
if it were true j but if, possibly, there has been in A~
merica a tribe of savages who have imitated the bar¬
barous example of the celebrated Lacedemonians, it is
certain that those authors have no grounds to impute
such inhumanity to the rest of the Americans j for that
it has not been the practice, at least with the far
greater part of those nations, is to be demonstiated
from the attestations of authors the best acquainted
with their customs.
A merioii.
4S
Stature,
shape. 5c e.
No argument against the new world can he drawn F 49
from the colour of the Americans ; for their colour is cernTn/^
less distant from the white of the Europeans than it is their want
from the black of the Africans, and a great part of the beard,
Asiatics. The hair of the Mexicans, and of the greater ^c‘
part of the Indians, is, as we have already said, coarse
and thick ; on their face they appear to have little, and
in general none on their arms and legs : but it is an
error to say, as M. de Paw does, that they are entirely
destitute of hair on all the other parts of their body.
This is one of the many passages of the Philosophical
Researches, at which the Mexicans, and all the other
nations, must smile to find an European philosopher so
eager to divest them of the dress they had from nature.
Don Ulloa, indeed, in the description which he gives
of the Indians of Quito, says, that hair neither grows
upon the men nor upon the women when they arrive
at puberty, as it does on the rest of mankind 5 but,
whatever singularity may attend the Quitans, or occa¬
sion this circumstance, there is no doubt that among
the Americans in general, the period of puberty is ac¬
companied with the same symptoms as it is among
other r
16 A M E
America, other nations of the world. In fact, with the North
' v——Americans, it is disgraceful to be hairy on the body.
They say it likens them to hogs. They therefore pluck
out the hair as fast as it appears. But the traders who
marry their women, and prevail on them to discontinue
this practice, say, that nature is the same with them as
with the whites. As to the beards of the men, had
Buffon or De Paw known the pains and trouble it costs
them to pluck out by the roots the hair that grows on
their faces, they would have seen that nature had
not been deficient in that respect. Every nation has
its customs. “ I have seen an Indian beau, with a look-
ing-glass in his hand (says Mr Jefferson), examining his
face for hours together, and plucking out by the roots
every hair he could discover, with a kind of tweezer
made out of a piece of brass wire, that had been twist¬
ed round a stick, and which he used with great dex-
terity.”
Their form The very aspect of an Angolan, Mandingan, or Con-
aad aspect gan, would have shocked M. de Paw, and made him
®®n^ra®ted recal that censure which he passes on the colour, the
of 8ome°SC ma^e» an<^ ha*r> ^ie Americans. What can be ima-
•ther na- gined more contrary to the idea we have of beauty, and
tioiis. the perfection of the human frame, than a man whose
body emits a rank smell, whose skin is as black as ink,
whose head and face are covered with black wool in¬
stead of hair, whose eyes are yellow and bloody, whose
lips are thick and blackish, and wlrose nose is flat ?
Such are the inhabitants of a very large portion of A-
frica, and of many islands of Asia. What men can be
more imperfect than those who measure no more than
four feet in stature, whose faces are long and flat, the
nose compressed, the irides yellow-black, the eyelids
turned back towards the temples, the cheeks extraor¬
dinarily elevated, their mouths monstrously large, their
lips thick and prominent, and the lower part of their
visages extremely narrow ? Such, according to Count
de Buffon, are the Laplanders, the Zemblans, the Bo-
randines, the Samojeds, and Tartars in the east. What
objects more deformed than men whose faces are too
long and wrinkled even in their youth, their noses thick
and compressed, their eyes small and sunk, their cheeks
very much raised, their upper jaw low, their teeth
long and disunited, eyebrow's so thick that they shade
the eyes $ the eyelids thick, some bristles on their
faces instead of beard, large thighs and small legs ?
Such is the picture Count de Buffon gives of the Tar¬
tars y that is, of those people who, as he says, inhabjt
a tract of land in Asia 1200 leagues long and upwards,
and more than 750 broad. Among these the Cal-
mucks are the most remarkable for their deformity $
which is so great, that, according to Tavernier, they
are the most brutal men of all the universe. Their faces
are so broad, that there is a space of five or six inches
between their eyes, according as Count de Buffon
himself affirms. In Calicut, in Ceylon, and other
countries of India, there is, say Pyrard and other wri¬
ters on these regions, a race of men who have one or
both of their legs as thick as the body of a man ; and
that this deformity among them is almost hereditary.
The Hottentots, besides other gross imperfections,
have that monstrous irregularity attending them, of a
callous appendage extending from the os pubis down¬
wards, according to the testimony of the historians of
the Cape of Good Hope. Struys, Gemelli, and other
RICA.
travellers affirm, that in the kingdom of Lambry, in Awsrw*,'
the islands of Formosa and of Mindoro, men have been -y—j
found with tails. Bomare says, that a thing of this
kind in men is nothing else than an elongation of the
os coccygis $ but what is a tail in quadrupeds but the
elongation of that bone, though divided into distinct
articulations ? However it may be, it is certain, that
that elongation renders those Asiatics fully as irregular
as if it was a real tail.
If we were, in like manner, to go through the na¬
tions of Asia and Africa, we should hardly find any ex¬
tensive country where the colour of men is not darker,
where there are not stronger irregularities observed,
and grosser defects to be found in them, than M. de
Paw finds fault with in the Americans. The colour of
the latter is a good deal clearer than that of almost all
the Africans and the inhabitants of southern Asia.
Even their alleged scantiness of beard is common to the
inhabitants of the Philippine islands, and of all the In¬
dian archipelago, to the famous Chinese, Japanese,
Tartars, and many other nations of the old continent.
The imperfections of the Americans, however great
they may be represented to be, are certainly not com¬
parable with the defects of that immense people, whose
character we have sketched, and others whom w«
omit.
M. de Paw represents the Americans to be a feeble Their eo*.
and diseased set of nations j and in order to demon-*titutio*
strate the weakness and disorder of their physical con-and cofcP*~
stitution, adduces several proofs equally ridiculous andral .
ill-founded, and which it will not be expected we should
enumerate. He alleges, among other particulars, that
they were overcome in wrestling by all the Europeans,
and that they sunk under a moderate burden ; that by
a computation made, 200,000 Americans were found
to have perished in one year from carrying of baggage.
With respect to the first point, the abbe Clavigero
observes, it would be necessary that the experiment of
wrestling was made between many individuals of each
continent, and that the victory should be attested by the
Americans as well as the Europeans. It is not, how¬
ever, meant to insist, that the Americans are stronger
than the Europeans. They may be less strong, with¬
out the human species having degenerated, in them.
The Swiss are stronger than the Italians; and still we
do not believe the Italians are degenerated, nor do we
tax the climate of Italy. The instance of 200,000
Americans having died in one year under the weight of
baggage, were it true, would not convince us so much of
the weakness of the Americans, as of the inhumanity of
the Europeans. In the same manner that those 200,000
Americans perished, 200,000 Prussians would also have
perished, had they been obliged to make a journey of
between 300 and 400 miles, with 100 pounds of bur¬
den upon their backs j if they had collars of iron
about their necks, and were obliged to carry that load
over rocks and mountains j if those who became ex¬
hausted with fatigue, or wounded their feet so as to
impede their progress, had their heads cut off that they
might not retard the pace of the rest; and if they were
not allowed but a small morsel of bread to enable them
to support so severe a toil. Las Casas, from whom M.
de Paw got the account of the 200,000 Americans
who died under the fatigue of carrying baggage, re¬
lates also all the above-mentioned circumstances. If
that
A M E
America, that author therefore is to be credited in the last, he is
V' ■ i .> also to be credited in the first. But a philosopher who
vaunts the physical and moral qualities of Europeans
over those of the Americans, would have done better,
we think, to have suppressed facts so opprobrious to the
52 Europeans themselves.
Their la- Nothing in fact demonstrates so clearly the robustness
hour and j.|ie Americans, as those various and lasting fatigues in
industry. w[jici, tJiey are continually engaged. M. de Paw says,
that when the new world was discovered, nothing was
to be seen but thick woods $ that at present there are
some lands cultivated, not by the Americans, how¬
ever, but by the Africans and Europeans $ and that
the soil in cultivation is to the soil which is uncultivated
as 2000 to 2,000,000. These three assertions the abbe
demonstrates to be precisely as many errors. Since
the conquest, the Americans alone have been the
people who have supported all the fatigues of agricul¬
ture in all the vast countries of the continent of South
America, and in the greater part of those of North
America subject to the crown of Spain. No Euro¬
pean is ever to be seen employed in the labours of the
field. The Moors who, in comparison of the Ameri¬
cans, are very few in number in the kingdom of New
Spain^ are charged with the culture of the sugar cane
and tobacco, and the making of sugar ; but the soil de¬
stined for the cultivation of those plants is not, with re¬
spect to all the cultivated land of that country, in the
proportion of one to two thousand. The Americans
are the people who labour on the soil. They are the
tillers, the sowers, the weeders, and the reapers of the
wheat, of the maize, of the rice, of the beans, and
other kinds of grain and pulse $ of the cacao, of the va¬
nilla, of the cotton, ot the indigo, and all other plants
useful to the sustenance, the clothing, and commerce of
those provinces; and without them so little can be
done, that in the year 1762, the harvest of wheat
was abandoned in many places on account of a sick¬
ness which prevailed, and prevented the Indians from
reaping it. But this is not all ; the Americans are
they who cut and transport all the necessary timber
from the woods; who cut, transport, and work the
stones ; who make lime, plaster, and tiles j who con¬
struct all the buildings of that kingdom, except a few
places where none of them inhabit: who open and re¬
pair all the roads ; who make the canals and sluices,
and clean the cities. They work in many mines of
gold, of silver, of copper, &c. ; they are the shepherds,
herdsmen, weavers, potters, basket-makers, bakers, cur¬
riers, day-labourers, &c. $ in a word, they are the per¬
sons who bear all the burden of public labours. These,
says our justly indignant author, are the employments
of the weak, dastardly, and useless Americans ; while
the vigorous M. de Paw, and other indefatigable Eu¬
ropeans, are occupied in writing invectives against
them.
Tii s 'a 'Ihese labours, in which the Indians, are continually
sufficient emP‘^ye‘l> certainly attest their healthiness and strength)
proof of ^or ^ they are able to undergo such fatigues, they can-
their heal- he diseased, nor have an exhausted stream of blood
thiness and in their veins, as M. de Paw insinuates. In order to
rengtli. make it be believed that their constitutions are vitiated,
he copies whatever he finds written by historians of
America, whether true or false, respecting the diseases
Vol. II. Part I. 1 b +
RICA. 1j7
which reign in some particular countries of that great America.
continent. It is not to be denied, that in some conn- -v ^
tries in the wide compass of America, men are exposed
more than elsewhere to the distempers which are oc¬
casioned by the intemperature of the air, or the perni¬
cious quality of the aliments ) but it is certain, accord¬
ing to the assertion of many respectable authors ac¬
quainted with the new world, that the American coun¬
tries are for the most part healthy j and if the Ameri¬
cans were disposed to retaliate on M. de Paw, and
other European authors who write as he does, they
would have abundant subject of materials to throw dis¬
credit on the clime of the old continent, and the consti¬
tution of its inhabitants, in the endemicdistempers which
prevail there.
Lastly, The supposed feebleness and unsound bodily
habit of the Americans do not correspond with the
length of their lives. Among those Americans whose
great fatigues and excessive toils do not anticipate their
death, there are not a few who reach the age of 80,
90, and 100 or more years, as formerly mentioned j
and what is more, without there being observed in them
that decay which time commonly produces in the hair,
in the teeth, in the skin, and in the muscles of the hu¬
man body. This phenomenon, so much admired by the
Spaniards who reside in Mexico, cannot be ascribed to
any other cause than the vigour of their constitutions,
the temperance of their diet, and the salubrity of their
clime. Historians, and other persons who have sojourn¬
ed there for many years, report the same thing of other
countries of the new world. ^
As to the mental qualities of the Americans, M. de Their imck-
Paw has not been able to discover any other characters tal quali-
than a memory so feeble, that to-day they do not re-t‘es*
member what they did yesterday ; a capacity so blunt,
that they are incapable of thinking, or putting their
ideas in order) a disposition so cold, that they feel no
excitement of love 5 a dastardly spirit, and a genius that
is torpid and indolent. Many other Europeans, in¬
deed, and what is still more wonderful, many of those
children or descendants of Europeans who are born in
America, think as M. de Paw does j some from igno¬
rance, some from want of reflection, and others from
hereditary prejudice and prepossession. But all this
and more would-not be sufficient to invalidate the testi¬
monies of other Europeans, whose authority has a
great deal more weight, both because they were men
of great judgment, learning, and knowledge of these
countries, and because they gave their testimony in fa¬
vour of strangers against their own countrymen. In
particular, Acosta, whose natural and moral history
even M. de Paw commends as an excellent work, em¬
ploys the whole sixth book in demonstrating the good
sense of the Americans, by an explanation of their an¬
cient government, their laws, their histories in paint¬
ings and knots, kalendars, &c. M. de Paw thinks
the Americans are bestial ) Acosta, on the other hand,
reputes those persons weak and presumptuous who think
them so. M. de Paw says, that the most acute Ameri¬
cans were inferior in industry and sagacity to the rudest
nations of the old continent; Acosta extols the civil
government of the Mexicans above many republics of
Europe. M. de Paw finds, in the moral and political
conduct of the Americans, nothing but barbarity, ex-
C travagance.
J8 a m e
America, travagance, and brutality; and Acosta finds there, laws
 1 that are admirable, and worthy of being preserved for
ever.
M.de Paw’s M.
proofs of
Americau
cowardice.
de Paw denies them courage, and alleges the
conquest of Mexico as a proof ot their cowardice.
“ Cortes (he says) conquered the empire of Mexico
with 450 vagabonds and 15 horses, badly armed ; his
miserable artillery consisted ofsix falconets, which would
not at the present day be capable of exciting the fears
of a fortress defended by invalids. During his absence
the capital was held in awe by the half of his troops.
What men ! what events !—It is confirmed by the de¬
positions of all historians, that the Spaniards entered the
first time into Mexico without making one single dis¬
charge of their artillery. If the title of hero is appli¬
cable to him who has the disgrace to occasion the death
of a great number of rational animals, Ferdinand Cor¬
tes might pretend to it} otherwise, I do not see what
true glory he has acquired by the overthrow of a tot¬
tering monarchy, which might have been destroyed in
the same manner by any other assassin of our continent.”
Refuted. These passages indicate either M. de Paw’s ignorance
of the history of the conquest of Mexico, or a wilful
suppression of what would openly contradict his system j
since all who have read that history know well, that the
conquest of Mexico was not made with 450 men, but
with more than 200,000. Cortes himself, to whom it
\vas of more importance than to M. de Paw to make
his bravery conspicuous, and his conquest appear glo¬
rious, confesses the excessive number of the allies who
were under his command at the siege of the capital,
and combated with more fury against the Mexicans
than the Spaniards themselves. According to the ac¬
count which Cortes gave to the emperor Charles V.
the siege of Mexico began with 87 horses, 848 Spanish
infantry, armed with guns, cross-bows, swords, and lan¬
ces, and upwards of 75,000 allies, of Tlascala, Hue-
xotzinco, Cholula, and Chaleo, equipped with various
sorts of arms ; with three large pieces of iron cannon,
15 small of copper, and 13 brigantines. In the course
of the siege were assembled the numerous nations of
the Otomies, the Cohuixcas, and Matlazincas, and the
troops of the populous cities of the lakes j so that the
army of the besiegers not only exceeded 200,000, but
amounted to 4,000,000, according to the letter from
Cortes j and besides these, 3000 boats and canoes came
to their assistance. Did it betray cowardice to have sus¬
tained, for full 75 days, the siege of an open city, en¬
gaging daily with an army so large, and in part pro¬
vided with arms so superior, and at the same time hav¬
ing to withstand the ravages of famine ? Can they me¬
rit the charge of cowardice, who, after having lost
seven of the eight parts of their city, and about 50,000
RICA.
citizens, part cut off by the sword, part by famine and America,
sickness, continued to defend themselves until they were - *
furiously assaulted in the last hold which was left them?
See the article Mexico. 57
According to M. de Paw, “ The Americans at first Remark-
were not believed to be men, but rather satyrs, or large
apes, which might be murdered without remorse or re- cajurany
proach. At last, in order to add insult to the oppres-m, tfe JPavv.
sion of those times, a pope made an original bull, in
which he declared, that being desirous of founding bi¬
shoprics in the richest countries of America, it pleased
him and the Holy Spirit to acknowledge the Americans
to he true men : in so far, that without this decision of
an Italian, the inhabitants of the new world would have
appeared, even at this day, to the eyes ot the faithful, a
race of equivocal men. There is no example of such a
decision since this globe has been inhabited by men and
apes.” Upon this passage the abbe animadverts, as be¬
ing a singular instance of calumny and misrepresenta¬
tion 5 and gives the following history of the decision al¬
luded to. 5S
“ Some of the first Europeans who established them- Occasion of
selves in America, not less powerful than avaricious, the famoas
desirous of enriching themselves to the detriment of the
Americans, kept them continually employed, and made
use of them as slaves ; and in order to avoid the re¬
proaches which were made them by the bishops and
missionaries who inculcated humanity, and the giving
liberty to those people to get themselves instructed in
religion, that they might do their duties towards the
church and their families, alleged, that the Indians
were by nature slaves, and incapable of being instruct¬
ed ; and many other falsehoods of which the chronicler
Herrera makes mention against them. Those zealous
ecclesiastics being unable, either by their authority or
preaching, to free those unhappy converts from the ty¬
ranny of such misers, had recourse to their Catholic ma¬
jesties, and at last obtained fromtheir justice and clemen¬
cy those laws, as favourable to the Americans as honour¬
able to the court of Spain, that compose the Indian
code, which were chiefly due to the indefatigable zeal
of the bishop de las Casas. On another side, Garces
bishop of Tlascala, knowing that those Spaniards bore,
notwithstanding their perversity, a great respect to the
decisions of the vicar of Jesus Christ, made application
in the year 1586 to Pope Paul III. by that famous let¬
ter of which we have made mention j representing to
him the evils which the Indians suffered from the wic¬
ked Christians, and praying him to interpose his autho¬
rity in their behalf. The pope, moved by such heavy
remonstrances, despatched the next year the original
bull, a faithful copy of which we have here subjoin¬
ed (a), which was not made, as is manifest, to declare
the
(a) Paulus papa III. universis Christ! Fidelibus presentes Literas inspeeturis Salutem et Apostolicam Bene-
dictionem—“ Veritas ipsa, quae nec lalli nec fallere potest, cum Praedicatores Eidei ad officium praedicationis
destinaret, dixisse dignoscitur: Eantes doceteomnes gentes : omnes, dixit, absque omni delectu, cum omnes Fidei
disciplina capaces existant. Quod videos et invidens ipsius human! generis aemulus, qui bonis operibus, ut pe-
reant, semper adversatur, modum excogitavit hactenus inauditum, quo impediret, ne Verbum Dei Gentibus, ut
salvae fierent, prjedicaretur : ut quosdam suos satellites commovit, qui suam cupiditatem adimplere cupientes,
Occidentales et Meridionales Indos, et alias Gentes, quae temporibus istis ad nostram notitiam pervenerunt, sub
praetextu quod Fidei Catbolicae expertes existant, uti bruta animalia, ad nostra obsequia redigendos esse, passim
asserere praesumant, et eos in servitutem redigunt, tantis afflictionibus illos urgentes, quantis vix bruta animalia
* 2. illis
k sttmca
59
Hcprescii.-
tation of
Columbus-
A M E
tlie Americans true men ; for such a piece of weak¬
ness was very distant from that or any other pope : but
solely to support the natural rights of the Americans
against the attempts of their oppressors, and to con¬
demn the injustice and inhumanity of those, who, un¬
der the pretence of supposing these people idolatrous,
or incapable of being instructed, took from them their
property and their liberty, and treated them as slaves
and beasts.”
If at first the Americans were deemed satyrs, nobody
can better prove it than Christopher Columbus, their
discoverer. Let us hear, therefore, how that celebrated
admiral speaks, in his account to the Catholic sovereigns
Ferdinand and Isabella, of the first satyrs he saw in the
island of Hayti or Hispaniola. “ I swear (he says), to
your majesties, that there is not a better people in the
world than these, more affectionate, affable, or mild.
They love their neighbours as themselves 5 their lan¬
guage is the sweetest, the softest, and the most cheer¬
ful ; for they always speak smiling j and although they
go naked, let your majesties believe me, their customs
are very becoming ; and their king, who is served with
great majesty, has such engaging manners, that it gives
great pleasure to see him, and also to consider the reten¬
tive faculty of that people, and their desire of know¬
ledge, which incites them to ask the causes and the ef¬
fects of things.”
“ We have had intimate commerce with the Ameri-
concerning cang (contJnues the abbe) ; have lived for some years
ties of the 111 a seminary destined for their instruction j saw the
Americans, erection and progress of the royal college of Guada-
loupe, founded in Mexico by a Mexican Jesuit, for the
education of Indian children ; had afterwards some In¬
dians among our pupils 5 had particular knowledge of
many American rectors, many nobles, and numerous
artists ; attentively observed their character, their ge¬
nius, their disposition, and manner of thinking; and ha¬
ving examined besides, with the utmost diligence, their
ancient history, their religion, their government, their
law's, and their customs : After such long experience
and study of them, from which we imagine ourselves en¬
abled to decide without danger of erring, we declare to
M. de Paw, and to all Europe, that the mental quali¬
ties of the Americans are not in the least inferior to
those of the Europeans; that they are capable of all,
even the most abstract sciences ; and that, if equal care
was taken of their education, if they were brought up
from childhood in seminaries under good masters, were
protected and stimulated by rewards, we should see rise
among the Americans, philosophers, mathematicians,
and divines, w'ho would rival the first in Europe.”
60
Conclusions
It I (X A. i9
But although we should suppose, that, in the torrid' America.
climates of the new world, as well as in those of the old, ~~v '
especially under the additional depression of slavery,, .6l.
there was an inferiority of the mental powers, the Chi- ^e"
lese and the North Americans have discovered higher asserted.1'
rudiments of human excellence and ingenuity than have
ever been known among tribes in a similar state of so¬
ciety in any part of the world.
M. de Paw affirms, that the Americans were unac¬
quainted with the use of money, and quotes the follow¬
ing well-known passage from Montesquieu: “ Imagine
to yourself, that, by some accident, you are placed in
an unknown country ; if you find money there, do not
doubt that you are arrived among a polished people.”
But if by money we are to understand a piece of metal
with the stamp of the prince or the public, the want of
it in a nation is no token of barbarity. The Athe¬
nians employed oxen for money, as the Romans did
sheep. The Romans had no coined money till the time
of Servius Tullius, nor the Persians until the reign of
Darius Hystaspes. But if by money is understood a
sign, representing the value of merchandise, the Mexi¬
cans, and other nations of Anahuac, employed money
in their commerce. The cacao, of which they made
constant use in the market to purchase whatever they
wanted, was employed for this purpose, as salt is in A-
byssinia.
It has been affirmed that stone bridges were unknown
in America when it was first discovered; and that the
natives did not know how to form arches. But these
assertions are erroneous. The remains of the ancient
palaces of Tezcuco, and still more their vapour baths,
show the ancient use of arches and vaults among the
Mexicans. But the ignorance of this art would have
been no proof of barbarity. Neither the Egyptians nor
Babylonians understood the construction of arches.
M. de Paw affirms, that the palace of Montezuma
was nothing else than a hut. But it is certain, from
the affirmation of all the historians of Mexico, that the
army under Cortes, consisting of 6400 men, was all
lodged in the palace ; and there remained still sufficient
room for Montezuma and his attendants.
The advances which the Mexicans had made in the Tokens of
study of astronomy is perhaps the most surprising proof science,
of their attention and sagacity ; for it appears from
Abbe Clavigero’s history, that they not only counted
365 days to the year, but also knew of the excess
of about six hours in the solar over the civil year,
and remedied the difference by means of intercalary
days.
Of American morality, the following exhortation of
C 2 a
ibis servientia urgeant. Nos igitur, qui ejusdem Domini nostri vices, licet indigni, gerimus in terris, et Oves gre-
gis sm nobis commissas, quae extra ejus Ovile sunt, ad ipsum Oviletoto nixu exquirimus, attendentes Indos ipsos
utpote veros homines, non solum Christianae Fidei capaces existere, sed, ut nobis innotuit, ad Fidem ipsam promp-
issime currere, ac volentes super hiscongruis remediis providere, praedictos Indos et omnes alias gentes ad notitiam
nnstianorum in posterum deventuras, licet extra fidem Christi existant, sua libertate etdominio hujusmodi uti et
po 111, e gaudere libere, et licite posse, nec in servitutem redigi debere, ac quicquid secus fieri contigerit irritum
et inane, ipsosque Indos, et alias Gentes Verbi Dei praedicatione, et exemplo bonae vitae, ad dictam Fidem Christi
itnvitandos tore. Auctontate Apostolica per praesentes literas decernimus, et declaramus, non obstantibus premis-
o!,«tTre Ttra-,“8 1“lbrC0,Te-” Datum Rom£E anno 1S37‘ IV. Non. Inn. Pontificate nostri anno III.
s a <, non altra e quella famosa bolla, per la quale s’ e fatto un si grande schiamazzo.
20 A M E
America. a Mexican to Ills son may serve as a specimen. ‘ My
 son, who art come into the light from the womb of thy
mother like a chicken from the egg, and like it ait
Specimen preparing to fly through the world, we know not how
nioniHtv *ong Heaven will grant to us the enjoyment of that
precious gem which we possess in thee 5 but however
short the period, endeavour to live exactly, praying
God continually to assist thee. He created thee: thou
art his property. He is thy father, and loves thee still
more than I do: repose in him thy thoughts, and day
and night direct thy sighs to him. Reverence and sa¬
lute thy elders, and hold no one in contempt. To the
poor and distressed be not dumb, but rather use words
of comfort. Honour all persons, particularly thy pa¬
rents, to whom thou owest obedience, respect, and ser¬
vice. Guard against imitating the example of those
wicked sons, who, like brutes that aie deprived of rea¬
son, neither reverence their parents, listen to their in¬
struction, nor submit to their correction: because who¬
ever follows their steps will have an unhappy end, will
die in a desperate or sudden manner, or will be killed
and devoured by wild beasts.
“ Mock not, my son, the aged or the imperfect.
Scorn not him whom you see fall into some folly or
transgression, nor make him reproaches j but restrain
thyself, and beware lest thou fall into the same error
which offends thee in another. Go not where thou
are not called, nor interfere in that which does not
concern thee. Endeavour to manifest thy good breed¬
ing in all thy words and actions. In conversation, do
not lay thy hands upon another, nor speak too much,
nor interrupt or disturb another’s discourse. When
anyone discourses with thee, hear him attentively, and
hofd thyself in an easy attitude, neither playing with
thy feet, nor putting thy mantle to thy mouth, nor
spitting too often, nor looking about you here and
there, nor rising up frequently, if thou art sitting j for
such actions are indications of levity and low breed¬
ing.”—He proceeds to mention several particular vices
which are to be avoided, and concludes,—“ Steal not,
nor give thyself to gaming : otherwise thou wilt be a
disgrace to thy parents, whom thou oughtest rather to
honour for the education they have given thee. If
thou wilt be virtuous, thy example will put the wicked
to shame. No more, my son j enough has been said
in discharge of the duties of a father. With these
counsels I wish to fortify thy mind. Refuse them not,
nor act in contradiction to them j for on them thy life
and all thy happiness depend.”
NoUolis of As ranging on the same side with the abbe Clavi-
M. deBuf-gero, the ingenious Mr Jefferson deserves particular
ton con- attention. This gentleman, in his Notes on the State
cermng the oj* Virginia, &c. has taken occasion to combat the
af aninrd 3 opmi°ns of Buffon j and seems to have fully refuted
nature m them both by argument and facts. The French philo-
America, sopher asserts, “ That living nature is less active, less
energetic, in the new world, than in the old.” He
affirms, 1. That the animals common to both conti¬
nents are smaller in America. 2- That those peculiar
to the new are on an inferior scale. 3. That those
which have been domesticated in both have degenera¬
ted in America. And, 4. That it exhibits fewer spe-
RICA.
cies of living creatures. The cause of this he ascribes America,
to the diminution of heat in America, and to the pre-v—y—u
valence of humidity from the extension of its lakes and
waters over a prodigious surface. In other words, he
affirms, that /ieat is friendly and moisture adverse to
the production and developement of the larger quadru-
peds. _
The hypothesis, that moisture is unfriendly to animal The hypa~
growth, Mr Jefferson shows to be contradicted by ob-thesis, that
servation and experience. It is by the assistance
heat and moisture that vegetables are elaborated from to anjmaj
the elements. Accordingly we find, that the more hu-growth
mid climates produce plants in greater profusion than considered,
the dry. Vegetables are immediately or remotely the
food of every animal j and, from the uniform opera¬
tion of Nature’s laws we discern, that, in proportion
to the quantity of food, animals are not only multi¬
plied in their numbers, but improved in their size. Of
this last opinion is the count de Bufton himself, in
another part of his work : “ En general, il paroit que
les pays un pen jroids conviennent mieux h nos boeufs
que les pays chauds, et qu’ils sent d’autant plus gros
et plus grands que le climat est plus humide et plus
abondans en paturages. Les bceufs de Danemarc,
de la Podolie, de 1’Ukraine, et de la Tartaric qu’ha-
bitent les Calmouques, sont les plus grands de tous.” ^
Here, then, a race of animals, and one of the largest The cok-
too, has been increased in its dimensions by cold and trary main-
moisture, in direct opposition to the hypothesis, which
supposes that these two circumstances diminish animal gon
bulk, and that it is their contraries, heat and dryness,
which enlarge it. But to try the question on more
general ground, let us take two portions of the earth,
Europe and America for instance, sufficiently extensive
to give operation to general causes ; let us consider the
circumstances peculiar to each, and observe their effect
on animal nature. America, running through the tor¬
rid as well as temperate zone, has more heat collective¬
ly taken, than Europe. But Europe, according to our
hypothesis, is the driest. They are equally adapted
then to animal production } each being endowed with
one of those causes which befriend animal growth, and
with one which opposes it. Let us, then, take a com¬
parative view of the quadrupeds of Europe and Ame¬
rica, presenting them to the eye in three different ta¬
bles } in one of which shall be enumerated those found
in both countries ; in a second, those found in one on¬
ly j in a third, those which have been domesticated in
both. To facilitate the comparison, let those of each
table be arranged in gradation, according to their sizes,
from the greatest to the smallest, so far as their sizes
can be conjectured. The weights of the large animals
shall be expressed in the English avoirdupois pound
and its decimals j those of the smaller in the ounce and
its decimal. Those which are marked thus *, are ac¬
tual weights of particular subjects, deemed among the
largest of their species. Those marked thus t, are fur¬
nished by judicious persons, well acquainted with the
species, and saying, from conjecture only, what the
largest individual they had seen would probably have
weighed. The other weights are taken from Messrs
Buffon and D’Aubenton, and are of such subjects as
came casually to their hands for dissection.
Comparative
AMERICA.
Anerica.
Comparative View of the Quadrupeds of Europe and
of America.
Table I. Aboriginals of both.
Mammoth
Buffalo. Bison
White bear. Ours blanc
Caribou. Renne
Bear. Ours
Elk. Elan. Orignal, palmated
Red deer. Cerf
Fallow deer. Daim
Wolf. Loup
Roe. Chevreuil
Glutton. Glouton. Carcajou
W7ild cat. Chat sauvage
Lynx. Loup cervier
Beaver*. Castor
Badger. Blaireau
Red fox. Renard
Grey fox. Isatis
Otter. Loutre
Monax. Marmotte
Vison. Fouine
Hedgehog. Herisson
Martin. Marte
Water rat. Rat d’eau
Weasel. Belette
Flying squirrel. Polatouche
Shrew mouse. Musaraigne.
Europe. America.
lb.
153-7
288.8
167.8
69 8
56-7
25-
18.5
13.6
13-5
8.9
6.5
2.8
2.2
1.9
oz.
7-5
2.2
2.2
1.
lb.
*1800
*410
*273
i-3 o
*45
t!2
t6
oz.
+4
Table II. Aboriginals of one only.
Europe.
lb.
Sanglier. W^ild boar 280.
Mouflon. Wild sheep 56.
Bouquetin. Wild goat
Lievre. Hare 7
Lapin. Rabbit 3.4
Putois. Polecat 3.3
Genette 3.1
Desman. Musk rat oz.
Ecureuil. Squirrel 12.
Hermine. Ermine 8.2
Rat. Rat 7.5
Loirs 3,1
Lex-ot. Dormouse 1.8
Toupe. Mole
Hamster
Zisel
Leming
Souris. Mouse
1.2
America.
Tapir
Elk,round-horned f
Puma
6 Jaguar
Cabiai
Tamanoir
Tamandua
Cougar of N. Amer.
Cougar of S. Amer.
Ocelot
Pecari
Jaguaret
Alco
Lama
9 Paco
Paca
Serval
Sloth. Unau
Saricovienne
Kincajou
Tatou Kabassou
Urson. Urchin
lb.
534-
450'
218.
109.
109.
65.4
75
59-4
46-3
43.6
32.7
27t
21.8
Table II. continued.
Europe. America.
lb.
16.5
Raccoon. Raton.
Coati
Coendou 16.3
Sloth. Ai. 13.
Sapajou Ouarini
Sapajou Coaita 9.8
Tatou Encubert
Tatou Apar
Tatou Cachica 7.
Little Coendou 6.5
Opossum. Sarigue
Tapeti
Margay
Crabier
Agouti 4.2
Sapajou Sai 3.5
Tatou Cirquin^on
Tatou Tatouate 3.3
Mouffette Squash
Mouffette Chiche
Mouffette Conepate.
Scunk
Mouffette. Zorilla
Whabus. Hare. Rabbit
Aperea
Akouchi
Ondatra. Musk rat
Pilori
Great gray squirrel fa.y
Fox squirrel of Vir¬
ginia 42.625
Surikate 2.
Mink f2.
Sapajou. Sajou 1.8
Indian pig. Cochon
d’Inde 1.6
Sapajou. Saimiri 1.5
Phalanger
Coquallin
Lesser gray squirrel l.jf
Black squirrel I.jf
Red squirrel IO. oz.
Sagoin Saki
Sagoin Pinche
Sagoin Tamarin oz.
Sagoin Ouistiti 4.4
Sagoin Marikine
Sagoin Mico
Cayopollin
Fourmillier
Marmose
Sarigue of Cayenne
Tucan
Red mole oz.
Ground squirrel 4
Table
2'2
America.
A M E
America.
*7
Result of
the first
table.
Table III. Domesticated in both.
Cow
Horse
Ass
Hog
Sheep
Goat
Dog
Cat
Europe.
lb.
763
67.6
?•
America.
lb.
*2500
*1366
*1200
*125
*80
68
Explana¬
tion and
result of
the second
table.
69
Of the third
table.
The result of this view is, that of 26 quadrupeds com¬
mon to both countries, seven are said to be larger in A-
merica, seven of equal size, and 12 not sufficiently exa¬
mined. So that the first table impeaches the first mem¬
ber of the assertion, that of the animals common to both
countries the American are smallest, “ Et cela sans au-
cune exception.” It shows it not just in all the latitude
in which its author has advanced it, and probably not
to such a degree as to found a distinction between the
two countries.
Proceeding to the second table, which arranges the
animals found in one of the two countries only, M. de
Buffon observes, that the tapir, the elephant of Ameri¬
ca, is but of the size of a small cow. To preserve our
comparison, Mr Jefferson states the wild boar, the ele¬
phant of Europe, as little more than halt that size. He
has made an elk with round or cylindrical horns an ani¬
mal of America, and peculiar to it; because he has seen
many of them himself, and more of their horns ; and
because, from the best information, it is certain that in
Virginia this kind of elk has abounded much, and still
exists in smaller numbers. He makes the American
hare or rabbit peculiar, believing it to be different from
both the European animals of these denominations, and
calling it therefore by its Algonquin name tvhabus, to
keep it distinct from these. Kalm is of the same opinion.
The squirrels are denominated from a knowledge deri¬
ved from daily sight of them, because with that the Eu¬
ropean appellations and descriptions seem irreconcilable.
These are the only instances in which Mr Jefferson de¬
parts from the authority of M. de Buffon in the con¬
struction of this table ; whom he takes for his ground¬
work, because he thinks him the best informed of any
naturalist who has ever written. The result is, that
there are 18 quadrupeds peculiar to Europe; more than
four times as many, to wit, 74 peculiar to America ;
that the first of these 74, the tapir, the largest of the
animals peculiar to America, weighs more than the
whole column of Europeans ; and consequently this se¬
cond table disproves the second member of the assertion,
that the animals peculiar to the new world are on a
smaller scale, so far as that assertion relied on European
animals for support: and it is in full opposition to the
theory which makes the animal volume to depend on
the circumstances of heat and moisture.
The third table comprehends those quadrupeds only
which are domestic in both countries. That some of
these, in some parts of America, have become less than
their original stock, is doubtless true; and the reason is
very obvious. In a thinly peopled country, the spon-
RICA.
taneous productions of the forests and waste fields are
sufficient to support indifferently the domestic animals of u
the farmer, with a very little aid from him in the se¬
verest and scarcest season. He therefore finds it more
convenient to receive them from the hand of Nature in
that indifferent state, than to keep up their size by a
care and nourishment which wmuld cost him much la¬
bour. If, on this low fare, these animals dwindle, it is
no more than they do in those parts of Europe where
the poverty of the soil, or poverty of the owner, redu¬
ces them to the same subsistence. It is the uniform ef¬
fect of one and the same cause, whether acting on this
or that side of the globe. It would be erring, there¬
fore, against that rule of philosophy, which teaches us
to ascribe like effects to like causes, should we impute
this diminution of size in America to any imbecility or
want of uniformity in the operations of nature. It may
be affirmed with truth, that in those countries, and with
those individuals of America, where necessity or curio¬
sity has produced equal attention as in Europe to the
nourishment of animals, the horses, cattle, sheep, and
hogs of the one continent, are as large as those of
the other. There are particular instances, well at¬
tested, where individuals of America have imported
good breeders from England, and have improved their
size by care in the course of some years. And the
weights actually known and stated in the third table,
will suffice to show, that we may conclude, on probable
grounds, that, with equal food and care, the climate of
America will preserve the races of domestic animals as
large as the European stock from which they are de¬
rived ; and consequently that the third member of M.
de Buffon’s assertion, that the domestic animals are
subject to degeneration fro1 1 the climate of America,
is as probably wrong as the first and second were cer¬
tainly so.
That the last part of it is erroneous, which affirms,
that the species of American quadrupeds are compara¬
tively few, is evident from the tables taken altogether;
to which may be added the proof adduced by the abb£
Clavigero. According to Buffon’s latest calculation, in
his Epoqnes de la Nature, there are 300 species of qua¬
drupeds ; and America, though it does not make more
than a third part of the globe, contains, according to
Clavigero, almost one half of the different species of its
animals.
Of the human inhabitants of America, to whom the The humas
same hypothesis of degeneracy is extended, M. Buffon‘"habitants
gives the following description : “ Though the Ame-
rican savage be nearly of the same stature with men int(je game
polished societies ; yet this is not a sufficient exception hypothesis
to the general contraction of animated nature through-of degenc-
out the whole continent. In the savage, the organs ofracy’
generation are small and feeble. He has no hair, no
beard, no ardour for the female. Though nimbler than
the European, because more accustomed to running,
his strength is not so great. His sensations are less
acute ; and yet he is more timid and cowardly. He
has no vivacity, no activity of mind. The activity of
his body is not so much an exercise or spontaneous mo¬
tion, as a necessary action produced by want. Destroy
his appetite for victuals and drink, and you will at once
annihilate the active principle of all his movements:
He remains in stupid repose, on his limbs or couch, for
whole days. It is easy to discover the cause of the
scattered
70
America.
71
Observa¬
tions by Mr
Jefferson.
1}
Seeming
coldness of
the Ameri¬
cans to the
sex ac¬
counted
lor.
A M E
scattered life of savages, and of their estrangement
from society. They have been refused the most pre¬
cious sparks of Nature’s fire : They have no ardour for
women, and, of course, no love to mankind. Unac¬
quainted with the most lively and most tender of all
attachments, their other sensations of this nature are
cold and languid. Their love to parents and children
is extremely weak. The bonds of the most intimate
of all societies, that of the same family, are feeble \
and one family has no attachment to another. Hence
no union, no republic, no social state, can take place
among them. The physical cause of love gives rise to
the morality of their manners. Their heart is frozen,
their society cold, and their empire cruel. They regard
their females as servants destined to labour, or as beasts
of burden, whom they load unmercifully with the pro¬
duce of their hunting, and oblige, without pity or gra¬
titude, to perform labours which often exceed their
strength. They have few children, and pay little at¬
tention to them. Every thing must be referred to the
first cause : They are indifferent, because they are weak j
and this indifference to the sex is the original stain
which disgraces Nature, prevents her from expanding,
and, by destroying the germs of life, cuts the root of
society. Hence man makes no exception to what has
been advanced. Nature, by denying him the faculty
of love, has abased and contracted him more than any
other animal.”
A humiliating picture indeed ! but than which, Mr
Jefferson assures us, never one Avas more unlike the
original. M. Buffon grants, that their stature is the
same as that of the men of Europe ; and be might have
admitted, that the Iroquois were larger, and the Lenopr
or Delawares taller, than people in Europe generally
are : But he says their organs of generation are smaller
and weaker than those of Europeans j which is not a
fact. And as to their xvant of beard, this error has
been already noticed (N° 49. supra.')
“ They have no ardour for their females.” It is
true, they do not indulge those excesses, nor discover
that fondness, which are customary in Europe ; but
this is not owing to a defect in nature, but to manners.
Their soul is wholly bent upon Avar. This is Avhat
procures them glory among the men, and makes them
the admiration of the Avomen. To this they are edu¬
cated from their earliest youth. When they pursue
game Avith ardour, Avhen they bear the fatigues of the
chase, when they sustain and suffer patiently hunger
and cold, it is not so much for the sake of the game they
pursue, as to convince their parents and the council of
the nation, that they are fit to be enrolled in the num¬
ber of the Avarriors. The songs of the women, the
dance of the warriors, the sage counsel of the chiefs,
the tales of the old, the triumphant entry of the warriors
returning Avith success from battle, and the respect paid
to those Avho distinguish themselves in battle, and in
subduing their enemies ; in short, every thing they see
or hear tends to inspire them with an ardent desire for
military fame. If a young man were to discover a
fondness for women before he has been to war, he
Avould become the contempt of the men, and the scorn
and ridicule of the women : or were he to indulge
himself Avith a captive taken in war, and much more
were he to offer violence in order to gratify his lust,
RICA.
23
he would incur indelible disgrace. The seeming fri- America,
gidity of the men, therefore, is the effect of manners, _
and not a defect of nature. They are neither more
defective in ardour, nor more impotent Avxth the fe¬
male, than are the Avhites reduced to the same diet and
exercise.
“ They raise few children.”—They indeed raise few- why the?
er children than we do ; the causes of which are to behave few
found, not in a difference of nature, but of circum-children,
stance. The Avomen very frequently attending the men
in their parties of war and of hunting, childbearing
becomes extremely inconvenient to them. It is said,
therefore, that they have learned the practice of pro¬
curing abortion by the use of some vegetable j and that
it even extends to prevent conception for a consider¬
able time after. During these parties they are expos¬
ed to numerous hazards, to excessive exertions, to the
greatest extremities of hunger. Even at their homes,
the nation depends for food, through a certain part of
every year, on the gleanings of the forest; that is, they
experience a famine once in every year. With all ani¬
mals, if the female he badly fed, or not fed at all, her
young perish ; and if both male and female be reduced
to like Avant, generation becomes less active, less pro¬
ductive. To the obstacles, then, of Avant and hazard,
which Nature has opposed to the multiplication of Avild
animals, for the purpose of restraining their numbers
Avithin certain bounds, those of labour and of voluntary
abortion are added with the Indian. No wonder, then,
if they multiply less than avc do. Where food is regu¬
larly supplied, a single farm Avill show more of cattle
than a Avhole country of forests can of buffaloes. The
same Indian Avomen, when married to Avhite traders,
Avho feed them and their children plentifully and regu¬
larly, who exempt them from excessive drugery, Avho
keep them stationary and unexposed to accident, pro¬
duce and raise as many children as the Avbite Avomen.
Instances are known, under these circumstances, of
their rearing a dozen children. ^
Neither do they seem to be “ deficient in natural af-Of their
fection.” On the contrary their sensibility is keen, sensibility,
even the Avarriors Aveeping most bitterly on the loss of^"0’
their children ; though, in general, they endeavour to
appear superior to human events.
Their friendships are strong and faithful to the ut¬
termost extremity. A remarkable instance of this ap¬
peared in the case of the late Col. Byrd, who was sent
to the Cherokee nation to transact some business with
them. It happened that some of our disorderly peo¬
ple had just killed one or two of that nation. It Avas
therefore proposed in the council of the Cherokees,
that Col. Byrd should be put to death, in revenge for
the loss of their countrymen. Among them was a
chief, called Silouee, who, on some former occasion, had
contracted an acquaintance and friendship Avith Col.
Byrd. He came to him every night in his tent, and
told him not to be afraid, they should not kill himo
After many days deliberation, however, the determi¬
nation was, contrary to Silouee’s expectation, that
Byrd should be put to death ; and some warriors were
despatched as executioners. Silouee attended them ;
and Avhen they entered the tent, he threw himself be-
tAveen them and Byrd, and said to the Avarriors, “ This
man is my friend : before you get at him, you must
kilbi
75
Of their
courage.
(See also
Nos 54, 55'
supra.)
A M E
kill me.” On which they returned $ and the council
respected the principle so much as to recede from their
determination.
That “ they are timorous and cowardly,” is a cha¬
racter with which there is little reason to charge them,
when we recollect the manner in which the Iroquois
met Mons. —, who marched into their country j
in which the old men, who scorned to fly, or to survive
the capture of their town, braved death like the old
Romans in the time of the Gauls, and in which they
soon after revenged themselves by sacking and destroy¬
ing Montreal. In short, the Indian is brave, when an
enterprise depends on bravery j education with him ma¬
king the point of honour consist in the destruction of
an enemy by stratagem, and in the preservation of his
own person free from injury : or perhaps this is nature,
while it is education that teaches us to honour force
more than finesse. He will defend himself against an
host of enemies, always choosing to be killed rather
than to surrender, though it be to the whites, who he
knows will treat him well. In some situations also, he
meets death with more deliberation, and endures tor¬
tures with a firmness unknown almost to religious en¬
thusiasm among us.
Much less are they to be characterised as a people of
no vivacity, and who are excited to action or motion
only by the calls of hunger and thirst. Their dances,
in which they so much delight, and which to a Euro¬
pean would be the most severe exercise, fully contradict
this j not to mention their fatiguing marches, and the
toil they voluntarily and cheerfully undergo in their
military expeditions. It is true, that when at home
they do not employ themselves in labour or the culture
of the soil : but this again is the effect of customs and
manners, which have assigned that to the province of the
women. But it is said “ they are averse to society and
a social life.” Can any thing be more inapplicable than
this to people who always live in towns or in clans ? Or
can they be said to have no republique, who conduct all
their affairs in national councils; who pride themselves
in their national character ; who consider an insult or
injury done to an individual by a stranger as done to the
whole, and resent it accordingly ?
To form a just estimate of their genius and mental
powers, Mr Jefferson observes, more facts are want¬
ing ; and great allowance is to be made for those cir¬
cumstances of their situation which call for a display
of pax-ticular talents only. This done, we shall pro¬
bably find that the Americans are formed, in mind as
well as in body, on the same model with the homo sa¬
piens Europceus. The principles of their society for¬
bidding all compulsion, they are to be led to duty and
to enterprise by personal influence and persuasion.
Hence eloquence in council, bravery and address in
war, become the foundations of all consequence with
them. To these acquirements all their faculties are
directed. Of their bravery and address in war we have
multiplied proofs, because we have been the subjects
on which they were exercised. Of their eminence in
oratory we have fewer examples, because it is displayed
chiefly in their own councils. Some, however, we
have of very superior lustre. We may challenge the
whole orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, and of any
more eminent orator, if Europe has furnished more
eminent, to produce a single passage superior to the
3
RICA.
speech of Eogan, a Mingo chief, to Eord Dunmore Americ*,
when governor of this state. 1 he story is as follows ;1 " v"™ 1
of which, and of the speech, the authenticity is un- 7*
questionable. In the spring of the year 1774, a rob-Story af
bery and murder were committed on an inhabitant ofLogaa
the frontiers of Virginia by two Indians of the Shawa-
nee tribe. The neighbouring whites, according to their
custom, undertook tQ punish this outrage in a summary
way. Colonel Cresap, a man infamous for the many
murders he had committed on those much injured peo¬
ple, collected a party, and proceeded down the Kanha¬
way in quest of vengeance. Unfortunately a canoe of
women and children, with one man only, was seen com¬
ing from the opposite shore, unarmed, and unsuspecting
any hostile attack from the whites. Cresap and his
party concealed themselves on the bank of the river;
and the moment the canoe reached the shore, singled
out their objects, and at one fire killed every person in
it. This happened to be the family of Logan, who
had long been distinguished as a friend of the whites.
This unworthy return provoked his vengeance. He ac¬
cordingly signalized himself in the war which ensued.
In the autumn of the same year, a decisive battle was
fought at the mouth of the Great Kanhaway, between
the collected forces of the Shawanees, Mingoes, and
Delawares, and a detachment of the Virginian militia.
The Indians were defeated, and sued for peace ; Logan,
however, disdained to be seen among the suppliants :
but, lest the sincerity of a treaty should be distrusted,
from which so distinguished a chief absented himself,
he sent by a messenger the following speech, to be de- ^
livered to Lord Dunmore:-—“ I appeal to any whiteSpecime«s
man to say if ever he entered Logan’s cabin hungry, of India#
and he gave him not meat : if ever he came cold and
naked, and he clothed him not. During the course
of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle
in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my
love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as
they passed, and said, Logan is the friend of white men.
I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the
injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in
cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations
of Logan, not sparing even my women and children.
There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any
living creature. This called on me for revenge. I
have sought it; I have killed many ; I have fully glut¬
ted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the
beams of peace ; but do not harbour a thought that
mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He
will not turn on his heel to save his life? Who is there
to mourn for Logan ? Not one.”
To the preceding anecdotes, in favour of the Ameri-Other a-
can character, may be added the following by Dr Ben-needotes,
jamiu Franklin. The Indian men, when young, are
hunters and warriors : when old, counsellors ; for all
their government is by the counsel or advice of the
sages. Hence they generally study oratory; the best
speaker having the most influence. The Indian wo¬
men till the ground, dress the food, nurse and bring
up the children, and preserve and hand down to poste¬
rity the memory of public transactions. These employ-
numts of men and women are accounted natural and ho¬
nourable. Having few artificial wants, they have abun¬
dance of leisure for improvement by conversation. Our
laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they
esteem
America.
_ .79
PoHtenes
and civili
<*f the A-
euerican In-
^iaus.
A M E
esteem slavish and base ; and the learning on which
we value ourselves, they regard as frivolous and use¬
less.
Having frequent occasions to hold public councils,
they have acquired great order and decency in conduct¬
ing them. The old men sit in the foremost ranks, the
warriors in the next, and the women and children in
the hindmost. The business of the women is to take
exact notice of what passes ; imprint it in their memo¬
ries, for they have no writing,*and communicate it to
their children. They are the records of the council,
and they preserve tradition of the stipulations in trea¬
ties a hundred years back ; which, when we compare
with our writings, we always find exact. He that
would speak rises. The rest observe a profound silence.
When he has finished, and sits down, they leave him
five or six minutes to recollect, that if he has omitted
any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add,
he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt ano¬
ther, even in common conversation, is reckoned highly
indecent.
. . ... ^ie politeness of these savages in conversation is,
the'A- luleed’ carriefi to excess; since it does not permit
them to contradict or deny the truth of what is asserted
in their presence. By this means they indeed avoid
disputes ; but then it becomes difficult to know their
minds, or what impression you make upon them. The
missionaries who have attempted to convert them to
Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great¬
est difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear with
patience the truths of the gospel explained to them,
and give their usual tokens of assent and approbation ;
but this by no means implies conviction ; it is mere
civility.
W hen any of them come into our towns, our people
are apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and in¬
commode them whex-e they desire to be private ; this
they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the want
of instruction in the rules of civility and good manners,
s‘ We have (say they) as much curiosity as you ; and
when you come into our towns, we wish for opportuni¬
ties of looking at you ; but for this purpose we hide
ourselves behind bushes where you are to pass, and ne¬
ver intrude ourselves into your company.”
Their manner of entering one another’s villages has
likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling
strangers to enter a village abruptly, without giving
notice of their approach. rlherefore, as soon as they
arrive within hearing, they stop and holla, remaining
there till invited to enter. Two old men usually come
out to them, and lead them in. There is in every vil¬
lage a vacant dwelling, called the stranger's house. Here
they are placed, while the old men go round from hut
to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that strangers are
arrived, who are probably hungry and weary; and eve¬
ry one sends him what he can spare of victuals and skins
to repose on. When the strangers are refreshed, pipes
and tobacco are. brought; and then, but not before,
conversation begins, with inquiries who they are, whi¬
ther bound, what news, &c. and it usually ends with
oilers of service, if the strangers have occasion for guides,
or any necessaries for continuing their journey ; and no¬
thing is exacted for the entertainment.
Hie same hospitality, esteemed among them as a
Vol. II. Part I. |
80
Tiieir hos¬
pitality.
RICA. 25
principal virtue, is practised by private persons ; of Amerioa.
which Conrad Weiser, the interpreter, gave Dr Frank- 1 
lin the following instance : He had been naturalized
among the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohock
language. In going through the Indian country to
carry a message from our governor to the council at
Onondaga, he called at the habitation of Canassetego,
an old acquaintance, who embraced him, spi’ead furs
for him to sit on, placed before him some boiled beans
and venison, and mixed some rum and water for his
drink. When he was well refreshed, and had lit his
pipe, Canassetego began to converse with him ; asked
how lie had fared the many years since they had seen
each other, whence he then came, what had occasioned
the journey, &c. Conrad answered all his questions ;
and when the discourse began to flag, the Indian, to
continue it, said, << Conrad, you have lived long among
the white people, and know something of their cu- '
stoms ; I have been sometimes at Albany, and have ob¬
served, that once in seven days they shut up their shops,
and assemble all in the great house ; tell me what it is
for ?—W hat do they do there ?” “ They meet there
(says Conrad) to hear and learn good things.'" “ I do
not doubt (says the Indian) that they tell you so ; they
have told me the same : but I doubt the truth of what
they say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went lately
to Albany to sell my skins, and buy blankets, knives,
powder, rum, &c. You know I generally used to deal
with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little inclined this
time to try some other merchants. However, I called
first upon Hans, and asked him what he would give for
beaver. He said he could noi give more than 4s. a
pound ; but (says he) I cannot talk on business nowr;
this is the day when we meet together to learn good
things, and I am going to the meeting. So I thought
to myself, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may
as well go to the meeting too ; and I went with him.
—There stood up a man in black, and began to talk
to the people very angrily. I did not understand what
he said ; hut perceiving that he looked much at me
and at Hanson, I imagined he was angry at seeing me
there; so I went out, sat down near the house, struck
fire, and lit my pipe, waiting till the meeting should
bieak up. I thought too, that the men had mentioned
something of beaver, and I suspected that it might be
the subject of their meeting. So when they came out
I accosted my merchant.—Well Hans (says I), I
hope you have agreed to give more than 4s. a-pound ?”
“ No (says he), I cannot give so much, I cannot give
more than 3s. 6d.” “ I then spoke to several other
dealers, but they all sung the same song, three and six¬
pence, three and sixpence. This made it clear to me
that my suspicion was right j and that whatever thev
pretended of meeting to learn gooc/ things, the real pur¬
pose was, to consult how to cheat Indians in the price
of beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must
be of my opinion. If they meet so often to learn good
things, they certainly would have learned some before
this time. But they are still ignorant. You know our
practice. If a white man, in travelling through our
country, enter one of our cabins, w'e all treat him as
I treat you ; we dry him if he is wet, we warm hiiu
if he is cold, and give him meat and drink, that he
may allay his thirst and hunger; and we spread soft
I) furs
26 A M E_
America, furs for him to vest and sleep on : we demand nothing
«——y——i ]n return. But if I go into a white man’s house at
Albany, and ask for victuals and drink, they say, A V here
is your money? And if I have none, they say, Get out
you Indian dog. You see they have not yet learned
those little good things that we need no meeting to be
instructed in \ because our mothers taught them to us
when we were children ; and therefore it is impossible
their meetings should be, as they say, for any such pur¬
pose, or have any such effect; they are only to contrive
the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver.'1'1
The next question that occurs is, Whether the pecu¬
liarities of the Americans, or the disparity between them
and the inhabitants of Europe, afford sufficient grounds
for determining them, as some have done, to be a race
of men radically different from all others ?
In this question, to avoid being tedious, we shall con¬
fine ourselves to what has been advanced by Lord
Karnes j who is of opinion, that there are many differ¬
ent species of men, as well as of other animals j and
gives a hypothesis, whereby he pretends his opinion
Si may be maintained in a consistency with revelation.
Lord “ If (says he) the only rule afforded by nature for clas-
Kamcs s sing animals can be depended on, there are different
aigtmienls £■ inen as lyell as of dogs : a mastiff differs not
jor diftcrent „ - , i v  c.      
Ipcciew"11 more from a spaniel, than a white man from a negro,
or a Laplander from a Dane. And if we have any
faith in Providence, it ought to be so. Plants were
created of different kinds, to fit them for different cli¬
mates •, and so were brute animals. Certain it is, that
all men are not fitted equally for every climate. There
is scarce a climate but what is natural to sonre men,
where they prosper and flourish 5 and there is not a cli¬
mate but where some men degenerate. Doth not then
analogy lead us to conclude, that, as there are different
climates on the face of this globe, so there are different
races of men fitted for these different climates ?
“ M. Buffon, from the rule, That animals which can
procreate together, and whose progeny can also pro¬
create, are of one species, concludes, that all men are
of one race or species j and endeavours to support that
favourite opinion, by ascribing to the climate, to food,
or to other accidental causes, all the varieties that are
found among men. But is he seriously of opinion, that
any operation of climate, or of other accidental cause,
can account for the copper colour and smooth chin
universal among the Americans j the prominence of the
pudenda universal among the Hottentot women j or the
black nipple no less universal among the female Samoi-
etles ?—It is in vain to ascribe to the climate the low
stature of the Esquimaux, the smallness of their feet, or
the overgrown! size of their heads. It is equally in vain
to ascribe to climate the low stature of the Laplanders,
or their ugly visage. The black colour of negroes,
thick lips, flat nose, crisped woolly hair, and rank smell,
distinguish them from every other race of men. The
Abyssinians, on the contrary, are tall and well made,
their complexion a brown olive, features well propor¬
tioned, eyes large and of a sparkling black, thin lips, a
nose rather high than flat. There is no such difference
of climate between Abyssinia and Negroland as to pro¬
duce these striking differences.
“ Nor shall our author’s ingenious hypothesis con¬
cerning the extremities of heat and cold, purchase him
3
U I C A.
impunity with respect to the sallow complexion Oi the
Samoiedes, Laplanders, and Greenlanders. Hie Fin-1-
landers, and northern Norwegians, live in a climate
not less cold than that of the people mentioned j and
yet are fair beyond other Europeans. I say more,
there are many instances of races of people preserving
their original colour, in climates very different from
their own ; but not a single instance of the contrary, as
far as I can learn. There have been four complete ge¬
nerations of negroes in Pennsylvania, without any visible
change of colour j they continue jet black, as origi¬
nally^ Those who ascribe all to the sun, ought to con¬
sider how little probable it is, that the colour it impres¬
ses on the parents should be communicated to their
infant children, who never saw the sun : I should be as
soon induced to believe with a German naturalist, whose
name has escaped me, that the negro colour is owing to
an ancient custom in Africa, of dyeing the skin black.
Let a European, for years, expose himself to the sun
in a hot climate, till he be quite brown ; his children
will nevertheless have the same complexion with those
in Europe. From the action of the sun, is it possible
to explain, why a negro, like a European, is born with
a ruddy skin, which turns jet black the eighth or ninth
day ?
Our author next proceeds to draw some arguments
for the existence of different races of men, from the
various tempers and dispositions of different nations j
which he reckons to.be specific differences, as well as
those of colour, stature, &c, and having summed up his
evidence he concludes thus: “Upon summing up the
whole particulars mentioned above, would one hesitate
a moment to adopt the following opinion, ivere there
no counterbalancing evidence, viz. ‘ That God creat-
‘ ed many pairs of the human race, differing from
‘ each other, both externally and internally ; that he
‘ fitted those pairs for different climates, and placed
‘ each pair in its proper climate ; that the peculiari-
* ties of the original pairs were preserved entire in
‘ their descendants j who having no assistance but their
‘ natural talents, were left to gather knowledge from
‘ experience, and, in particular, were left (each tribe)
‘ to form a language for itself*, that signs were suffi-
* eient for the original pairs, without any language
‘ but what nature suggests ; and that a language was
‘ formed gradually as a tribe increased in numbers,
‘ and in different occupations, to make speech neces-
‘ sary ?’ But this opinion, however plausible, we are
not permitted to adopt ; being taught a different lesson
by revelation, viz. That God created but a single
pair of the human species. Though we cannot doubt
the authority of Moses, yet his account of the crea¬
tion of man is not a little puzzling, as it seems to con¬
tradict everyone of the facts mentioned above. Ac¬
cording to that account, different races of men were
not formed, nor were men formed originally for differ¬
ent climates. All men must have spoken the same
language, viz. that of our first parents. And what of
all seems the most contradictory to that account, is the
savage state : Adam, as Moses informs us, was endued
by lus Maker with an eminent degree of knowledge j
and he certainly was an excellent preceptor to his chil¬
dren and their progeny, among whom he lived many
generations. Whence then the degeneracy of all men
into the savage state ? To account for that dismal ca¬
tastrophe,
America.
A M E
America, tastrophe, mankind must have suffered some terrible
1——v—' convulsion. That terrible convulsion is revealed to us
82 in the history of the tower of Babel contained in the
thesis^cott 1 chapter of Genesis, which is,4 That, for many cen-
ceming the * turips after the deluge, the whole earth was of one
origin of 4 language, and of one speech; that they united to
the differ- 4 build a city on a plain in the land of Shinar, with a
cm species, ( towei. whose top might reach unto heaven j that the
4 Lord, beholding the people to be one, and to have
4 all one language, and that nothing would be re-
4 strained from them which they imagined to do, con-
4 founded their language that they might not under-
4 stand one another, and scattered them abroad upon
4 the face of all the earth.’ Here light breaks forth
in the midst of darkness. By confounding the language
of men, and scattering them abroad upon the face of all
the earth, they were rendered savages. And to harden
them for their new habitations, it was necessary that
they should be divided into different kinds, fitted for
difierent climates. Without an immediate change of
constitution, the builders of Babel could not possibly
have subsisted in the burning region of Guinea, nor in
the frozen region of Lapland j houses not being prepa¬
red, nor any other convenience to protect them against
a destructive climate.”
incomplete. may ^rst remaI‘k> on his lordship’s hypothesis,
that it is evidently incomplete j for, allowing the human
race to have been divided into different species at the
confusion of languages, and that each species was ad¬
apted to a particular climate $ by what means were
they to get to the climates proper for them, or how
were they to know that such climates existed P How
was an American, for instance, when languishing in an
improper climate at Babel, to get to the land of the
Amazons, or the banks of the Oroonoko, in his own
country ? or how was he to kn^w that these places
were more proper for him than others ?—If, indeed
we take the Scripture phrase, 44 The Lord scattered
them abroad upon the face of all the earth,” in a cer¬
tain sense, we may account for it. If we suppose that
the different species were immediately carried off by
a whirlwind, or other supernatural means, to their pro¬
per countries, the difficulty will vanish : but if this is
his lordship’s interpretation, it is certainly a very sin-
S4 gular one-
General Before entering upon a consideration of the particu-
principles jar arguments used by our author for proving the di-
hi viewTn vers‘ty of species in the human race, it will be proper
reasoning ^ ^own th® following general principles, which
on this may serve as axioms. (1.) When we assert a multi-
subject. plicity of species in the human race, we bring in a su¬
pernatural cause to solve a natural phenomenon: for
these species are supposed to be the immediate work
of the I)eity. (2.) No person has a right to call any
thing the immediate effect of Omnipotence, unless by
express revelation from the Deity, or from a certain¬
ty that no natural cause is sufficient to produce the ef¬
fect. 1. he reason is plain. The Deity is invisible, and
so are many natural causes; when we see an effect, there¬
fore, of which the cause does not manifest itself, we
cannot know whether the immediate cause is the Deity
or an invisible natural power. An example of this we
have in the phenomena of thunder and earthquakes,
which were often ascribed immediately to the Deity,
but are now discovered to be the effects of electricity.
RICA.
(3.) No person can assert natural causes to be insuffi- America.
cient to produce such and such effects, unless he per- ' v »
fectly knows all these causes and the limits of their
power in all possible cases ; and this no man has ever
known or can know.
By keeping in view those principles, which wre hope
are self-evident, we will easily see Lord Karnes’s ar¬
guments to consist entirely in a petitio prhicipii.—In
substance they are all reduced to this single sentence :
44 Natural philosophers have been hitherto unsuccessful
in their endeavours to account for the differences ob¬
served among mankind ; therefore these differences can¬
not be accounted for from natural causes.”
His Lordship, however, tells us in the passages al-Inconsist-
ready quoted, that 44 a mastiff differs not more from apncy iu
spaniel, than a Laplander from a Dane that 44 it is^^,,
vain to ascribe to climate the low stature of the Lap-.irgUllle,i|u
landers, or their ugly visage.”—Yet, in a note on the
word Laplanders, he subjoins, that, 44 by late accounts
it appears, that the Laplanders are only degenerated
Tartars ; and that they and the Hungarians originally
sprung from the same breed of men, and from the same
country.”—The Hungarians are generally handsome
and well-made, like Danes, or like other people. The
Laplanders, he tells us, differ as much from them as a
mastiff from a spaniel. Natural causes, therefore, ac¬
cording to Lord Karnes himself, may cause two indivi¬
duals of the same species of mankind differ from each
other as much as a mastiff does from a spaniel.
While we are treating this subject of colour, it may Remark-
not be amiss to observe, that a very remarkable differ- able differ¬
ence of colour may accidentally happen to individuals ence ofco-
of the same species. In the isthmus of Darien, a sin-
gular race of men has been discovered.—They are ofcausf.s>
low’ stature, of a feeble make, and incapable of endu¬
ring fatigue. Their colour is a dead milk-white ; not
resembling that of fair people among Europeans, but
without any blush or sanguine complexion. Their skin
is covered with a fine hairy down of a chalky white ;
the hair of their heads, their eyebrows, and eyelashes,
are of the same hue. Their eyes are of a singular
form, and so weak, that they can hardly bear the light
of the sun ; but they see clearly by moonlight, and are
most active and gay in the night. Among the negroes
of Africa, as well as the natives of the Indian islands,
a small number of these people are produced. They
are called Albinos by the Portuguese, and Kackerlakes
by the Dutch. 87
This race of men is not indeed permanent; but it isC0lourn°
sufficient to show, that mere colour is by no means the
characteristic of a certain species of mankind. The dif-
ference of colour in these individuals is undoubtedly species;
owing to a natural cause. To constitute, then, a race
of men of this colour, it would only be necessary that
this cause, which at present is merely accidental, should
become permanent, and we cannot know but it may be
so in some parts of the world. 8S
If a difference in colour is no characteristic of a dif-nor stature,
ferent species of mankind, much less can a difference
in stature be thought so. In the southern parts of A-
meiica, there is said to be a race of men exceeding
the common size in height and strength *. This ac-* See Prtffl-
count, however, is doubted of by some ; but be thatff072^-
as it will, it is certain that the Esquimaux are as much
under the common size, as the Patagonians are said to
D 2 be
28
Afiiencp.
AMERICA.
s,
^Different
causes con¬
tribute to¬
wards an
alteration
iu colour.
<jc
Habit ca¬
pable of al¬
tering the
instinct of
animals.
V^yc^e
round the
World,
^0\. i.
P- 234-*
be above it. Nevertheless we are not to imagine, that
either of these are specific differences j seeing the Lap¬
landers and Hungarians are both of the same species,
and yet the former are generally almost a foot shorter
than the latter; and if a difference of climate, or other
accidental causes, can make the people of one country
a foot shorter than the common size of mankind, un¬
doubtedly accidental causes of a contrary nature may
make those of another country a foot taller than other
men.
Though the sun has undoubtedly a share in the pro¬
duction of the swarthy colour of those nations which
are most exposed to his influence ; yet the manner of
living to which people are accustotned, their victuals,
their employment, &c. must contribute very much to
a difference of complexion. There are some kinds of
colouring roots, which if mixed with the food of cer¬
tain animals, will tinge even their bones of a yellow
colour. It cannot be thought any great degree of cre¬
dulity to infer from this, that if these roots were mixed
with the food of a white man, they might without a
miracle, tinge his skin of a yellow colour. If a man
and woman were both to use food of this kind for a
length of time, till they became, as it were, radically
dyed, it is impossible, without the intervention of divine
power, or of some extraordinary natural cause, but their
children must be of the same colour ; and was the same
kind of food to be continued for several generations, it
is more than probable that this colour might resist the
continued use of any kind of food whatever. See fur¬
ther the article Complexion.
Of this indeed we have no examples, but we have
an example of changes much more wonderful. It is
allowed on all hands, that it is more easy to work a
change upon the body of a man, or any other animal,
than upon his mind. A man that is naturally cho¬
leric may indeed learn to prevent the bad effects of his
passion by reason, but the passion itself will remain as
immutable as his colour. But to reason in a manner
similar to Lord Karnes; though a man should be na¬
turally choleric, or subject to any other passion, why
should his children be so ?—This way of reasoning,
however plausible, is by no means conclusive ; as will
appear from the following passage in Mr Forster’s.
Voyage.
June 9th. “ The officers who could not yet relish
their salt provisions after the refreshments of New Zea¬
land, had ordered their black dog, mentioned p. 135.
to be killed : this day, therefore, we dined for the first
time on a leg of it roasted ; which tasted so exactly
like mutton, that it was absolutely undistinguishable.
In our cold countries, where animal food is so much
used, and where to be carnivorous perhaps lies in
the nature of men, or is indispensably necessary to
the preservation of their health and strength, it is
strange that there should exist a Jewish aversion to dogs
flesh, when hogs, the most uncleanly of all animals,
are eaten without scruple. Nature seems expressly to
have intended them for this use, by making their off¬
spring so very numerous, and their increase so quick
and frequent. It may be objected, that the exalted
degree of instinct which we observe in our dogskin-
spires us with great unwillingness to kill and eat them.
But it is owing to the time we spend on the education
of dogs, that they acquire those eminent qualities
which attach them so much to us. The natural quali- America.
ties of our dogs may receive a wonderful improvement;  ->
but education must give its assistance, without which
the human mind itself, though capable ot an immense
expansion, remains in a very contracted state. In New
Zealand, and (according to former accounts of voyages)
in the tropical isles of the South sea, the dogs are the
most stupid dull animals imaginable, and do not seem to
have the least advantage in point of sagacity over our
sheep, which are commonly made the emblems of silli¬
ness. In the former country they are fed upon fish, in
the latter on vegetables, and both these diets may have
served to alter their disposition. Education may per¬
haps likewise graft new instincts ; the New Zealand
dogs are fed on the remains of their master’s meals;
they eat the bones of other dogs ; and the puppies be¬
come true cannibals from their birth. We had a young
New Zealand puppy on board, which had certainly had
no opportunity of tasting any thing but the mother’s
milk before we purchased it : however, it eagerly de¬
voured a portion of the flesh and bones of the dog on
which we dined to day ; while several others of the Eu¬
ropean breed, taken on board at the Cape, turned from
it without touching it.
“ On the 4th of August, a young bitch, of the ter-2i. p. 243,
tier breed, taken on board at the Cape of Good Hope,
and covered by a spaniel, brought ten young ones, one
of which was dead. The New Zealand dog mention¬
ed above, which devoured the bones of the roasted
dog, now fell upon the dead puppy, and ate of it with
a ravenous appetite. This is a proof how far education
may go in producing and propagating new instincts in
animals. European dogs are never fed on the meat of
their own species, but rather seem to abhor it. The
New Zealand dogs, in all likelihood, are trained up
from their earliest age to eat the remains of their ma¬
ster’s meals : they are therefore used to feed upon fish,
their own species, and perhaps human flesh ; and what
was only owing to a habit at first, may have become
instinct by length of time. This was remarkable in our
cannibal dog , for he came on board so young, that he
could not have been weaned long enough to have ac¬
quired a habit of devouring his own species, and much
less of eating human flesh ; however, one of our sea¬
men having cut his finger, held it out to the dog,
who fell to greedily, licked it, and then began to bite
it.”
From this account it appears, that even the instincts
of animals are not unchangeable by natural causes; and
if these causes are powerful enough to change the dis¬
positions of succeeding generations, much more may we
suppose them capable of making any possible alteration
in the external appearance. yr
We are not here necessitated to confine ourselves to Confnnie«£
observations made on brute animals. The Franks areobsfr-
at) example of the production of one general character, vat‘on on
formed by some natural cause from a mixture of many
different nations.—They were a motley multitude,
consisting of various German nations dwelling beyond
the Rhine : who, uniting in defence of their common
liberty, took thence the name of Franks; the word
frank signifying in their language, as it still does in
ours, free. Among them the following nations were
mentioned, viz. the Actuarii, Cbamavi, Bructeri, Sa-
lii, Erisii, Chausi, Amswarii, and Catti. We cannot
suppose
the Franks.
AMERICA.
2{j
Am*ilea, suppose one character to belong to so many different
nations-, yet it is certain that the Franks were nation¬
ally characterized as treacherous j and so deeply seems
this quality to have been rooted in their nature, that
their descendents have not got quite free of it in 1500
years. It is in vain, then, to talk of different races of
men, either from their colour, size, or prevailing dis¬
positions, seeing we have undeniable proofs that all these
may be changed in the most remarkable manner, by
natural causes, without any miraculous interposition of
the Deity.
92
Of the peo¬
pling- of
America.
t»u ways.
The next question, then, which presents itself is,
From what part of the old world America lias most pro¬
bably been peopled ?
Discoveries long ago made inform us, that an inter¬
course between the old continent and America might
be carried on with facility from the north-west extre¬
mities of Europe and the north-east boundaries of A-
sia. In the ninth century the Norwegians discovered
Greenland, and planted a colony there. The com¬
munication with that country was renewed in the last
century by Moravian missionaries, in order to propa¬
gate their doctrines in that bleak and uncultivated re¬
gion. By them we are informed that the north-west
coast of Greenland is separated from America by a very
narrow strait; that at the bottom of the bay it is high¬
ly probable that they are united ; that the Esquimaux of
9, America perfectly resemble the Greenlanders in their
A comma- aspect, dress, and mode of living ; and that a Moravian
joication missionai-y, well acquainted with the language of Green-
ihe'okT'and ^an^’ having visited the country of the Esquimaux,
new conti- f°un^j to his astonishment, that they spoke the same lan-
aients by guage with the Greenlanders, and were in every respect
the same people. The same species of animals, too, are
found in the contiguous regions. The beax-, the wolf,
the fox, the hare, the deer, the roebuck, the elk, fre¬
quent the forests of North America, as well as those in
the north of Eux-ope.
Otbrer discoveries have proved, that if the two con¬
tinents of Asia and America he separated at all, it is
only by a narrow strait. From this part of the old con¬
tinent, also, inhabitants may have passed into the new;
and the resemblance between the Indians of America
and the eastern inhabitants of Asia, would induce us to
conjecture that they have a common origin. This is
the opinion adopted by Dr Robertson in his History of
America *, where we find it accompanied with the fol-
fj America, lowing narrative.
“ While those immense regions which stretch east¬
ward from the river Oby to the sea of Kamtschatka
were unknown, or imperfectly explored, the north-east
extremities of our hemisphere, were supposed to he so
far distant from any part of the new world, that it
was not easy to conceive how any communication should
have been carried on between them. But the Russians,
having subjected the western parts of Siberia to their
empire, gradually extended their knowledge of that vast
country, by advancing towards the east into unknown
provinces. These were discovered by hunters in their
excursions after game, or by soldiers employed in levy¬
ing the taxes j and the court of Moscow estimated the
importance of those countries only by the small addi¬
tion which they made to its revenue. At length, Pe¬
ter the Great ascended the Russian throne t His en-
History
•/
vo!
lightened comprehensive mind, intent upon every cir- America,
cumstance that could aggrandize his empire, or render y——
his reign illustrious, discerned consequences of these dis¬
coveries, which had escaped the observation of his igno¬
rant predecessors. He perceived that, in proportion as
the regions of Asia extended towards the east, they must
approach nearer to America ; that the communication
between the continents, which had long been searched
for in vain, would probably be found in this quarter j
and that, by opening this intercourse, some part of the
wealth and commerce of the western world might be
made to flow into his dominions by a new channel.
Such an object suited a genius that delighted in grand
schemes. Peter drew up instructions with his own
hands for prosecuting this design, and gave orders for
carrying it into execution.
“ His successors adopted his ideas, and pursued his
plan. The officers whom the Russian court employed
in this service, had to struggle with so many difficulties,
that their progress was extremely slow. Encouraged
by some faint traditions among the people of Siberia,
concerning a successful voyage in the year 1648 round
the north-east promontory of Asia, they attempted to
follow the some course. Vessels were fitted out, with
this view, at different times, from the rivers Lena and
Colyma j but in a frozen ocean, which nature seems
not to have destined for navigation, they were exposed
to many disasters, without being able to accomplish
their purpose. No vessel fitted out by the Russian court
ever doubled this formidable cape •, we are indebted for
what is known of those extreme regions of Asia, to the
discoveries'made in excursions by land. In all those
provinces, an opinion prevails, that countries of great
extent and fertility lie at no considerable distance from
their own coasts. These the Russians imagined to be
part of America j and several circumstances concurred
not only in confirming them in this belief, but in per¬
suading them that some portion of that continent could
not be very remote. Trees of various kinds, unknown
in those naked regions of Asia, are driven upon the
coast by an easterly wind. By the same wind floating
ice is brought thither rtt a few days j flights of birds
arrive annually from the same quarter j and a tradition
obtains among the inhabitants, of an intercourse for¬
merly carried on with some countries situated to the
east.
“ After weighing all these particulars, and compar¬
ing the position of the countries in Asia winch they
had discovered, with such parts in the north-west of
America as were already known j the Russian court
formed a plan, which would have hardly occurred to any
nation less accustomed to engage in arduous underta¬
kings and to contend with great difficulties. Orders
were issued to build two vessels at Oclrotz, in the
sea of Kamtschatka, to sail on a voyage of discovery.
Though that dreary uncultivated region furnished no¬
thing that could be of use in constructing them but
some larch trees; though not only the iron, the cord
age, the sails, and all the numerous articles requisite
lor their equipment, but the provisions for victualling
them, were to be carried through the immense deserts
of Siberia, along rivers of difficult navigation, and roads
almost impassable, the mandate of tire sovereign, and
tire perseverance of the people, at last surmounted every
obstacle^ Two vessels were finished ; and under the
command i
AMERICA.
command of the captains Behring and Tschirikow, sail¬
ed from K'amtscbatka in quest of the new world, in a
quarter where it had never been approached. 'I hey
shaped their course towards the east j and though a storm
soon separated the vessels, which never rejoined, and
many disasters befel them, the expectations from the
voyage were not altogether frustrated. Each of the
commanders discovered land, which to them appeared
to be part of the American continent; and, according
to their observations, it seems to be situated within a
few degrees of the north-west coast of California. Each
set some of his people ashore : but in one place the in¬
habitants fled as the Russians approached ; in another,
they carried off those who landed, and destroyed their
boats. The violence of the vreather, and the distress of
their crews, obliged both to quit this inhospitable coast.
In their return they touched at several islands, which
stretch in a chain from east to west between the country
which they had discovered and the coast of Asia. They
had some intercourse with the natives, who seemed to
them to resemble the North Americans. They pre¬
sented to the Russians the calumet, or pipe of peace,
which is a symbol of friendship universal among the peo¬
ple of North America, and a usage of arbitrary institu¬
tion peculiar to them.”
The more recent and accurate discoveries of the il-
■;r-g lustrious navigator Cook, and his successor Clerke,
contiuents ^ave brought the matter still nearer to certainty. The
to Lave sea, from the south of Behring’s straits to the crescent
been once of isles between Asia and America, is very shallow. It
94
Reasons for
joined.
deepens from these straits (as the British seas do from
those of Dover) till soundings are lost in the Pacific
ocean j but that does not take place but to the south
of the isles. Between them and the straits is an increase
from twelve to fifty-four fathoms, except only off St
Thaddeus Noss, where there is a channel of greater
depth. From the volcanic disposition, it has been judg¬
ed probable, not only that there was a separation of the
continents at the straits of Behring, but that the whole
space from the isles to that small opening had once been
occupied by land j and that the fury of the watery ele¬
ment, actuated by that of fire, had, in most remote
times, subverted and overwhelmed the tract, and left
the islands monumental fragments.
Without adopting all the fancies of Buffon, there
can be no doubt, as the abbe Clavigero observes, that
jiient sepa-our P*anet has been subject to great vicissitudes, since
ration. the deluge. Ancient and modern histories confirm the
truth which Ovid has sung in the name of Pythagoras:
95
Probable
cause of
their subse-
Video ego quod fuerat quondam solidissima tellus.
Esse freturn ; vidi factas ex cequore terras.
At present they plough those lands over which ships
formerly sailed, and now they sail over lands which
were formerly cultivated j earthquakes have swallowed
some lands, and subterraneous fires have thrown up
others •, the rivers have formed new soil with their
mud : the sea retreating from the shores has lengthen¬
ed the land in some places, and advancing in others
has diminished it j it has separated some territories
which were formerly united, and formed new straits
and gulfs. We have examples of all these revolutions
in the past century. Sicily was united to the con¬
tinent of Naples, and the island Euboea to Boeotia.
Diodorus, Strabo, and other ancient authors, say the
same thing of Spain and Africa, and affirm, that by a ^llier
violent irruption of the ocean upon the land between <—-y
the mountains Abyla and Calpe, that communication
was broken, and the Mediterranean sea was formed.
Among the people of Ceylon there is a tradition that
a similar irruption of the sea separated their island from
the peninsula of India. The same thing is believed by
those of Malabar with respect to the isles of Maldivia,
and with the Malayans with respect to Sumatra. It
is certain, says the count de Buffon, that in Ceylon the
earth has lost thirty or forty leagues, which the sea has
taken from it j on the contrary, Tongres, a place of
the Low Countries, has gained 30 leagues of land from
the sea. The northern part of Egypt owes its exist¬
ence to inundations of the Nile. The earth which
this river has brought from the inland countries of A-
frica, and deposited in its inundations, has formed a
soil of more than 25 cubits in depth. In like manner,
adds the above author, the province of the Yellow
River in China, and that of Louisiana, have only been
formed of the mud of rivers. Eliny, Seneca, Diodorus,
and Strabo, report innumerable examples of similar re¬
volutions, which we omit, that our dissertation may not
become too prolix 5 as also many modern revolutions,
which are related in the theory of the earth of the
count de Buffon and other authors. In South Ameri¬
ca, all those who have observed with philosophic eyes
the peninsula of Yucatan, do not doubt that that coun¬
try has once been the bed of the sea j and, on the con¬
trary, in the channel of Bahama many indications show
the island of Cuba to have been once united to the
continent of Florida. In the strait which separates
America from Asia, many islands are found, which
probably were the mountains belonging to the tract of
land which we suppose to have been swallowed up by
earthquakes ; which is made more probable by the
multitude of volcanoes which we know of in the penin- .
sula of Kamtschatka. It is imagined, however, that the
sinking of that land, and the separation of the two
continents, has been occasioned by those great and ex¬
traordinary earthquakes mentioned in the histories of
the Americans, which formed an era almost as memo-
rable as that of the deluge. The histories of the Tolte-
cas fix such earthquakes in the first year of Tecpatlbut
as we know not to what century that belonged, we can
form no conjecture of the time that great calamity
happened. If a great earthquake should overwhelm
the isthmus of Suez, and there should be at the same
time as great a scarcity of historians as there w'as in
the first ages after the deluge, it would be doubted,
in 300 or 400 years after, whether Asia had ever been
united by that part to Africa j and many would firmly
deny it. _
Whether that great event, the separation of the Separated
continents, took place before or after the population of0,dy Ly a
America, is as impossible as it is of little moment for us nairow *
to know j but we are indebted to the above-mentioned
navigators for settling the long dispute about the point
from which it w'as effected. Their observations prove,
that in one place the distance between continent and
continent is only 39 miles, (not as tbe author of the
Recherches RlnlosophiquessurlesAmericains would have 57
it) 800 leagues. This narrow strait has also in the F.asmeH oi
middle two islands, which would greatly facilitate thetlicl)asit*S1'
migration of the Asiatics into the new world, suppo¬
sing
strait.
A M E II I C A.
9S
Conjec-
99
Mr Pen
America. s>n£ that it took place in canoes after the convulsion
—^— which rent the two continents asunder. Besides, it
may be added, that these straits are, even in the sum¬
mer, often filled with ice ; in winter, often frozen. In
either case mankind might find an easy passage ; in the
last, the way was extremely ready for quadrupeds to
cross and stock the continent of America. But where,
from the vast expanse of the north-eastern world, to fix
on the first tribes who contributed to people the new
continent, now inhabited almost from end to end, is a
matter that baffles human reason. The learned may
make bold and ingenious conjectures, but plain good
sense cannot always accede to them.
As mankind increased in numbers, tiiey naturally
tures con- protruded one another forward. Wars might be an-
S~!°ther cause of migrations. There appears no reason
tions into why the Asiatic north might not be an officina virorinn,
the new as well as the European. The overteeming country,
continent, to (.|ie east 0f the Biphaean mountains, must find it ne¬
cessary to discharge its inhabitants: the first great w'ave
of people was forced forward by the next to it, more
tumid and more powerful than itself; successive and
new impulses continually arriving, short rest was given
to that which spread over a more eastern tract; dis¬
turbed again and again, it covered fresh regions ; at
length, reaching the farthest limits of the old world,
found a new one, with ample space to occupy unmo¬
lested for ages : till Columbus cursed them by a disco¬
very, which brought again new sins and new dedths to
both worlds.
“ The inhabitants of the new world (Mr Pennant
nant’s opi- observes) do not consist of the offspring of a single na-
n,ou‘ tion: different peoples, at several periods, arrived there;
I00 and it is impossible to say, that any one is now to be
The bulk found on the original spot of its colonization. It is
of its inha- impossible, with the lights which we have so recently
^'received, to admit that America could receive its in-
received habitants (at least the bulk of them) from any other
place than eastern Asia. A few proofs may be added,
taken from customs or dresses common to the inhabi¬
tants of both worlds; some have been long extinct in
the old, others remain in both in full force.
“ The custom of scalping was a barbarism in use
with the Scythians, who carried about them at all times
milarity ol this savage mark of triumph : they cut a circle round
cusiunn,, tjie necj.j an(] stripped off the skin, as they would that
of an ox. A little image found among the Calmucks,
of a Tartarian deity, mounted on a horse, and sitting
on a human skin, with scalps pendent from the breast,
fully illustrates the custom of their Scythiao progeni¬
tors, as described by the Greek historian. This usage,
as the Europeans know by horrid experience, is conti¬
nued to this day in America. The ferocity of the
Scythians to their prisoners extended to the remotest
part of Asia. The Kamtschatkans, even at the time
of their discovery by the Russians, put their prisoners
to death by the most lingering and excruciating inven¬
tions; a practice in full force to this very day among
the aboriginal Americans. A race of the Scythians
were styled Anthropophagi, from their feeding on hu¬
man flesh. The people of Nootka Sound still make
a repast on their fellow-creatures ; but what is more
wonderful, the savage allies of the British army have
been known to throw the mangled limbs of the French
from the
eastern
part of
Asia.
101
Proofs
from a si
prisoners into the horrible caldron, and devour them America
with the same relish as those of a quadruped. ‘ ¥— «
“ The Scythians were said, for a certain time, an- 102
nually to transform themselves into wolves, and again ^ustoms
to resume the human shape. The new-discovered A-“n<* ^ies!ie'
-vt i £ j i • • .. common to
mericans about JNootka bound at tins tune disguise the eastern
themselves in dresses made of the skins of wolves and Asiatics
other wild beasts, and wear even the heads fitted toanc^
their own. These habits they use in the chase, to ^meiicans.
circumvent the animals of the field. But would not
ignorance or superstition ascribe to a supernatural me¬
tamorphosis these temporary expedients to deceive t!ie
brute creation P
“ In their marches, the Kamtschatkans never went
abreast, but followed one another in the same track.
The same custom is exactly observed by the Ameri¬
cans.
“ The Tungusi, the most numerous nation resident
in Siberia, prick their faces with small punctures, with
a needle, in various shapes; then rub into them char¬
coal, so that the marks become indelible. This custom
is still observed in several parts of America. The In¬
dians on the back of Hudson’s bay, to this day, per¬
form the operation exactly in the same manner, and
puncture the skin into various figures ; as the natives
of New Zealand do at present, and as the ancient
Britons did with the herb glastum, or woad ; and the
Virginians, on the first discovery of that country by the
English.
“ The Tungusi use canoes made of birch bark,
distended over ribs of wood, and nicely sewed toge¬
ther. The Canadians, and many other American na¬
tions, use no other sort of boats. The paddles of the
Tungusi are broad at each end ; those of the people
near Cook’s river, and of Oonalascha, are of the same
form.
“ In burying of the dead, many of the American
nations place the corpse at full length, after preparing
it according to their customs ; others place it in a sit¬
ting posture, and lay by it the most valuable clothing,
wampum, and other matters. The Tartars did the
same ; and both people agree in covering the whole
with earth, so as to form a tumulus, barrow, or car-
nedd.
“ Some of the American nations hang their dead
in trees. Certain of the Tungusi observe a similar cu¬
stom. ,
“ We can draw some analogy from dress : conveni-
ency in that article must have been consulted on both
continents, and originally the materials must have been
the same, the skins of birds and beasts. It is singular,
that the conic bonnet of the Chinese should be found
among the people of Nootka. I cannot give into the
notion, that the Chinese contributed to the population
of the new world ; but we can readily admit, that a
shipwreck might furnish those Americans with a pat¬
tern for that part of the dress. I0 ,
“ In respect to the features and form of the human Other re¬
body, almost every tribe found along the western coast semblance.
has some similitude to the Tartar nations, and still
retains the little eyes, small noses, high cheeks, and
broad faces. They vary in size, from the lusty Cal¬
mucks to the little Nogaians. The internal Ameri¬
cans, such as.the Five Indian nations, who are tall of
body^,,
32
America, body, robust of make, and of oblong faces, are derived
from a variety among the 1 artars themselves. The fine
race of Tschutski seems to he the stock from which those
Americans are derived. The Tschutski, again, from
that fine race of Tartars the Kabardinski, or inhabit¬
ants of Kabarda.
“ But about Prince William’s sound begins a race
chiefly distinguished by their dress, their canoes, and
their instruments of the chase, from the tribes to the
south of them. Here commences the Esquimaux peo¬
ple, or the race known by that name in the high lati¬
tudes of the eastern side of the continent. They may
be divided into two varieties. At this place they are
of the largest size. As they advance northward, they
decrease in height, till they dwindle into the dwarfish
tribes which occupy some of the coasts of the Icy sea,
and the maritime parts of Pludson’s bay, of Greenland,
and Terra de Labrador. The famous Japanese map
places some islands seemingly within the straits of
Behring, on which is bestowed the title of Ya Sue, or the
Kingdom of the Dwarfs. Does not this in some man¬
ner authenticate the chart, and give us reason to sup¬
pose that America was not unknown to the Japanese ;
and that they had (as is mentioned by Ktempter and
Charlevoix) made voyages of discovery, and, accord¬
ing to the last, actually wintered on the continent ?
That they might have met with the Esquimaux is very
probable : whom, in comparison of themselves, they
might justly distinguish by the name of dwarfs. The
reason of their low stature is very obvious : these
dwell in a most severe climate, amidst penury of food •,
the former in one much more favourable, abundant in
provisions—circumstances that tend to prevent the de¬
generacy of the human frame. At the island of Oona-
lascha, a dialect of the Esquimaux is in use, which was
continued along the whole coast from thence north¬
ward.”
The continent which stocked America with the hu¬
man race poured in the brute creation through the
i*y the same same passage. Very few quadrupeds continued in the
route. peninsula of Kamtschatka 5 Mr Pennant enumerates
only 25 which are inhabitants of land : all the rest
persisted in their migration, and fixed their residence
in the new world. Seventeen of the Kamtschatkan
quadrupeds are found in America : others are common
only to Siberia or Tartary, having, for unknown causes,
entirely evacuated Kamtschatka, and divided them¬
selves between America and the part of Asia above
cited. Multitudes again have deserted the old world
even to an individual, and fixed their seats at di¬
stances most remote from the spot from' which they
took their departure j from Mount Ararat, the resting-
place of the ark, in a central part of the old world,
and excellently adapted for the dispersion of the ani¬
mal creation to all its parts. We need not be startled
(says Mr Pennant) at the vast journeys many of the
quadrupeds took to arrive at their present seats. Might
not numbers of species have found a convenient abode
in the vast Alps of Asia, instead of wandering to the
Cordilleras of Chili ? or might not others have been
contented with the boundless plains of Tartary, in¬
stead of travelling thousands of miles to the extensive
flats of Pampas ?—To endeavour to elucidate common
difficulties is certainly a trouble worthy of the philo-
AMERICA.
sopber and of the divine ; not to attempt it would oe a Amends,
criminal indolence, a neglect to
T04
The brute
creation
migrated
Vindicate the ways of God to man.
But there are multitudes of points beyond the human
ability to explain, and yet are truths undeniable : the
facts are indiputable, notwithstanding the causes are
concealed. In such cases, faith must be called in to
our relief. It would certainly be the height of folly
to deny to that Being who broke open the fountains
of the great deep to effect the deluge—and after¬
wards, to compel the dispersion of mankind to peo¬
ple the globe, directed the confusion of languages—
powers inferior in their nature to these. After these
wondrous powers of Omnipotence, it will be absurd to
deny the possibility of infusing instinct into the brute
creation. Dens est anima brutorum; “ God himself is
the soul of brutes His pleasure must have determin¬
ed their will, and directed several species, and even
whole genera, by impulse irresistible, to move by slow
progression to their destined regions. But for that, the
lama and the pacos might still have inhabited the herights
of Armenia and some more neighbouring Alps, in¬
stead of labouring to gain the distant Peruvian Andes }
the whole genus of armadillos, slow of foot, would
never have quitted the torrid zone of the old world
for that of the new' *, and the whole tribe of monkeys
w'ould have gamboled together in the forests of India,
instead of dividing their residence between the shades
of Indostan and the deep forests of the Brasils. Lions
and tigers might have infested the hot parts of the
new world, as the first do the deserts of Africa, andx
the last the provinces of Asia ; or the pantherine ani¬
mals of South America might have remained additional
scourges with the savage beasts of those ancient con¬
tinents. The old world would have been overstocked
with animals j the new remained an inanimated waste !
or both have contained an equal portion of every beast
of the earth. Let it not be objected, that animals
bred in a southern climate, after the descent of their
parents from the ark, would be unable to bear the
frost and snow of the rigorous north, before they reach¬
ed South America, the place of their final destination.
It must be considered, that the migration must have
been the work of ages : that in the course of their
progress each generation grew hardened to the climate
it had reached j and that after their arrival in America,
they would again be gradually accustomed to warmer
and warmer climates, in their removal from north to
south, as they had been in the reverse, or from south to
north. Part of the tigers still inhabit the eternal snows
of Ararat j and multitudes of the very same species live,
but with exalted rage, beneath the fine, in the burning
soil of Borneo or Sumatra ; but neither lions nor tigers
ever migrated into the new world. A few of the first
are found in India and Persia, but they are found in
numbers only in Africa. The tiger extends as far north
as Western Tartary, in lat. 40. 50. but never has reach¬
ed Africa.”
In fine, the conjectures of the learned respecting
the vicinity of the old and new worlds, are now, by the
discoveries of our great navigators, lost in conviction j
and in the place of imaginary hypothesis, the real
place of migration is incontrovertibly pointed out.
r Some
A M E
A-nepi-a, Some ffrom a passage in Plato) have extended over tlie
v—Atlantic, from the straits of Gibraltar to the coast
of North and South America, an island equal in size
to the continents of Asia and Africa ; over which had
passed, as over a bridge, from the latter, men and ani¬
mals, woolly-headed negroes, and lions and tigers, none
of which ever existed in the new world. A mighty
sea arose, and in one day and night engulfed this
stupendous tract, and with it every being which had
not completed its migration into America: The whole
negro race, and almost every quadruped, now inhabi¬
tants of Africa, perished in this critical day. Five
only are to be found at present in America; and of
these only one, the bear, in South America : Not a
single custom, common to the natives of Africa and
America, evinces a common origin. Of the qua¬
drupeds, the bear, stag, wolf, fox, and weasel, are
the only animals which we can pronounce with cer¬
tainty to be found on each continent. The stag, fox,
and weasel, have made also no farther progress in
Africa than the north j but on the same continent the
wolf is spread over every part, yet is unknown in
South America, as are the fox and weasel. In Africa
and South America the bear is very local, being met
with only in the north of the first, and on the Andes
in the last. Some cause unknown arrested its progress
in Africa, and impelled the migration of a few into
the Chilian Alps, and induced them to leave unoccu¬
pied the vast tract from North America to the lofty
J0. Cordilleras.
Remains of Allusions have often been made to some remains, on
antiquity the continent of America, of a more polished and cul-
America. tjvated peopiej ^jlen compared with the tribes which
possessed it on its first discovery by Europeans, Mr
Barton, in his Observations on some parts of Natural
History, Part I. has collected the scattered hints of
Kalm, Carver, and some others, and has added a plan
of a regular work which has been discovered on the hanks
of the Muskingum, near its junction with the Ohio.
These remains are principally stone walls, large mounds
of earth, and a combination of these mounds with the
walls, suspected to have been fortifications. In some
places the ditches and the fortress are said to have been
plainly seen : in others, furrows, as if the land had been
ploughed.
The mounds of earth are of two kinds : they are arti¬
ficial tumuli, designed as repositories for the dead; or
they are of a greater size, for the purpose of defending
the adjacent country j and with this view they are arti¬
ficially constructed, or advantage is taken of the natural
eminences, to raise them into a fortification.
The remains near the banks of the Muskingum, are
situated about one mile above the junction of that river
with the Ohio, and 160 miles below Fort Pitt. They
eonsist of a number of walls and other elevations, of
ditches, &c. altogether occupying a space of ground
about 300 perches in length, and from about 150 to
25 or 20 in breadth. The town, as it has been called,
is a large level, encompassed by walls, nearly in the
form of a square, the sides oi which are from 96 to 86
perches in length. These walls are, in general, about
10 feet in height above the level on which they stand,
and about 20 feet in diameter at the base, but at
the top they are much narrower; they are at present
overgrown with vegetables of different kinds, and,
Vql. II. part L f
R 1 c A. 33
among others, with trees of several feet diameter. Ameriaa.
The chasms, or openings in the walls, were probably -v—
intended for gateways j they are three in number .at
each side, besides the smaller openings in the angles.
Within the walls there are three elevations, each about
six feet in height, with regular ascents to them : these
elevations considerably resemble some of the eminences
already mentioned, which have been discovered near
the river Mississippi. This author’s opinion is, That the
Toltecas, or some other Mexican nation, were the peo¬
ple to whom the mounts and fortifications, which he
has described, owe their existence ; and that those
people were probably the descendants of the Danes.
The former part of this conjecture is thought proba¬
ble, from the similarity of the Mexican mounts and
fortifications described by the abbe Clavigero, and
other authors, to those described by our author ; and
from the tradition of the Mexicans, that they came
from the north-west} for, if we can rely on the testi¬
mony of late travellers, fortifications similar to those
mentioned by Mr Barton, have been discovered as far
to the north as Lake Pepin j and we find them, as we
approach to the south, even as low as the coasts of
Florida. The second part of our author’s conjecture
appears not so well supported.
It is believed by many, that the ancients had some TJ^an-
imperfect notions of a new world ; and several ancient cients sup.
authors are quoted in confirmation of this. In a bookP°se^ to
ascribed to the philosopher Aristotle, we are told thathave
the Carthaginians discovered an island far beyond the pe^ct'no-
pillars of Hercules, large, fertile, and finely watered tion of a ^
with navigable rivers, but uninhabited. This island new world,
was distant a few days sailing from the continent j its
beauty induced the dbcoverers to settle there j but the
policy of Carthage dislodged the colony, and laid strict
prohibition on all the subjects of the state not to at¬
tempt any future establishment. This account is also
confirmed by a historian of no mean credit, who re¬
lates, that the Tyrians would have settled a colony on
the new discovered island, but were opposed by the
Carthaginians for state reasons. The following passage
has also been quoted from Seneca’s Medea, in confirma¬
tion of this notion.
* Venient annis
Scecula seris, quibus oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Patent tellus, Typhisque novos
Delegat orbes; nec sit terris
Ultima Thule.  
Act iii. ver.
Other authors are also quoted in support of this be¬
lief. But however this may be, nobody ever believed
the existence of this continent so firmly as to go in quest
of it j at least, there are no accounts well supported
that America received any part of its first inhabitants
from Europe prior to the 15th century. The Welsh p l07
fondly imagine that our country contributed, in 1170,
to people the new world, by the adventure of Madoc, Welsh to
son of Owen Gwynedd, who, on the death of his fa-thedisco-
ther, sailed there, and colonized part of the country. very°f.A-
All that is advanced in proof is, a quotation from
of our poets, which proves no more than that he had centuir.
distinguished himself by sea and laud. It is pretended
that he made two voyages : that sailing west, he left
£ Ireland
34
America.
10S
Those of
the Nor¬
wegians
better
founded.
A M E R
Ireland so far to the north, that he came to a land un¬
known, where he saw many strange things 5 that he te-
turned home, and making a report ot the fruitfulness^
of the new-discovered country, prevailed on numbers ot
the Welsh of each sex to accompany him on a second
voyage, from which he never returned. T-he favourers
of this opinion assert, that several Welsh words, such as
gwrando, “ to hearken or listen the isle ot Ci'ocso,
or “ welcome Cape Breton, from the name of our
own island ; gwynndwr, or “ the white water j” and
pengwyn, or “ the bird with a white head 5” are to be
found in the American language. But likeness ot
sound in a few words will not be deemed sufficient to
establish the fact; especially if the meaning has been
evidently perverted : for example, the whole penguin
tribe have unfortunately not only black heads, but are
not inhabitants of the northern hemisphere} the name
was also bestowed on them by the Dutch, dpinguedine,
from their excessive fatness j but the inventor of this,
thinking to do honour to our country, inconsiderately
caught at a word of European origin, and unheard of
in the new world. It may be added, that the Welsh
were never a naval people 5 that the age in which Ma-
doc lived was peculiarly ignorant in navigation 5 and
the most which they could have attempted must have
been a mere coasting voyage.
The Norwegians put in for a share of the glory, on
grounds rather better than the Welsh. By their settle¬
ments in Iceland and in Greenland, they had arrived
within so small a distance of the new world, that there
is at least a possibility of its having been touched at by
a people so versed in maritime affairs, and so adventur¬
ous, as the ancient Nortmans were. The proofs are
much more numerous than those produced by the Bri¬
tish historians j for the discovery is mentioned in se¬
veral of the Icelandic manuscripts. The pej-iod was
about the year 1002, when it was visited by one Biorn:
and the discovery pursued to greater effect by Lief, the
son of Eric, the discoverer of Greenland. It does not
appear that they reached farther than Labrador ; on
which coast they met with Esquimaux, on whom they
bestowed the name of Skrcelingues, or dwarfish people,
from their small stature. They were armed with bows
and arrows, and had leathern canoes, such as they have
at present. All this is probable } nor should the tale
of the German, called Turkil, one of the crew, invali¬
date the account. He was one day missing ; but soon
returned, leaping and singing with all the extravagant
marks of joy a bon vivant could show, on discovering
the inebriating fruit of his country, the grape : Tor-
fgeus even says, that he returned in a state of intoxica¬
tion. To convince his commander, he brought several
bunches, who from that circumstance named the coun¬
try Vinland. It is not to be denied that North Ame¬
rica produces the true vine •, but it is found in far lower
latitudes than our adventurers could reach in the time
employed in their voyage, which was comprehended in
a very small space. There appears no reason to doubt
of the discovery j but as the land was never colonized,
nor any advantage made of it, it may be fairly con¬
jectured, that they reached no farther than the barren
country of Labrador. In short, it is from a much later
period that we must date the real discovery of Ame¬
rica.
Towards the close of the 15th century, Venice and
3
I C A.
Genoa being rivals in commerce, in which the former America,
had greatly the superiority, Christopher Columbus, a^ v——■>
native of Genoa, whose knowledge of the true figure ol^1^
the earth, however attained, was much superior to thejects^
general notions ol the age in which he lived, conceived (jhrist0pher
a project of sailing to the East Indies by directing his Columbus,
course westward. rlhe design was founded upon a
mistake of the geographers of those days, who place
the eastern parts of Asia immensely too far to the east¬
ward ; so that, had they been in the right, the shortest
way would have been to sail directly westward. He
applied first to his own countrymen ; but being rejected
by them, he applied to France, where he was laugh¬
ed at and ridiculed. He next applied to Henry VII.
of England ; but meeting with a disappointment there,
he made an application to Portugal, where he met with
the same mortifying reception. Spain was his next re¬
source ; where, after eight years attendance, he obtain¬
ed, in 1492, a fleet of three ships. The largest, a ship
of no considerable burden, was commanded by Colum¬
bus as admiral, who gave it the name of Santa Maria,
out of respect for the blessed Virgin, whom he honoux*-
ed with singular devotion. Of the second, called the
Pinta, Martin Pinzon was captain, and his brother
Francis pilot. The third, named the Ntgna, was un¬
der the command of Vincent Yanez Pinzon. These
two were, light vessels, hardly superior in burden or
force to large boats. This squadron, if it merits that
name, was victualled for 12 months, and had on board
90 men, mostly sailors, together with a few adventurers
xvho followed the fortune of Columbus, and some gen¬
tlemen of Isabella’s court, whom she appointed to ac¬
company him. Though the expence of the undertak¬
ing was one of the circumstances which chiefly a-
larmed the court of Spain, and retarded so long the
negotiation with Columbus, the sum employed in fit¬
ting out this squadron did not exceed 4CO0I. As Co¬
lumbus was deeply impressed with sentiments of religion,
he would not set out upon an expedition so arduous, and
of which one great ohjtct was to extend the knowledge
of the Christian faith, without imploring publicly the
guidance and protection of Heaven. With this view,
he, together with all the persons under his command,
marched in solemn procession to the monastery of Babi-
da. After confessing their sins, and obtaining absolu¬
tion, they received the holy sacrament from the hands
of the guardian, who joined his prayers to theirs for the
success of an entex-prise which he had so zealously pa¬
tronised. iio
Next morning being Friday the third day of Au-jjjs
gust, in the year 1492, Columbus set sail a little be¬
fore sunrise, in presence of a vast crowd of spectators,
who sent up their supplications to Heaven for the pros¬
perous issue of the voyage, which they wished rather
than expected. Columbus steered directly for the Ca¬
nary islands, and arrived there without any occurrence
that would have deserved notice on any other occasion :
but in a voyage of such expectation and importance,
every circumstance was the object of attention. The
rudder of the Pinta broke loose the day after she left
the harbour, and that accident alarmed the crew, no
less superstitions than unskilful, as a certain omen ol
the unfortunate destiny of the expedition. Even in
the short run to the Canaries, the ships were found to
be so crazy and ill appointed, as to be very improper
A M E
America, for a navigation which was expected to be both long and
' • v1 dangerous. Columbus refitted them, however, to the
best of his power; and having supplied himself with fresh
provisions, he took his departure from Gomera, one of
the most westerly of the Canary islands, on the sixth
day of September.
Here the voyage of discovery may properly be said
to begin ; for Columbus, holding bis course due west,
left immediately the usual track of navigation, and
stretched into unfrequented and unknown seas. The
first day, as it was very calm, he made but little way ;
but on the second, he lost sight of the Canaries ; and
many of the sailors, dejected already and dismayed,
when they contemplated the boldness of the undertak¬
ing, began to beat their breasts, and to shed tears, as
if they were never more to behold land. Columbus
comforted them with assurances of success, and the
prospect of vast wealth, in those opulent regions whi¬
ther he was conducting them. He regulated every
thing by his sole authority ; he superintended the exe¬
cution of every order ; and allowing himself only a few
hours for sleep, he was at all other times upon deck.
As his course lay through seas which had not former¬
ly been visited, the sounding line or instruments for
observation were continually in his hands. After the
example of the Portuguese discoverers, he attended to
the motion of tides and currents : watched the flight of
birds, the appearance of fishes, of sea-weeds, and of eve¬
ry thing that floated on the waves; and entered every
occurrence, with a minute exactness, in the journal
which he kept. As the length of the voyage could
not fail of alarming sailors habituated only to short ex¬
cursions, Columbus endeavoured to conceal from them
the real progress which they made. With this view,
though they ran 18 leagues on the second day after
they left Gomera, he gave out that they bad advanced
only 15 : and he uniformly employed the same artifice
of reckoning short during the whole voyage. By the
14th of September, the fleet was above 200 leagues to
the west of the Canary isles, at a greater distance from
land than any Spaniard had been before that time.
Astonish- There they were struck with an appearance no less
ment occa- astonishing than new. They observed that the magnetic
sioned by needle, in their compasses, did not point exactly to the
thTvaria var'ei^ towards the west; and as they
tion of the l)rocee^efi this variation increased. This appearance,
oompass. which is now familiar, though it still remains one of the
mysteries of nature, into the cause of which the saga¬
city of man hath not been able to penetrate, filled the
companions of Columbus with terror. They were now
in a boundless unknown ocean, far from the usual course
of navigation ; nature itself seemed to be altered, and
the only guide which they had left was about to fail
them. Columbus, with no less quickness than inge¬
nuity, invented a reason for this appearance, which,
though it did not satisfy himself, seemed so plausible
to them, that it dispelled their fears, or silenced their
murmurs.
He still continued to steer due west, nearly in the
same latitude with the Canary islands. In this course
he came within the sphere of the trade wind, which
blows invariably from east to west between the tropics,
and a few degrees beyond them. He advanced before
this steady gale with such uniform rapidity, that it was
E I C A. 35
seldom necessary to shift a sail. When about 400 leagues America,
to the west of the Canaries, he found the sea so cover- 1——-y-—
ed with weeds, that it resembled a meadow of vast ex¬
tent ; and in some places they were so thick as to re¬
tard the motion of the vessels. This strange appear¬
ance occasioned new alarm and disquiet. The sailors
imagined that they were now arrived at the utmost
boundary of the navigable ocean ; that these floating
weeds would obstruct their further progress, and con¬
cealed dangerous rocks, or some large tract of land,
which had sunk, they knew not how, in that place.
Columbus endeavoured to persuade them, that what had
alarmed, ought rather to have encouraged them, and
was to be considered as a sign of approaching land. At
the same time, a brisk gale arose, and carried them for¬
ward. Several birds were seen hovering about the ship,
and directing their flight towards the west. The de¬
sponding crew resumed some degree of spirit, and began
to entertain fresh hopes.
Upon the first of October, they were, according to
the admiral’s reckoning, 770 leagues to the west of the
Canaries ; but lest his men should be intimidated by
the prodigious length of the navigation, he gave out
that they had proceeded only 584 leagues ; and, for¬
tunately for Columbus, neither his own pilot, nor those
of the other ships, had skill sufficient to correct this
error, and discover the deceit. They had now been
about three weeks at sea ; they had proceeded far be¬
yond what former navigators had attempted or deemed
possible : all their prognostics of discovery, drawn from
the flight of birds and other circumstances, had proved
fallacious ; the appearances of land, with which their
own credulity or the artifice of their commander had
from time to time flattered and amused them, had been
altogether illusive, and their prospect of success seemed
now to be as distant as ever. These reflections occur¬
red often to men, who had no other object or occupa¬
tion, than to reason and discourse concerning the in¬
tention and circumstances of their expedition. They
made impression at first upon the ignorant and timid,
and by extending by degrees to such as were better in¬
formed or more resolute, the contagion spread at length
from ship to ship. From secret whispers or mur-
murings they proceeded to open cabals and public com¬
plaints. They taxed their sovereign with inconsiderate
credulity, in paying such regard to the vain,promises
and rash conjectures of an indigent foreigner, as to ha¬
zard the lives of so many of her own subjects, in pro¬
secuting a chimerical scheme. They affirmed that they
had fully performed their duty, by venturing so far in
an unknown and hopeless course, and could incur no
blame, for refusing to follow, any longer, a desperate
adventurer to certain destruction. They contended,
that it was necessary to think of returning to Spain,
while their crazy vessels were still in a condition to keep
the sea, but expressed tbeir fears that the attempt would
prove vain, as the wind which had hitherto been so
favourable to their course, must render it impossible to
sail in the opposite direction. All agreed that Colum¬
bus should be compelled by force to adopt a measure
on which their common safety depended. Some of the
more audacious proposed, as the most expeditious and
certain method for getting rid at once of his remon¬
strances, to throw him into the sea; being persuaded
E 2 thatf
\
O
AMERICA.
jUaertcft. that, upon their return to Spain, the death of an unsuc-
   cessful projector would excite little concern, and be in¬
quired into with no curiosity.
Perilous ' Columbus was fully sensible of his perilous situation.
tnadon'of1" *iat^ observed, with great uneasiness, the fatal ope-
Ksittinbus. ration of ignorance and of fear in producing disaffec¬
tion among his crew ; and saw that it was now ready
to burst out into open mutiny. He retained, however,
perfect presence of mind. He affected to seem igno¬
rant of the machinations. Notwithstanding the agi¬
tation and solicitude of his own mind, he appeared
with a cheerful countenance j like a man satisfied with
the progress which he had made, and confident of suc¬
cess. Sometimes he employed all the arts of insinuation
to soothe his men. Sometimes he endeavoured to work
upon their ambition or avarice, by magnificent descrip¬
tions of the fame and wealth which they were about to
acquire. On other occasions, he assumed atone of au¬
thority, and threatened them with vengeance from their
sovereign, if, by their dastardly behaviour, they should
defeat this noble effort to promote the glory of God,
and to exalt the Spanish name above that of every other
nation. Even with seditious sailors, the words of a man
whom they had been accustomed to reverence were
weighty and persuasive ; and not only restrained them
from those violent excesses which they meditated, but
prevailed with them to accompany their admiral for
some time longer.
As they proceeded, the indications of approaching
land seemed to be more certain, and excited hope in
proportion. The birds began to appear in flocks, mak¬
ing towards the south-west. Columbus, in imitation of
the Portuguese navigators, who had been guided in se¬
veral of their discoveries by the motion of birds, altered
his course from due west towards that quarter whither
they pointed their flight. But after holding on for se-
veral days in this new direction without any better suc-
Tbe crews cess ^ian formerly, having seen no object during 30
jpeadyto days but the sea and sky, the hopes of his companions
Bintuif. subsided faster than they had risen : their fears revived
with additional force ; impatience, rage, and despair,
appeared in every countenance. All sense of subordi¬
nation was lost. The officers, who had hitherto con¬
curred with Columbus in opinion, and supported his au¬
thority, now took part with the private men : they as¬
sembled tumultuously on the deck, expostulated with
their commander, mingled threats with their expostula¬
tions, and required him instantly to tack about and to
return to Europe. Columbus perceived that it would
be of no avail to have recourse to any of his former arts,
which having been tried so often had lost their effect;
and that it was impossible to rekindle any zeal for the
success of the expedition among men in whose breasts
fear had extinguished every generous sentiment. He
saw’ that it was no less vain to think of employing either
gentle or severe measures, to quell a mutiny so general
and so violent. It was necessary, on all these accounts,
to soothe passions which he could no longer command,
and give way to a torrent too impetuous to be check¬
ed. He promised solemnly to his^men that he would
comply with their request, provided they would accom-
pany him, and obey his commands for three days longer j
and if, during that time, land were not discovered, he
would then abandon the enterprise, and direct his course
towards Spain.
Enraged as the sailors were, and impatient to turn America,
their faces again towards their native country, this pro- >—
position did not appear to them unreasonable. Nor did
Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a term
so short. The presages of discovering land were now
so numerous and promising, that he deemed them in¬
fallible. For some days the sounding line reached the
bottom, and the soil which it brought up indicated
land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds
increased ; and were composed not only of sea fowl,
but of such land birds as could not be supposed to fly
far from the shore. The crew of the Pinta observed a
cane floating which seemed to be newly cut, and like¬
wise a piece of timber artificially carved. The sailors
aboard the Nigna took up the branch of a tree w’ith
red berries perfectly fresh. The clouds around the
setting sun assumed a new appearance j the air w’as more
mild and warm ; and, during night, the wind became
unequal and variable. From all these symptoms, Co¬
lumbus was so confident of being near land, that on the
evening of the nth of October, after public prayers for
success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and the ships
to lie by, keeping strict watch, lest they should be dri¬
ven ashore in the night. During this interval of sus¬
pense and expectation, no man shut his eyes, all kept
upon deck, gazing intently towards that quarter, where
they expected to discover the land which had been so
long the object of their wishes.
About two hours before midnight, Columbus stand-
ing on the forecastle, observed a light at a distance, on
and privately pointed it out to Pedro Guttierez, a page ing th«
of the queen’s wardrobe. Guttierez perceived it; andcoasV
calling to Salcedo, comptroller of the fleet, all three
saw it in motion, as if it were carried from place to
place. A little after midnight the joyful sound of
Land! Land! was heard from the Pinta, which kept
always ahead of the'other ships. But having been so
often deceived by fallacious appearances, every man
was now become slow of belief; and waited, in all the
anguish of uncertainty and impatience, for the return
of day. As soon as morning dawned, all doubts and
fears were dispelled. From every ship an island was
seen about two leagues to the north, whose flat and
verdant fields, well stored with wood, and watered with
many rivulets, presented the aspect of a delightful
country. The crew of the Pinta instantly began the
Te Devm, as a hymn of thanksgiving to God; and
were joined by those of the other ships, with tears of
joy and transports of congratulation. This office of
gratitude to heaven was followed by an act of justice
to their commander. They threw themselves at the
feet of Columbus, with feelings of self-condemnation
mingled with reverence. They implored him to parr
don their ignorance, incredulity, and insolence, which
had created him so much unnecessary disquiet, and had
so often obstructed the prosecution of his well-concerted
plan j and passing, in the warmth of their admiration,
from one extreme to another, they now pronounced the
man whom they had so lately reviled and threatened,
to be a person inspired by Heaven with sagacity and
fortitude more than human, in order to accomplish a
design so far beyond the ideas and conceptions of all
former ages.
As soon as the sun arose, all the boats were man*
ned and armed. They rowed towards the island with
their
2
AMERICA.
America, their colours clisplayed, with warlike music, and other
y—' martial pomp. As they approached the coast, they saw
JI5 it covered with a multitude of people, whom the no-
They land ve](-y 0f Spectacle had drawn together, whose atti-
the islands tudes and gestures expressed wonder and astonishment
wf the new at the strange objects which presented themselves to
world. their view. Columbus was the first European who set
foot in the new world which he had discovered. He
landed in a rich dress, and with a naked sword in his
hand. His men followed ; and, kneeling down, they all
kissed the ground which they had so long desired to see.
They next erected a crucifix ; and, prostrating them¬
selves before it, returned thanks to God for conducting
their voyage to such a happy issue.
The above was one of the Bahama islands j to which
he gave the name of San Salvador, and took possession
of it in the name of their Catholic majesties. In this
first voyage he discovered several other of the Lucayo
or Bahama islands, with those of Cuba and Hispaniola.
The natives considered the Spaniards as divinities, and
the discharge of the artillery as their thunder : they fell
prostrate at the sound. The women, however, offered
their favours, and courted the embraces of their new
guests as men. Their husbands were not jealous of
them j and in the arms of these wantons the compa¬
nions of Columbus are said to have caught that malady
which directs its poison to the springs of life. In a
second voyage many new islands were discovered. In
1X6 a third, he attained the great object of his ambition,
The conli- by discovering the continent of America, near the
®ent after- mouth of the river Oroonoko, on the first day of An-
jorered*8* I49^* success produced a crowd of adventu¬
rers from all nations ; but the year before this, the
northern continent had been discovered by Sebastian
Cabot in the service of Henry VII. of England.
Notwithstanding the many settlements of the Euro-
peans in this continent, some part of America remains
.division of still unknown. The northern continent contains the
America. British colonies of Hudson’s Bay, Canada, and Nova
Scotia, and the twenty-one united states of the American
republic, extending from the river St Lawrence to the
gulf of Mexico. It contains also the Spanish territories
of New Mexico, California, and Mexico. Besides these,
there are immense regions to the west and to the
north, where the boundaries have never yet been as¬
certained. In such as are in any degree known,
dwell the Esquimaux, the Algonquins, the Hurons,
the Iroquois, the Cherokees, the Ghickasaws, and
many other tribes of Indians. In the southern conti¬
nent lie the Spanish provinces of Terra Firma, Guiana,
Peru, Paraguay, and Chili; together with that of Bra>-
sil, belonging to the Portuguese j and the country of
Surinam, belonging to the Dutch. Vast tracts, how¬
ever, in the inland parts, are unknown, being compref
bended under the general name of Ama%onia. A large
district also, said to be the residence of a gigantic race
of men, lies on the east side of the continent, between
the straits of Magellan and the province of Paraguay*
ll8 See Patagonia.
produe- This vast country produces most of the metals, mi-
nerals, plants, fruits, trees, and woods, to be met with
in the other parts of the world, and many of them in
greater quantities and high perfection. The gold and
silver of America have supplied Europe with such im¬
mense quantities of those valuable metals, that they are
37
become vastly more common j so that the gold and America,
silver of Europe now bear little proportion to the y——J
high price set upon them before the discovery of Ame¬
rica.
It also produces diamonds, pearls, emeralds, ame¬
thysts, and other valuable stones, which, by being
brought into Europe, have contributed likewise to
lower their value. To these, which are chiefly the
production of Spanish America, may be added a great
number of other commodities, which, though of less
price, are of much greater use; and many of them
make the ornament and wealth of the British empire
in this part of the world. Of these are the plentiful
supplies of cochineal, indigo, anatto, logwood, brazil,
fustic, pimento, lignum vitae, rice, ginger, cacao or the
chocolate nut, sugar, cotton, tabacco, banillas, red-wood,
the balsams of Tolu, Peru, and Chili, that valuable ar¬
ticle in medicine the Jesuits bark, mechoacan, sassafras,
sarsaparilla, cassia, tamarinds, hides, furs, ambergris, and
a great variety of woods, roots, and plants ; to which
before the discovery of America, we were either entire
strangers, or forced to buy at an extravagant rate from
Asia and Africa, through the hands of the Venetians
and Genoese, who then engrossed the trade of the east¬
ern world.
On this continent there grows also a variety of ex¬
cellent fruits $ as pine-apples, pomegranates, citrons, le¬
mons, oranges, malicatons, cherries, pears, apples, figs,
grapes ; great numbers of culinary, medicinal, and other
herbs, roots, and plants $ with many exotic productions,
which are nourished in as great perfection as in their
native soil. ^
Although the Indians still live in the quiet possession The differ*—
of many large tracts, America, so far as known, was ent posse«-
till lately divided into colonies, by three European sors.°^
nations, the Spaniards, English, and Portuguese.n5enca'*
The Spaniards, as they first discovered it,. had the
the largest and richest portion, extending from New
Mexico and Louisiana in Nortfi America, to the
straits of Magellan in the South sea, excepting the
large province of Brasil, which belongs to Portugal ■>
for though the French and Dutch have some forts in
Surinam and Guiana, they scarcely deserve to be con¬
sidered as proprietors of any part of the southern conti¬
nent.
Next to Spain, the most considerable proprietor of
America was Great Britain, who derived her claim to
North America from the first discovery of that continent
by Sebastian Cabot in the name of Henry VII. anno
1497, about six years after the discovery of South Ame¬
rica by Columbus in the name of the king of Spain.
This country was in general called a
name which is now appropriated solely to an island upon
its coast. It was a long time before we made an at¬
tempt to settle in this country. Sir Walter Kaleigh,
an uncommon genius and a brave commander, first
showed the way, by planting a colony in the southern
part, which he called Virginia, in honour of his mis¬
tress Queen Elizabeth.
The French indeed, from this period until the con¬
clusion of the war before last, laid claim to, and ac¬
tually possessed, Canada and Louisiana^ comprehending
all that extensive inland country reaching from Hud¬
son’s Bay on the north, to Mexico and the gulf of
the same name • on the south* But in that war,, to
wbkk.,
A M E E I C A.
38
United which their perfidy and ambition gave rise, they were
States, not only driven from Canada and its dependencies, but
w v- ■ obliged to relinquish all that part of Louisiana lying on
120 the east side of the Mississippi, as related under the Hi-
Vast ex- story of Britain. And thus our colonies were pre-
tent °f the served, secured, and extended so far, as to render it dif-
ficult to ascertain the precise bounds ot our empire in
fore the North America. lo the northward we might have
late rero- extended our claims quite to the pole itself, nor did any
lutioa. nation seem inclined to dispute the property of this
northernmost country with us. From that extremity
we had a territory extending southward to Cape Flo¬
rida in the gulf of Mexico, N. Lat. 250, and conse¬
quently near 4000 miles long in a direct line. And to
the westward our boundaries reached to nations un¬
known even to the Indians of Canada.
Of the revolution that has since taken place, by
which a great part of those territories has been sepa¬
rated from the British empire, the history follows in
the next article.
Rise of the America, United States of. Of the rise and esta-
American blishment of this republic, which has given a new face
republic. to the western world, a succinct and impartial narrative
shall in this article be attempted j in which, however,
we cannot hope entirely to avoid errors, as they are
perhaps unavoidable. The accounts from which the
historian must derive his information are not yet clear¬
ed from the mistakes of prejudice and the fabrications
of party j when they differ, their comparative authenti¬
city is with difficulty ascertained : and they want above
all that softening which they can receive from time
alone.
The beginning of every political establishment is con¬
temptible. Some few banditti taking refuge among
the marshes on the banks of the Tiber, laid the foun¬
dation of the Roman empire. The turbulence of some
North Americans, and the blunders of some British
statesmen, gave birth to this new republic, which at a
future period, it has been fancied, may perhaps surpass
123 even the splendour of Rome.
State and The state of the British colonies at the conclusion of
character the war in 1763, was such as attracted the attention of
tishcofo^*' t^ie in Europe. Their flourishing condi-
njes at the ^on at ^iat Per^0^ was remarkable and striking: their
end of the trade had prospered in the midst of all the difficulties
war 1753. and distresses of a war in which they were so nearly
and so immediately concerned. Their population con¬
tinued on the increase, notwithstanding the ravages and
depredations that had been so fiercely carried on by the
French, and the native Indians in their alliance. They
abounded with spirited and active individuals of all de¬
nominations. They were flushed with the uncommon
prosperity that had attended them in their commercial
affairs and military transactions. Hence they were rea¬
dy for all kinds of undertakings, and saw -no limits to
their hopes and expectations.
As they entertained the highest opinion of their value
and importance, and the immense benefit that Britain
derived from its connexion with them, their notions
were adequately high in their own favour. They deem¬
ed themselves, not without reason, entitled to every
kindness and indulgence which the mother-country
could bestow.
Although their pretensions did not amount to a per-
i
feet equality of advantages and privileges in matters United
of commerce, yet in those of government they thought States,
themselves fully competent to the task of conducting
their domestic concerns with little or no interference
from abroad. Though willing to admit the supremacy
of Great Britain, they viewed it with a suspicious eye,
and with a marked desire and intent speedily to give it
limitations.
Their improvements in all the necessary and useful
arts did honour to their industry and ingenuity. Though
they did not live in the luxury of Europe, they had all
the solid and substantial enjoyments of life, and were
not unacquainted with many of its elegancies and re¬
finements.
A circumstance much to their praise is, that not¬
withstanding their peculiar addiction to those occupa¬
tions of which lucre is the sole object, they were duly
attentive to cultivate the field of learning ; and they
have ever since their first foundation been particularly
careful to provide for the education of their rising pro-
geny- .
Their vast augmentation of internal trade and exter¬
nal commerce, was not merely owing to their position
and facility of communication with other parts j it
arose also from their natural turn and temper, full of
schemes and projects, ever aiming at new discoveries,
and continually employed in the search of means of im¬
proving their condition.
Their ambition carried them into every quarter
from whence profit could be derived. There was
scarcely any port of the American hemisphere to
which they had not extended their navigation. They
were continually exploring new sources of trade, and
were found in every spot where business could be trans¬
acted.
To this extensive and incessant application to com¬
merce, they added an equal vigilance in the administra¬
tion of their affairs at home. Whatever could conduce
to the amelioration of the soil they possessed, to the pro¬
gress of agriculture, or to the improvement of their do¬
mestic circumstances, was attended to with so much la¬
bour and care, that it may be strictly said, that Nature
had given them nothing of which they did not make the
most.
In the midst of this solicitude and toil in matters of
business, the affairs of government were conducted with
a steadiness, prudence, and lenity, seldom experienced,
and never exceeded, in the best regulated countries of
Europe.
Such was the situation of the British colonies in ge¬
neral throughout North America, and of the New
England provinces in particular, when the pacifica¬
tion above mentioned opened one of the most remark¬
able scenes that ever commanded the attention of the
world.
The French, who have for many ages been the pro- intrigue*
fessed and natural enemies of Britain, had long viewed, the Frene
with equal envy and apprehension, the flourishing state
of those colonies she had founded in North America.
No doubt at present subsists, that they began immedi¬
ately after the peace ot Paris to carry into execution
the scheme they had formed for the separation of the
British colonies from the mother country.
Conscious that, whilst a good understanding lasted
between them, the superiority must henceforth remain
for
United
States.
124
Taxes laid
on goods
A M E
for ever on the side of Britain, it was only by their dis¬
union that France could hope to regain the station and
consequence she had formerly possessed in Europe.
The first steps she took were to employ her secret
emissaries in spreading dissatisfaction among the British
colonists ; and the effects produced by her machina¬
tions were precisely such as they had intended and ex¬
pected. The disposition of the inhabitants of North
America began gradually to alter from that warmth
of attachment to the mother-country which had so pe¬
culiarly characterized them. They began to view her
rather in the light of a sovereign than that of a pa¬
rent •, and to examine, with a scrupulous nicety, the
nature of those ties that rendered them parts of her em-
pire.
In March 1764, a bill was passed, by which heavy
duties were laid on goods imported by the colonists
into°the co-from suc‘1 West India islands as did not belong to Great
lonies, and Britain ; at the same time that these duties were to be
other ob- paid into the exchequer in specie : and in the same ses-
noxiousactssion, another bill was framed to restrain the curcency
framed; 0p paper money ;n tlie colonies themselves. These acts
125 coming so close upon each other, threw the whole con-
tvhich ex- tinent into the utmost ferment. Vehement remonstrttn-
Amerieans^68 were ma^e to t^ie ministry, and every argument
made use of that reason or ingenuity could suggest; but
to no purpose. Their reasoning, hovyever, convinced
a great number of people at home ; and thus the Ame¬
rican cause came to be considered as the cause of li¬
berty.
The Americans, finding all argumentation vain, at
last united in an agreement to import no more of the
manufactures of Great Britain, but to encourage to
the utmost of their power every thing of that kind
among themselves. Thus the British manufacturers abo
became a party against ministry, and did not fail to ex¬
press their resentment in the strongest terms ; but the
ministry were not to be so easily daunted, and there-
126 fore proceeded to the last step of their intended plan,
The stamp which was to lay on stamp duties throughout the con-
sct framed tinent. 1 revious to this, indeed, several regulations
were passed in favour of the commerce of the colonies ;
hut they had now imbibed such unfavourable sentiments
of the British ministry, that they paid very little regard
to any thing pretended to he done in their favour 5 or
if these acts made any favourable impression, it was
quickly obliterated by the news of the stamp act. The
reason given for this act so exceedingly obnoxious was,
that a sum might be raised sufficient for the defence of
the colonies against a foreign enemy ; hut this pretence
was so far from giving any satisfaction to the Ameri¬
cans, that it excited their indignation to the utmost de¬
gree. J hey not only asserted that they were abundant¬
ly able to defend themselves against any foreign enemy,
hut denied that the British parliament had any rio-ht to
tax them at all.
It would be superfluous to enter into any arguments
used by the contending parties on this important occa¬
sion. It was evident that the matter was not to be
decided by argument but by force of arms; and the
British ministry, too confident of the authority and
powei of this country, determined to carry 011 matters
with a high hand, to terrify the colonists" into an im¬
plicit subjection, or, if that would not do, to compel
them to it by force. The stamp act, after a violent
39
United
States.
RICA.
opposition in parliament, was passed, and its reception
in America was such as might have been expected.
The news, and the act itself, first arrived at Boston,
where the hells were muffled and rung a funeral peal. 1?7
The act was first hawked about the streets, with
Death’s head affixed to it, and styled the “ Folly of Versal in-
England, and the Ruin of America j” and afterwards dignation
publicly burnt by the enraged populace: The stamps™ Ame‘ica
themselves were seized and destroyed, unless brought
by men of war, or kept in fortified places those who
were to receive the stamp duties were compelled to re¬
sign their offices ; and such of the Americans as sided
with government on this occasion had their houses
plundered and burnt.
Though these outrages were committed by the lowest
of the multitude, they were first connived at by those of
superior rank, and the principles on which they were
founded afterwards openly patronised by them ; and the
doctrine became general, and openly avowed, that Bri¬
tain had no right whatever to tax the colonies without
their own consent.
It was now found absolutely necessary either to yield
to the Americans, by repealing the obnoxious statutes,
Pr to enforce them by arms. The ferment had diffused
itself universally throughout the colonies. Virginia first,
and after that all the rest of the provinces, declared
against the right of Britain to lay on taxes in America j
and that every attempt to vest others with this power
besides the king, or the governor of the province and
his general assembly, was illegal, unconstitutional, and
unjust. Non-importation agreements were everywhere
entered into} and it was even resolved to prevent the
sale of any more British goods after the present year.
American manufactures, though dearer, as well as in¬
ferior in quality to the British, were universally prefer¬
red. An association was entered into against eating of
lamb, in order to promote the growth of wool: and the
ladies with cheerfulness agreed to renounce the use of
every species of ornament manufactured in Britain. Such
a general and alarming confederacy determined the mi¬
nistry to repeal some of the most obnoxious statutes 5
and to this they were the more inclined by a petition
from the first American congress, held at New York in
the beginning of October 1765.
The stamp act was therefore repealed, to the univer-j, .
sal joy of the Americans, and indeed to the general sa- Cl>ea t '
tisfaction of the English, whose manufactures had be¬
gun to suffer very severely in consequence of the Ame¬
rican association against them. The disputes on the
subject without doors, however, were by no means si¬
lenced, hut each party continued to argue the case as
violently as ever. rI he celebrated Dr Benjamin Frank¬
lin was on this occasion examined before the house of
commons; and his opinion was in substance as fol¬
lows :
“ I hat the tax in question was impracticable and
ruinous. The very attempt had so far alienated the
affection of the colonies, that they behaved in a less]jn on thii
friendly manner towards the natives of England than subject,
before ; considering the whole nation as conspiring
against their liberty, and the parliament as willing ra¬
ther to oppress than to support and assist them. Ame¬
rica, in fact, did not stand in any need of British ma¬
nufactures, having already begun to construct such as
might be deemed absolutely necessary, and that with
suck
A M E
such success, as left no doubt of their arriving in a short
time at perfection. The elegancies of dress had already
been renounced for manufactures of the American kind,
though much inferior j and the bulk of the people, con-
-sisting of farmers, were such as could in no way be af¬
fected by the want of British commodities, as haying
every necessary within themselves. Materials of all
kinds were to be had in plenty : the wood was fine j flax
grew in great abundance, and iron was everywhere to
be met with.”
The Doctor also insisted, “ That the Americans had
been greatly misrepresented $ that they had been tra¬
duced as void of gratitude and affection to the parent
state j than which nothing could be more contrary to
truth. In the war of 1755 they had at their own ex¬
pence, raised ^at army of 25,000 men •, and in that of
1739 they assisted the British expeditions against South
America with several thousand men, and had made
many brave exertions against the French in North
America. It was said, that the war of 1755 had been
undertaken in defence of the colonies *, but the truth
was, that it originated from a contest about the limits
between Canada and Nova Scotia, and in defence of
the English rights to trade on the Ohio. The Ame¬
ricans, however, would still continue to act with their
usual fidelity ; and, were any war to break out in which
they had no concern, would show themselves as ready
as ever to assist the parent state to the utmost of their
power, and would never fail to manifest their readi¬
ness in contributing to the emergencies of government,
when called to do so in a regular and constitutional
manner.”
The ministry were conscious, that in repealing this
obnoxious act, they yielded to the Americans j and
therefore, to support, as they thought, the dignity of
Great Britain, it was judged proper to publish a decla¬
ratory bill, setting forth the authority of the mother-
country over her colonies, and her power to bind them
by laws and statutes in all cases whatever. This much
diminished the joy with which the repeal of the stamp
act was received in America. It was considered as a
proper reason to enforce any claims equally prejudicial
with the stamp act, which might hereafter be set up j
a spirit of jealousy pervaded the whole continent, and a
strong party was formed, watchful on every occasion to
guard against the supposed encroachments of the British
power.
It was not long before an occasion offered, in which
the Americans manifested a spirit of absolute indepen¬
dency j and that, instead of being bound by the Bri-
beys an actj-jsjj legislature in all cases, they would not be control-
went113" ^ ^ it in the most trivial affairs. The Rockingham
ministry had passed an act, providing the troops sta¬
tioned in different parts of the colonies with such ac¬
commodations as were necessary for them. The assem¬
bly of New York, however, took upon them to alter
the mode of execution prescribed by the act of parlia¬
ment, and to substitute one of their own. This gave
very great offence to the new ministry, and rendered
them, though composed of those who had been active
against the stamp bill, less favourable to the colonies
than in all probability they would have otherwise been.
An unlucky circumstance at the same time occurred,
which threw every thing once more into confusion.
One of the new ministry, Mr Charles Townshend, ha-
T30
Declara¬
tory bill
gires of¬
fence in
America,
131
Assembly
of New
York diso-
RICA.
ving declared that he could find a way of taxing the United
Americans without giving them offence, was called up- Staten.
on to propose his plan. This was by imposing a duty ^ ^
upon tea, paper, painters colours, and glass imported q’own.
into America. The undutiful behaviour of the Newshcnd’s
York assembly, and that of Boston, which had pro-plan to tax
ceeded in a similar manner, caused this bill to meet with AmerK'“'
less opposition than otherwise it might have done. As
a punishment to the refractory assemblies, the legisla¬
tive power was taken from that ot New Aork, until it
should fully comply with the terms of the act. That
of Boston at last submitted with reluctance. The bill
for the new taxes was quickly passed, and sent to Ame¬
rica in 1768. 133
A ferment much greater than that occasioned by the is recci-rcd
stamp act now took place throughout the continent.
The populace renewed their outrages, and those of su* jndi<l’na-
perior station entered into regular combinations against tioiwha*
it. Circular letters were sent from Massachusets co-even the
lony to all the rest, setting forth the injustice and im-staml) act*
propriety of the behaviour of the British legislature.
Meetings were held in all the principal towns, in which
it was proposed to lessen the consumption of foreign
manufactures, by giving proper encouragement to their
own. Continual disputes ensued betwixt the gover-Quarrel be.
nors and general assemblies of their provinces, which tween the
were much heightened by a letter to Lord Shelburne
from Governor Bamand of Massachusets Bay, containing sels Bay
complaints of the people he governed. The assembly, and their
exasperated to the highest degree, charged their gover-goverim.
nor with having misrepresented them to the court of
Britain, required him to produce copies of the letters
he had sent; and, on his refusal, wrote letters to the
English ministry, accusing him of misrepresentation and
partiality, complaining at the same time most grievous¬
ly of the proceedings of parliament, as utterly subver¬
sive of the liberties of America, and the rights of Bri¬
tish subjects.
The governor, at a loss how to defend himself, pro¬
rogued the assembly 5 and, in his speech on the occa¬
sion, gave a loose to his resentment, accusing the mem¬
bers of ambitious designs, incompatible with those of
dutiful and loyal subjects. To counteract the circular
letter of the province of Massachusets Bay, Lord Hills¬
borough, secretary for the American department, sent
another to the governors of the different colonies, repro¬
bating the other as full of misrepresentation, and tend¬
ing to excite a rebellion against the authority of the
parent state.
Matters now hastened to a crisis. The governor had
been ordered to proceed with vigour, and by no means
to show any disposition to yield to the people as for-
merly. In particular, they were required to rescind He require
that resolution by which they had written the circular the assem-
letter above mentioned; and, in case of a refusal, itbly^0^®'.
was told them that they would be dissolved. As this^”^^ j
letter had been framed by the resolutions of a former letter;
house, they desired, after a week’s consultation, that
a recess might be granted to consult with their consti¬
tuents ; but this being refused, they came to a deter- 136
mination, 92 against 17, to adhere to the resolution vv^*chth#|
which produced the circular letter. At the same timeielu,e‘
a letter was sent to Lord Hillsborough, and a message
to the governor, in justification of their proceedings.
In both they expressed themselves with such freedom
Tmted
Slate*.
137
Accuse
theft go¬
vernor,
and peti¬
tion for his
removal.
138
A tumult
at Boston.
I39
The assem¬
bly dissolv-
«d.
14©
The distur¬
bances still
increase.
14I
Some
troops or¬
dered to
Boston.
mi
The people
form an as¬
sembly cal¬
led a Con¬
vention ;
A M E
as was by no means calculated to accord with the sen¬
timents of those in power. They insisted that they had
a right to communicate their sentiments to their fellow-
subjects upon matters of such importance j complained
of the requisition to rescind the circular letter as uncon¬
stitutional and unjust; and particularly insisted, that
they were represented as harbouring seditious designs,
when they were doing nothing but what was lawful and
right. At the same time, they condemned the late acts
of parliament as highly oppressive, and subversive of li¬
berty. The whole was concluded by a list of accusa¬
tions against their governor, representing him as unfit to
continue in his station, and petitioning the king for his
removal from it.
These proceedings were followed by a violent tumult
at Boston. A vessel belonging to a capital trader had
been seized in consequence of his having neglected some
of the new regulations; and being taken under the pro¬
tection of a man of war at that time lying in the har¬
bour, the populace attacked the houses of the commis¬
sioners of excise, broke their windows, destroyed the
collector’s boats, and obliged the customhouse officers
to take refuge in Castle William, situated at the en¬
trance of the harbour.
The governor now took the last step in his power to
put a stop to the violent proceedings of this assembly,
by dissolving it entirely; but this was of little moment.
Their behaviour had been highly approved by the other
colonies, who had written letters to them expressive of
their approbation. After the dissolution of the assem¬
bly, frequent meetings of the people were held in Bos¬
ton, which ended in a remonstrance to the governor,
to the same purpose as some of the former ; but con¬
cluding with an extraordinary request, that he would
take upon him to order the king’s ships out of the har¬
bour.
While the disposition of the Bostonians was thus go¬
ing on from bad to worse, news arrived that the agent
for the colony had not been allowed to deliver their
petition to the king; it having been objected, that the
assembly without the governor was not sufficient autho¬
rity. This did not contribute to allay the ferment; and
it was further augmented by the news that a number of
troops had been ordered to repair to Boston, to keep the
inhabitants in awe.
A dreadful alarm now took place. The people call¬
ed on the governor to convene a general assembly, in
order to remove the fears of the military; who they
said were to be assembled to overthrow their liberties,
and force obedience to laws to which they were entire¬
ly averse. The governor replied that it was no longer
in his power to call an assembly ; having, in his last
instructions from England, been required to wait the
king’s orders, the matter being then under considera¬
tion at home. Being thus refused, the people took
upon themselves the formation of an assembly, which
they called a Convention. The proceedings and reso¬
lutions of this were conformable to their former be¬
haviour ; but now they went a step farther, and, un¬
der pretence of an approaching rupture with France,
ordered the inhabitants to put themselves in a posture
of defence against any sudden attack of an enemy; and
circular letters were directed to all the towns in the
province, acquainting them with the resolution that
had been taken in the capital, and exhorting them to
Vol. II. Part I.
M3
RICA.
proceed in the same manner. The town of Hatfield
alone refused its concurrence ; but this served only to
expose them to the censure and contempt of the rest.
The convention, however, thought proper to assure
the governor of their pacific intentions, and renewed
their request that an assembly might be called ; but
being refused any audience, and threatened with be¬
ing treated as rebels, they at last thought proper to which dis-
dissolve of themselves, and sent over to Britain a cir- solves, and
cumstantial account of their proceedings, with the rea*^g
son of their having assembled in the manner already itsovv,ncon.
mentioned. duct.
The expected troops arrived on the very day on
which the convention broke up, and had some houses
in the town fitted up for their reception. Their ar¬
rival had a considerable influence on the people, and
for some time seemed to put a stop to the disturbances;
but the seeds of discord had now taken such deep root, ^
that it was impossible to quench the flame. The late Both bouse*
outrageous behaviour in Boston had given the greatest of parlia-
offence in England ; and, notwithstanding all the ef-ment ad-
forts of opposition, an address from both houses of par-^ess t*i<:
liament was presented to the king; in which the au- America,
dacious behaviour of the colony of Massachusets Bay
was set forth in the most ample manner, and the most
vigorous measures recommended for reducing them to
obedience. The Americans, however, continued sted-
fast in the ideas they had adopted. Though the troops
had for some time quieted the disturbances, yet the
calm continued no longer than they appeared respect¬
able on account of their number; but as soon as this
was diminished by the departure of a large detachment,
the remainder were treated with contempt, and it was
even resolved to expel them altogether. The country
people took up arms for this purpose, and were to have
assisted their friends in Boston ; but before the plot
could be put in execution, an event happened which put
an end to every idea of reconciliation betwixt the con¬
tending parties.
On the 5th of March 1770, a scuffle happened be-Somepeo-
tween some soldiers and a party of the town’s people.
The inhabitants poured in from all quarters to the as*^ferg^n a*
sistance of their fellow-citizens ; a violent tumult en-mobat
sued, during which the military fired among the mob, Boston,
killing and wounding several of them. The whole
province now rose in arms, and the soldiers were obli¬
ged to retire to Castle William to prevent their being
cut in pieces. In other respects, the determinations of
the Americans continued, if possible, more firm than
ever, until at last government, determined to act with
vigour, and at the same time to behave with as much
condescension as possible, repealed all the duties late- ” 146
ly laid on, that of tea alone excepted. This was leftAU th* du
on purpose to maintain the dignity of the crown of f,es
Britain ; and it was thought that it could not be pro-*”® ta1^en°n
ductive of any discontent in America, as being an af-0jf;
fair of very little moment, the produce of which was
not expected to exceed 16,000!. The opposition,
however, were strenuous in their endeavours to get this
tax likewise abrogated; insisting, that the Americans
would consider it only as an inlet to others ; and that
the repeal of all the rest, without this, would answer 147
no great purpose. The event showed that their opi-which is a*
nion was well founded. The Americans, opposed the v‘0*ently
tea tax with the same violence as they had done all theOI,posed as
F rest;anthere,t'
42
A M E R
United
States.
148
Assembly of
formally
denies the
British
right of
taxation.
149
Gov. Hut-
stry disco¬
vered.
rest: and'at last, on the news that salaries had been set¬
tled on the justices cf the superior court of Boston, the
governor was addressed on the subject; the measure was
condemned in the strongest terms; and a committee,
selected out of the several districts of the colony, ap¬
pointed to inquire into it.
The new assembly proceeded in the most formal man-
Massachu- ner to disavow the supremacy of the British legislature ;
sets Bay accused the parliament of Britain of having violated
the natural rights of the Americans in a number oi
instances. Copies of the transactions of this assembly
were transmitted to every town in Massachusets, ex¬
horting the inhabitants to rouse themselves, and exert
every nerve in opposition to the iron hand of oppres¬
sion, which was daily tearing the choicest fruits from
the fair tree of liberty. The disturbances were also
tenTtc^Bri" 8rea^y heightened by an accidental discovery that Mr
tish mini- Hutchison, governor of Massachusets Bay, had writ¬
ten several confidential letters to people in power in
England, complaining of the behaviour of the pro¬
vince, recommending vigorous measures against them,
and, among other things, asserting, that “ there must
be an abridgement of what is called British liberty.”
Letters of this kind had somehow or other fallen in¬
to the hands of the agent for the colony at London.
They were immediately transmitted to Boston, where
the assembly was sitting, by whom they were laid be¬
fore the governor, who was thus reduced to a very
mortifying situation. Losing every idea of respect or
friendship for him as their governor, they instantly de¬
spatched a petition to the king, requesting him to re¬
move the governor and deputy governor from their
places j but to this they not only received no favourable
him refused1 answer> hut the petition itself was declared groundless
and scandalous.
Matters were now ripe for the utmost extremities
on the part of the Americans j and they were bi’ought
on in the following manner: Though the ‘‘‘colonists
had entered into a non-importation agreement against
tea as well as all other commodities from Britain, it
had nevertheless found its way into America, though
in smaller quantities than before. This was sensibly
felt by the East India Company, who had now agreed
to pay a large sum annually to government; in re¬
compense for which compliance, and to make up their
losses in other respects, they were empowered to export
their tea free from any duty payable in Britain •, and
in consequence of this permission, several ships freight¬
ed with the commodity were sent to North America,
and proper agents appointed for disposing of it. The
Americans now perceiving that the tax was thus likely
to be enforced whether they would or not, determined
to take every possible method to prevent the tea from
being landed, as well knowing that it would be im¬
possible to hinder the sale, should the commodity once
be brought on shore. For this purpose the people as¬
sembled in great numbers, forcing those to whom the
tea was consigned to resign their offices, and to promise
solemnly never to resume them ; and committees were
appointed to examine the accounts of merchants, and
make public tests, declaring such as would not take
them enemies to their country. Nor was this beha¬
viour confined to the colony of Massachusets Bay $
the rest of the provinces entered into the contest wfith
IS°.
The peti-
151
Tea de¬
stroyed at
Boston,
I C A.
the same warmth, and manifested the same resolution United
to oppose the mother-country. States.
In the midst of this confusion three ships laden with * ~~
tea arrived at Boston j but so much were the captains
alarmed at the disposition which seemed to prevail
among the people, that they offered, providing they
could obtain the proper discharges from the tea con¬
signees, customhouse, and governor, to return to Bri¬
tain without landing their cargoes. The parties con¬
cerned, however, though they durst not order the tea
to be landed, refused to grant the discharges required.
The ships, therefore, would have been obliged to re¬
main in the harbour j but the people, apprehensive that
if they remained there the tea would be landed in small
quantities, and disposed of in spite of every endeavour
to prevent it, resolved to destroy it at once. This reso¬
lution was executed with equal speed and secrecy. The
very evening after the above-mentioned discharges had
been refused, a number of people, dressed like Mohawk
Indians, boarded the ships, and threw into the sea their
whole cargoes, consisting of 342 chests of tea j after
which they retired without making any further di¬
sturbance, or doing any more damage. No tea was
destroyed in other places, though the same spirit W’as j-2
everywhere manifested. At Philadelphia the pilots were and refused
enjoined not to conduct the vessels up the river j and at ^d,I1itlanc®
New York, though the governor caused some tea to be^ot^e,:
landed under the protection of a man of war, he was1
obliged to deliver it up to the custody of the people, to
prevent its being sold.
The destruction of the tea at Boston, which happen¬
ed in November 1773, was the immediate prelude to
the disasters attending civil discord. Government find¬
ing themselves everywhere insulted and despised, resol¬
ved to enforce their authority by all possible means;
and as Boston had been the principal scene of the riots
and outrages, it was determined to punish that city
in an exemplary manner. Parliament was acquaint¬
ed by a message from his majesty with the undutiful
behaviour of the city of Boston, as well as of all the
colonies, recommending at the same time the most vi¬
gorous and spirited exertions to reduce them to obe¬
dience. The parliament in its address promised a ready
compliance ; and indeed the Americans, by their out¬
rageous behaviour, had now lost many of their parti¬
sans. It was proposed to lay a fine on the town of Bo-
ston equal to the price of the tea which had been de-0f Boston
stroyed, and to shut up its port by armed vessels until resolved on
the refractory spirit of the inhabitants should be sub¬
dued ; which it was thought must quickly yield, as a
total stop would thus be put to their trade. The bill Arguments
was strongly opposed on the same grounds that the a.nd Pr¬
ofiler had been ; and it ivas predicted, that instead oftio.ns a7
having any tendency to reconcile or subdue the Arne-?amSl ^
ricans, it would infallibly exasperate them beyond any
possibility of reconciliation. The petitions against it,
presented by the colony’s agent, pointed out the same
consequence in the strongest terms, and in the most po¬
sitive manner declared that the Americans never would
submit to it; but such was the infatuation attending
every rank and degree of men, that it never was ima¬
gined the Americans would dare to resist the parent
state openly, hut would in the end submit implicitly to
her commands. In this confidence a third bill was
proposed
A M E
United proposed for the impartial administration of justice on
States, such persons as might be employed in the suppression of
; riots and tumults in the province of Massachusets Bay.
and for5 the ac*' it was provided, that should any persons
partial ad- acting in that capacity be indicted for murder, and
ministra- not able to obtain a fair trial in the province, they
might be sent by the governor to England, or to some
other colony, if necessary, to be tried for the supposed
tion of ju
slice.
156
Quebec
Bill.
*57
These three bills having passed so easily, the mini¬
stry proposed a fourth, relative to the government of
Canada j which, it was said, had not yet been settled
on any proper plan. By this bill the extent of that
province was greatly enlarged j its affairs were put un¬
der the direction of a council into which Roman Catho¬
lics were to be admitted ; the Roman Catholic clergy
were secured in their possessions and the usual per¬
quisites from those of their own profession. The coun¬
cil above mentioned were to be appointed by the
crown, to be removable at its pleasure ; and to be
invested with every legislative power excepting that of
taxation.
These acts No sooner were these laws made known in America,
exasperate tlJan they cemented the union of the colonies almost
cans.men” bey°nd any possibility of dissolving it. The assembly
of Massachusets Bay had passed a vote against the
judges accepting salaries from the crown, and put
the question, Whether they would accept them as usual
from the general assembly ? Four answered in the affir¬
mative j but Peter Oliver the chief justice refused.
A petition against him, and an accusation, were brought
before the governor; but the latter refused the accu¬
sation, and declined to interfere in the matter : but as
they still insisted for what they called justice against
Mr Oliver, the governor thought proper to put an end
to the matter by dissolving the assembly.
Resent- *b‘s s‘tliation of affairs a new alarm was occa-
ment occa- sioned by the news of the port bill. This had been
sioned by totally unexpected, and was received with the most
extravagant expressions of displeasure among the po¬
pulace 3 and while these continued, the new governor,
General Gage, arrived from England. He had been
chosen to this office on account of his being well ac¬
quainted in America, and generally agreeable to the
people ; but human wisdom could not now point out
a method by which the flame could be allayed. The
first act of his office as governor was to remove the as¬
sembly to Salem, a town 17 miles distant, in conse¬
quence of the late act. When this was intimated to
the assembly, they replied, by requesting him to ap¬
point a day of public humiliation for deprecating the
eea- Wratb beaven, but met with a refusal. When met
mgsofthe ^ ^a^em» they passed a resolution, declaring the neces-
general as- °f a general congress composed of delegates from
sembiy met all the provinces, in "order to take the affairs of the
a em. colonies at lai’ge into consideration 5 and five gentle¬
men, remarkable for their opposition to the British
measures, were chosen to represent that of Massachu¬
sets Bay. They then proceeded with all expedition
to draw up a declaration, containing a detail of the
grievances they laboured under, and the necessity of
exerting themselves against lawless power : they set
orth the disregard shown to their petitions, and the
attempts of Great Britain to destroy their ancient con¬
stitution j and concluded with exhorting the inhabitants
the port
bill
« G9
Proceed
RICA. 43
of the colony to obstruct, by every method in their United
power, such evil designs, recommending at the same States,
time a total renunciation of every thing imported from \r~~J
Great Britain till a redress of grievances could be pro¬
cured. 160
Intelligence of this declaration was carried to the Generosity
governor on the very day that it was completed 3 on ^jelb£
which he dissolved the assembly. This was followed fCm°to
by an address from the inhabitants of Salem in favour those of
of those of Boston, and concluding with these remark- Boston,
able words : “ By shutting up the port of Boston,
some imagine that the course of trade might be turned
hither, and to our benefit 3 but nature, in the forma¬
tion of our harbour, forbids our becoming rivals in com¬
merce with that convenient mart 3 and were it other¬
wise, we must be dead to every idea of justice, lost
to all feelings of humanity, could we indulge one thought
to seize on wealth, and raise our fortunes on the ruin
of our suffering neighbours.”
It had been fondly hoped by the ministerial party
at home, that the advantages which other towns of
the colony might derive from the annihilation of the
trade of Boston would make them readily acquiesce in
the measure of shutting up that port, and rather re¬
joice in it than otherwise 5 but the words of the address
above mentioned seemed to preclude all hope of this
kind; and subsequent transactions soon manifested it ifit
to be totally vain. No sooner did intelligence arrive The cause
of the remaining bills passed in the session of 177^ of Boston
than the cause of Boston became the cause of all the
colonies. The port bill had already occasioned violent rest of the
commotions throughout them all. It had been repro-colonies,
bated in provincial meetings, and resistance even to the
last had been recommended against such oppression.
In Virginia, the first of June, the day on which the
port of Boston was to be shut up, was held as a day
of humiliation, and a public intercession in favour of
America was enjoined. The style of the prayer en¬
joined at this time was, that “ God would give the
people one heart and one mind, firmly to oppose every
invasion of the American rights.” The Virginians,
however, did not content themselves with acts of reli¬
gion. They recommended in the strongest manner a
general congress of all the colonies, as fully persuad¬
ed that an attempt to tax any colony in an arbitrary
manner was in reality an attack upon them all, and
must ultimately end in the ruin of them all.
I he provinces of New \ ork and Pennsylvania, how-The Ame-
ever, were less sanguine than the rest, being so close-ricans firm¬
ly connected in the way of trade with Great Britain,!)' uni.ted
that the giving it up entirely appeared a matter of tbeintosition
most serious magnitude, and not to be thought of but ^Britain,
after every other method had failed. The intelligence
of the remaining bills respecting Boston, however,
spread a fresh alarm throughout the continent, and fix¬
ed those who had seemed to be the4most wavering.
The proposal of giving up all commercial intercourse
with Britain was again proposed ; contributions for the
inhabitants of Boston were raised in every quarter:
and they every day received addresses commending
them for the heroic courage with which they sustained
their calamity.
The Bostonians on their part were not wanting in
their endeavours to promote the general cause. An
agreement was framed, which, in imitation of former
F 2 times,
1^3
Solemn
vai* to
counteract
it by pro-
«lamation.
A M E
times, they called a Solemn League and Covenant. By
this the subscribers most religiously bound themselves to
break off all communication with Britain after the ex¬
piration of the month ot August ensuing, until the ob-
league and noxious acts were repealed; at the same time they en-
corcnant at gaged neither to purchase nor use any goods imported
Boston. after that time, and to renounce all connection with
those who did, or who refused to subscribe to this cove¬
nant ; threatening to publish the names of the refrac¬
tory, which at this time was a punishment by no means
to be despised. Agreements of a similar kind were al-
^4 most instantaneously entered into throughout all Ame-
The gover- rica. General Gage indeed attempted to counteract
nor at-. covenant by a proclamation, wherein it was decla-
lempts in re(j an juegai an(} traitorous combination, threatening
with the pains of law such as subscribed or countenanced
it. But matters were too far gone for his proclama¬
tions to have any effect. The Americans retorted the
charge of illegality on his own proclamation, and insist¬
ed that the law allowed subjects to meet in order to
consider of their grievances, and associate for relief
from oppression.
Preparations were now made for holding the general
congress so often proposed. Philadelphia, as being the
most central and considerable town, was pitched upon
for the place of its meeting. The delegates of whom it
was to be composed were chosen by the representatives
of each province, and were in number from two to seven
for each colony, though no province had more than
one vote. The first congress which met at Philadel¬
phia, in the beginning of September I774> consisted of
51 delegates. The novelty and importance of the
meeting excited universal attention ; and their trans¬
actions were such as could not but tend to render them
respectable.
The first act of congress was an approbation of the
conduct of Massachusets Bay, and an exhortation to
continue in the same spirit with which they had begun.
Supplies for the suffering inhabitants (whom indeed the
operation of the port bill had reduced to great distress)
were strongly recommended ; and it was declared, that
in case of attempts to enforce the obnoxious acts by arms,
all America should join to assist the town of Boston ;
and should the inhabitants be obliged, during the course
of hostilities, to remove farther up the country, the los¬
ses they might sustain should be repaired at the public
expence.
They next addressed General Gage by letter ; in
which having stated the grievances of the people of
Massachusets colony, they informed him of the fixed
and unalterable determination of all the other provinces
to support their brethren, and to oppose the British acts
of parliament ; that they themselves were appointed to
watch over the liberties of America ; and entreated him
to desist from military operations, lest such hostilities
might be brought on as would frustrate all hope of a re¬
conciliation with the parent state.
The next step was to publish a declaration of their
rights. These they summed up in the rights belonging
to Englishmen ; and particularly insisted, that as their
distance rendered it impossible for them to be represent¬
ed in the British parliament, their provincial assemblies,
with the governor appointed by the king, constituted
the only legislative power within each province. They
would, however, consent to such acts of parliament as
2
i6S
Congress
meets at
Philadel¬
phia.
166
Account of
its transac¬
tions.
RICA.
were evidently calculated merely for the regulation of
commerce, and securing to the parent state the benefits
of the American trade; but would never allow that
they could impose any tax on the colonies, for the
purpose of raising a revenue, without their consent.
They proceeded to reprobate the intention of each of
the new acts of parliament; and insisted on all the
rights they had enumerated as being unalienable, and
what none could deprive them of. The Canada act
they particularly pointed out as being extremely inimi¬
cal to the colonies by whose assistance it had been con¬
quered ; and they termed it, “ An act for establishing
the Roman Catholic religion in Canada, abolishing the
equitable system of English laws, and establishing a ty¬
ranny there.” They further declared in favour of a
non-importation and non-consumption of British goods
until the act was repealed by which duties were im¬
posed upon tea, coffee, wine, sugar, and molasses, im¬
ported into America, as well as the Boston port-act,
and the three others passed in the preceding session of
parliament. The new regulations against the importa¬
tion and consumption of British commodities were
then drawn up with great solemnity; and they con¬
cluded with returning the warmest thanks to those mem¬
bers of parliament who had with so much zeal, though
without any success, opposed the obnoxious acts of par¬
liament. .
Their next proceedings were to frame a petition to
the king, an address to the British nation, and another
to the colonies; all of which were so much in the usual
strain of American language for some time past, that it
is needless to enter into any particular account of them.
It is sufficient to say, that they were all drawn up in a
masterly manner, and ought to have impiessed the peo¬
ple of this country with a more favourable idea of the
Americans than they could at that time be induced to
entertain.
All this time the disposition of the people had cor¬
responded with the warmest wishes of congress. The
first of June had been kept as a fast, not only through¬
out Virginia where it was first proposed, but through
the whole continent. Contributions for the distresses
of Boston had been raised throughout America, and
people of all ranks seemed to be particularly touched
with them. Even those who seemed to be most likely
to derive advantages from them took no opportunity,
as has been already instanced in the case of Salem.
The inhabitants of Marblehead also showed a noble
167
.... Generosity
example of magnanimity in the present case. I hough 0r the inha-
situated in the neighbourhood of Boston, and most hitants ®f
likely to derive benefit from their distresses, they dulMarble-
not attempt to take any advantage, but generously of-
fered the use of their harbour to the Bostonians, as
well as their wharfs and warehouses, free of all ex¬
pence. In the mean time, the British forces at Boston
were continually increasing in number, which greatly
augmented the general jealousy and disaffection ; the
country was ready to rise at a moment’s warning: 1(5g
and the experiment was made by giving a false alarm Extreme
that the communication between the town and country attachment
was to he cut off, in order to reduce the former bythe coun¬
famine to a compliance with the acts of parliament.
On this intelligence the country people assembled s^011jaus>
in great numbers, and could not be satisfied till they
had sent messengers into the city to inquire into the
truth
i
United
States.
AMERICA.
These messengers were enjoined by proclamation. This measure, however, was deemed
45
truth of the report
to inform the town’s people, that if they should be
so pusillanimous as to make a surrender of their li¬
berties, the province would not think itself bound by
such examples j and that Britain, by breaking their
original charter, had annulled the contract subsisting
between them, and left them to act as they thought
P^P61'* ....
The people in every other respect manifested their in¬
flexible determination to adhere to the plan they had so
long followed. The new counsellors and judges were
obliged to resign their offices, in order to preserve their
lives and properties from the fury of the multitude. In
some places they shut up the avenues to the court houses ;
and when required to make way for the judges, replied,
that they knew of none but such as were appointed by
the ancient usage and custom of the province. Every¬
where they manifested the most ardent desire of learn¬
ing the art of war 5 and every individual who could
bear arms, was most assiduous in procuring them, and
learning their exercise.
Matters at last proceeded to such a height, that
General Gage thought proper to fortify the neck of
land which joins the town of Boston to the continent.
This, though undoubtedly a prudent measure in his
situation, was exclaimed against by the Americans in
the most vehement manner j but the general, instead
of giving ear to their remonstrances, deprived them of
all power of acting against himself, by seizing the pro-
the military vincial powder, ammunition, and military stores, at
stores be- Cambridge and Charlestown. This excited such indig¬
nation, that it was with the utmost difficulty the people
could be restrained from marching to Boston and at¬
tacking the troops. Even in the town itself, the com¬
pany of cadets that used to attend him disbanded them¬
selves, and returned the standard he had as usual pre¬
sented them with on his accession to the government.
This was occasioned by his having deprived the cele¬
brated John Hancock, afterwards president of the con¬
gress, of his commission as colonel of the cadets. A
similar instance happened of a provincial colonel having
accepted a seat in the new council j upon which 24 of¬
ficers of his regiment resigned their commissions in one
day.
In the mean time a meeting was held of the principal
to the Bri- inhabitants of the towns adjacent to Boston. The pur-
tish parlia- p0rj 0f was publicly to renounce all obedience to
the late act of parliament, and to form an engagement
to indemnify such as should be prosecuted on that ac¬
count $ the members of the new council were declared
violators of the rights of their country j all ranks and
degrees were exhorted to learn the use of arms j and the
receivers of the public revenue were ordered not to de¬
liver it into the treasury, but retain it in their own
hands till the constitution should be restored, or a pro¬
vincial congress dispose of it otherwise.
A remonstrance against the fortifications on Boston
Neck was next prepared j in which, however, they still
pretended their unwillingness to proceed to any hostile
measures; asserting only as usual their firm determina¬
tion not to submit to the acts of parliament they had
already so much complained of. The governor, to
dissolved by rest°re tranquillity, if possible, called a general assem-
proclama- hty} but so many of the council had resigned their
tion. seats, that he was induced to countermand its sitting
United
States.
169
Gen. Gage
fortifies
Bostoa
Neck;
170
and seizes
longing to
the pro¬
vince.
*71
Opposition
menl still
increases.
171
A general
assembly
called, and
illegal; the assembly met at Salem ; and after waiting
a day for the governor, voted themselves into a provm- v
cial congress, of which Mr Hancock was chosen presi¬
dent. A committee was instantly appointed, who wait¬
ed on the governor with a remonstrance concerning the
fortifications on Boston Neck ; but nothing of conse¬
quence took place, both parties mutually criminating
each other. The winter was now coming on, and the
governor, to avoid quartering the soldiers upon the in-
habitants, proposed to erect barracks for them ; but the Gen. Gage
select men of Boston compelled the workmen to desist. me®tswUli
Carpenters were sent for to New York, but they v?ere^tiesia
refused ; and it was with the utmost difficulty that he accoimno-
could procure winter lodgings for his troops. Nor was dating his
the difficulty less in procuring clothes; as the merchants troop*,
of New York told him, that “ they would never supply
any article for the benefit of men sent as enemies to
their country.” 174
This disposition, known to be almost universal through- The Ame-
out the continent, was in the highest degree satisfactory ncans
to congress. Every one saw that the ensuing spring was
to be the season of commencing hostilities, and the most for w#r
indefatigable diligence was used by the colonies to be
well provided against such a formidable enemy. A list
of all the fencible men in each colony was made out,
and especially of those who had served in the former
war; of whom they had the satisfaction to find that
two-thirds were still alive and fit to bear arms. Ma¬
gazines of arms were collected, and money was provi¬
ded for the payment of troops. The governors in vain
attempted to put a stop to these proceedings by procla¬
mations ; the fatal period was now arrived ; and the
more the servants of government attempted to repress
the spirit of the Americans, the more violent it ap¬
peared. S7S
In the mean time the inhabitants of Boston were re- Diuress of
duced to great distress. The British troops, now di-
stinguished by the name of the enemy, were absolutely goston#
in possesion of it ; the inhabitants were kept as prison¬
ers, and might be made accountable for the conduct of
the whole colonies; and various measures were con¬
trived to relieve the latter from such a disagreeable
situation. Sometimes it was thought expedient to
remove the inhabitants altogether ; but this was im¬
practicable without the governor’s consent. It was
then proposed to set fire to the town at once, after va¬
luing the houses and indemnifying the proprietors;,
but this being found equally impracticable, it was re¬
solved to wait some other opportunity, as the garrison
was not very numerous, and, not being supplied with
necessaries by the inhabitants, might soon be obliged
to leave the place. The friends of British government’
indeed attempted to do something in opposition to the
general voice of the people ; hut after a few ineffectual
meetings and resolutions they were utterly silenced, and
obliged to yield to the superior number of their adver¬
saries.
Matters had now proceeded so far that every idea of Military
reconciliation or friendship with Britain was lost. The
Americans, therefore, without ceremony, began to seize Americans,
on the military stores and ammunition belonging to
goveimment. This first commenced at Newport in
Rhode Island, where the inhabitants carried off 4Cr
pieces of cannon appointed for the protection of the
place;.
46 A M E
United place*, and on being asked the reason of this proceed-
States. ing, they replied, that the people had seized them lest
v they should be made use of against themselves. After
this the assembly met, and resolved that ammunition
and warlike stores should be purchased with the public
money.
New Hampshire followed the example of Rhode
Island, and seized a small fort for the sake of the pow¬
der and military stores it contained. In Pennsylvania,
however, a convention was held, which expressed an
earnest desire of reconciliation with the mother coun¬
try j though at the same time, in the strongest manner
declaring, that they were resolved to take up arms in
defence of their just rights, and defend to the last their
opposition to the late acts of parliament $ and the peo¬
ple were exhorted to apply themselves with the greatest
assiduity to the prosecution of such manufactures as were
necessary for their defence and subsistence, such as salt,
saltpetre, gunpowder, steel, &c. This was the univer¬
sal voice of the colonies, New York only excepted.
The assembly of that province, as yet ignorant of the
fate of their last remonstrance, refused to concur with
the other colonies in their determination to throw off
the British yoke : their attachment, however, was very
faint, and by the event it appeared that a perseverance
in the measures which the ministry had adopted was
sufficient to unite them to the rest.
As the disturbances had originated in the province
of Massachusets Bay, and there continued all along
with the greatest violence, so this was the province
Massachu- where the first hostilities were formally commenced. In
sets assem- the beginning of February the provincial congress met
iHeiuMr"1* ^ CambridSe > and as no fr*ends to Britain could now
parations" ^nd adniittance to that assembly, the only consideration
far war. was how to make proper preparations for war. Expert¬
ness in military discipline was recommended in the
strongest manner, and several military institutions
enacted ; among which that of the minute-men was one
of the most remarkable. These were chosen from the
most active and expert among the militia 5 and their
business was to keep themselves in constant readiness
at the call of their officers; from which perpetual vigi¬
lance they derived their title.—It was now easily seen
that a slight occasion would bring on hostilities, which
could not but be attended with the most violent and cer¬
tain destruction to the vanquished party : for both were
so much exasperated by a long course of reproaches and
literary warfare, that they seemed to be filled with the
utmost inveteracy against each other.
On the 26th of February, General Gage having been
informed that a number of field-pieces had been brought
to Salem, despatched a party to seize them. Their
road was obstructed by a river, over which was a draw¬
bridge. This the people had pulled up, and refused
to let down : upon which the soldiers seized a boat to
ferry them over 5 but the people cut out her bottom.
Hostilities would immediately have commenced, had it
not been for the interposition of a clergyman, who re¬
presented to the military, on the one hand, the folly of
opposing such numbers j and to the people, on the other,
that as the day was far spent the military could not exe¬
cute their design, so that they might without any fear
leave them the quiet possession of the drawbridge.
This was complied with ; and the soldiers, after having
3
RICA.
remained for some time at the bridge, returned without United
executing their orders. States.
The next attempt, however, was attended with more'
serious consequences. General Gage, having been in-skimiish
formed that a large quantity of ammunition and milita-a| Lexing-
ry stores had been collected at Concord, about 20 miles ton.
from Boston, and where the provincial congress was sit¬
ting, sent a detachment, under the command of Colonel
Smith and Major Pitcairn, to destroy the stores, and,
as was reported, to seize Messrs Hancock and Adams,
the leading men of the congress. They set out before
daybreak, on the 19th of April, marching with the •
utmost silence, and securing every one they met on the
road, that they might not be discovered. But notwith¬
standing all their care, the continual ringing of bells
and firing of guns as they went along, soon gave them
notice that the country was alarmed. About five in the
morning they had reached Lexington, 15 miles from
Boston, where the militia of the place were exercising.
An officer called out to them to disperse ; but some
shots, it is said, being at that moment fired from a house
in the neighbourhood, the military made a discharge,
which killed and wounded several of the militia. The
detachment then proceeded to Concord, where, having
destroyed the stores, they were encountered by the A-
mericans j and a scuffle ensued, in which several fell on
both sides. The purpose of their expedition being thus
accomplished, it was necessary for the king’s troops to
retreat, which they did through a continual fire kept
upon them from Concord to Lexington. Here their
ammunition was totally expended ; and they would have
been unavoidably cut off, had not a considerable rein¬
forcement commanded by Lord Percy luckily met them.
The Americans, however, continued their attack with
great fury} and the British would still have been in
the utmost danger, had it not been for two field pieces
which Lord Percy had brought with him. By these
the impetuosity of the Americans was checked, and the
British made good their retreat to Boston with the loss
of 250 killed and wounded : that of the Americans was
about 6q.
By this engagement the spirits of the Americans A great
were so raised, that they meditated nothing less than arn,y as-
the total expulsion of the British troops from Boston. ^re^ostoK*
An army of 20,000 men was assembled, who formed ° 8
aline of encampment from Roxbury to Mystic, through
a space of about 30 miles j and here they were soon after
joined by a large body of Connecticut troops, under
General Putnam, an old officer of great bravery and
experience. By this formidable force wras the town of
Boston now7 kept blocked up. General Gage, how¬
ever, had so strongly fortified it, that the enemy,
powerful as they were, durst not make an attack $
while, on the other hand, his force was by far too in¬
significant to meet such an enemy in the field. But
towards the end of May, a considerable reinforcement
haying arrived, with Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and
Clinton, he was soon enabled to attempt something of
consequence j and this the boasts of the provincials,
that they were besieging those who had been sent to
subdue them, seemed to render necessary. Some skir¬
mishes in the mean time happened in the islands lying
off Boston harbour, in which the Americans had the
advantage, and burnt an armed schooner, which her
people
AMERICA.
47
iSo
Battle at
Bunker's
Hill.
people had been obliged to abandon after she was
left aground by the tide. Nothing decisive, however,
took place till the 17th of June. In the neighbour¬
hood of Charlestown, a place on the northern shore of
the peninsula on which Boston stands, is a high ground
called Bunker's Hill, which overlooks and commands
the whole town of Boston. In the night of the 16th
the provincials took possession of this place : and work¬
ed with such indefatigable diligence, that, to the asto¬
nishment of their enemies, they had before daylight
almost completed a redoubt, with a strong intrench-
roent reaching half a mile eastward, as far as the river
Mystic. After this they were obliged to sustain a
heavy and incessant fire from the ships and floating bat¬
teries with which Charlestown Neck was surrounded,
as well as the cannon that could reach the place from
Boston j in spite of which, however, they continued
their work, and finished it before mid-day. A consi¬
derable body of foot was then landed at the foot of
Bunker’s Hill, under the command of Generals Howe
and Pigot; the former being appointed to attack the
lines, and the latter the redoubt. The Americans,
however, having the advantage of the ground, as well
as of their intrenchments, poured down such incessant
volleys as threatened the whole body with destruction j
and General Howe was for a little time left almost
alone, all his officers being killed or wounded. The
provincials in the mean time had taken possession of
Charlestown, so that General Pigot was obliged to
contend with them in that place as w'ell as in the re¬
doubt. The consequence was, that he was overmatched;
his troops were thrown into disorder; and he would in
all probability have been defeated, had not General
Clinton advanced to his relief: upon which the attack
was renewed with such fury, that the provincials were
driven beyond the neck that leads to Charlestown. In
the heat of the engagement the British troops were obli¬
ged to set fire to the town of Charlestown, which quick¬
ly obliged the provincials to yield after they were de¬
prived of that shelter. The loss of the British side
amounted to about IOOO, among whom were 19 officers
killed and 70 wounded 5 that of the Americans did not
exceed 500.
The British troops claimed the victory in this en¬
gagement with justice, though it must be allowed that
it was dearly bought j and the Americans boasted that
the real advantages were on their side, as they had so
much weakened the enemy, that they durst not after¬
wards venture out of their intrenchments. From the
many advantages, however, which the Americans pos¬
sessed, it is evident that the greatest display of valour
was on the side of their enemies. The former were
strongly intrenched, and most of their fortifications
cannon proof j their soldiers were all chosen, and ex¬
cellent marksmen, to whom muskets ready loaded were
handed as fast as they were discharged j and when one
party was wearied, another came to their assistance, as
was perceived by the spectators on the tops of the
houses at Boston. Considering, however, that this
was the first time the provincials had been in actual
service, it must be owned that they behaved with
great spirit, and by no means merited the appellation
of cowards, with which they were so often branded in
Britain.
In other places the same determined spirit of resist¬
ance appeared on the part of the Americans. Lord United
North’s conciliatory scheme was utterly rejected by State*,
the assemblies of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and af- ' 1 ^
terwards in every other colony. The commencement
of hostilities at Lexington determined the colony ofricang bc-
New York, which had hitherto continued to waver, to come more
unite with the rest j and as the situation of New Yorkand more
renders it unable to resist an attack from the sea, ^eTr oT
was resolved, before the arrival of a British fleet, to se-position^
cure the military stores, send off’ the women and chil¬
dren, and to set fire to the city if it was still found in¬
capable of defence. The exportation of provisions was
everywhere prohibited, particularly to the British fish¬
ery on the banks of Newfoundland, or to such colonies
of America as should adhere to the British interest.
Congi’ess resolved on the establishment of an army,
and of a large paper currency in order to support it.
In the inland northern colonies, Colonels Easton and
Ethan Allen, without receiving any orders from con- lS,
gress, or communicating their design to anybody, with Crown
a party of only 250 men, surprised the forts of Crown Point and
Point, Ticonderago, and the rest that form a commu-Tlcon^e"
nication betwixt the colonies and Canada. On this oc-
casion 200 pieces of cannon fell into their hands, be-mericanSj
sides mortars and a large quantity of military stores,
together with two armed vessels, and materials for the
construction of others.
After the battle of Bunker’s Hill, the provincials
erected fortifications on the heights which commanded
Charlestown, and strengthened the rest in such a man¬
ner that there was no hope of driving them from
thence j at the same time that their activity and bold¬
ness astonished the British officers, who had been ac¬
customed to entertain too mean an opinion of their
courage.
The troops, thus shut up in Boston, were soon re-rp^pg jjj
duced to distress. Their necessities obliged them to Boston di¬
attempt the carrying off the American cattle on the stressed,
islands before Boston, which produced frequent skir¬
mishes 5 but the provincials, better acquainted with the
navigation of these shores, landed on the islands, de¬
stroyed or carried off whatever was of any use, burned
the lighthouse at the entrance of the harbour, and
took prisoners the workmen sent to repair it, as well
as a party of marines who guarded them. Thus the
garrison were reduced to the necessity of sending out
armed vessels to make prizes indiscriminately of all that
came in their way, and of landing in different places
to plunder for subsistence as well as they could.
The congress in the mean time continued to act with 0I-
all the vigour which its constituents had expected, union be-
Articles of confederation and perpetual union were twist the
drawn up and solemnly agreed upon j by which they •'d0016®*
bound themselves and their posterity for ever. These
were in substance as follow :.
1. Each colony was to be independent within itself,
and to retain an absolute sovereignty in all domestic
affairs.
2. Delegates to be annually elected to meet in con¬
gress, at such time and place as should be enacted in
the preceding congress.
3. This assembly should have the power of deter*
mining war or peace, making alliances $ and in short
all that power which sovereigns of states usually claim
as their, own. .
4. The
48
A M E R
United
State*.
4. The expences of war to be paid out of the com¬
mon treasury, and raised by a poll tax on males between
16 and 60; the proportions to be determined by the
laws of the colony. . .
5. An executive council to be appointed to act m
place of the congress during its recess.
6. No colony to make war with the Indians without
consent of congress. B , _ .
7. The boundaries of all the Indian lands to b« se¬
cured and ascertained to them j and no purchases of
lands were to be made by individuals, or even by a co¬
lony, without consent of congress.
8. Agents, appointed by congress should reside among
the Indians, to prevent frauds in trading with them, and
to relieve, at the public expence, their wants and dis-
tresses#
9. This confederation to last until there should be a
reconciliation with Britain ^ or, if that event should not
take place, it was to be perpetual.
After the action of Bunker’s Hill, however, when
the power of Great Britain appeared less formidable in
the eyes of America than before, congress proceeded
formally to justify their proceedings in a declaration
drawn up in terms more expressive, and well calculated
to excite attention.
« Were it possible (said they) for men who exer¬
cise their reason, to believe that the divine Author of
our existence intended a part of the human race to hold
an absolute property in and unbounded power over
others, marked out by His infinite goodness and wis¬
dom as the objects of a regal domination, never right¬
fully resistible, however severe and oppressive j the in¬
habitants of these colonies might at least require from
the parliament of Great Britain some evidence that this
dreadful authority over them had been granted to that
body ; but a reverence for our great Creator, princi¬
ples of humanity, and the dictates of common sense,
must convince all those who reflect upon the subject,
that government was instituted to promote the welfare
of mankind, and ought to be administered for the attain¬
ment of that end.
“ The legislature of Great Britain, however stimu¬
lated by an inordinate passion for power, not only un¬
justifiable, but which they know to be peculiarly repro¬
bated by the very constitution of that kingdom 5 and
despairing of success in any mode of contest where re¬
gard should be had to law, truth, or right; have at
length, deserting those, attempted to effect their cruel
and impolitic purpose, of enslaving these colonies by
violence, and have thereby rendered it necessary for us
to close with their last appeal from reason to arms. Yet,
however blinded that assembly may be, by their intem¬
perate rage for unlimited domination, so to slight justice
in the opinion of mankind, we esteem ourselves bound
by obligations to the rest of the world to make known
the justice of our cause.”
uccmuh-! After taking notice of the manner in which their an-
tion en ta- cestors left Britain, the happiness attending the mutual
king up friendly commerce betwixt that country and her colo¬
nies, and the remarkable success of the late war, they
proceed as follows: “The new ministry finding the
brave foes of Britain, though frequently defeated, yet
still contending, took up the unfortunate idea of grant¬
ing them a hasty peace, and then of subduing her faith¬
ful subjects.
185
Declaia-'
arms.
I C A.
“ These devoted colonies were judged to be in such
a state as to present victories without bloodshed, and all
the easy emoluments of statutable plunder. The unin¬
terrupted tenour of their peaceable and respectful be¬
haviour from the beginning of their colonization ; their
dutiful, zealous, and useful services during the war,
though so recently and amply acknowledged in the
most honourable manner by his majesty, by the late
king, and by parliament, could not save them from the
intended innovations. Parliament was influenced to
adopt the pernicious project; and assuming a new power
over them, has in the course of eleven years given such
decisive specimens of the spirit and consequences attend¬
ing this power, as to leave no doubt of the effects of ac¬
quiescence under it.
“ They have undertaken to give and grant our mo¬
ney without our consent, though we have ever exer¬
cised an exclusive right to dispose of our own proper¬
ty. Statutes have been passed for extending the juris¬
diction of the courts of admiralty, and vice-admiralty,
beyond their ancient limits ; for depriving us of the
accustomed and inestimable rights of trial by jury, in
cases affecting both life and property ; for suspending
the legislature of one of our colonies ; for interdicting
all commerce to the capital ot another ; and for alter¬
ing fundamentally the form of government established
by charter, and secured by acts of its own legislature ;
and solemnly confirmed by the crown ; for exempting
the murderers of colonists from legal trial, and in ef¬
fect from punishment; for erecting in a neighbouring
province, acquired by the joint arms of Great Britain
and America, a despotism dangerous to our very exist¬
ence ; and for quartering soldiers upon the colonists in
time of a profound peace. It has also been resolved
in parliament, that colonists charged with committing
certain offences, shall be transported to England to be
tried*
“ But why should we enumerate our injuries in de¬
tail ? By one statute it was declared, that parliament
can of right make laws to bind us in all cases whatever.
What is to defend us against so enormous, so unlimited
a power ? Not a single person who assumes it is chosen
by us, or is subject to our controul or influence ; but,
on the contrary, they are all of them exempt from the
operation of such laws; and an American revenue, if
not diverted from the ostensible purposes from which it
is raised, would actually lighten their own burdens in
proportion as it increases ours.
“ We saw the misery to which such despotism would
reduce us. We for ten years incessantly and ineffectu¬
ally besieged the throne as supplicants ; we reasoned,
we remonstrated with parliament in the most mild and
decent language : but administration, sensible that we
should regard these principles as free men ought to do,
sent over fleets and armies to enforce them.
“ We have pursued every temperate, every respect¬
ful measure ; we have even proceeded to break off all
commercial intercourse with our fellow-subjects as our
last peaceable admonition, that our attachment to no
nation on earth would supplant our attachment to li¬
berty : this we flattered ourselves was the ultimate step
of the controversy; but subsequent events have shown
how vain was this hope of finding moderation in our
enemies !
“ The Lords and Commons, in their address in the
month
AMERICA.
49
tluitfd ttontli of February said, that a rebellion at that time ac-
jjtau*;. tually existed in the province of Massachusets Bay, and
i—-v—> that those concerned in it had been countenanced and
encouraged by unlawful combinations and engage¬
ments entered into by his majesty’s subjects in several of
the colonies ; and therefore they besought his majesty
that he would take the most effectual measures to enforce
due obedience to the laws and authority of the supreme
legislature. Soon after, the commercial intercourse of
whole colonies with foreign countries was cut off by an
act of parliament *, by another, several of them were
entirely prohibited from the fisheries in the seas near
their coasts, on which they always depended for their
subsistence ; and large reinforcements of ships and
troops were immediately sent over to General Gage.
“ Fruitless were all the entreaties, arguments, and elo¬
quence of an illustrious band of the most distinguished
peers and commoners, who nobly and strenuously assert¬
ed the justice of our cause, to stay, or even to mitigate,
the heedless fury with which these accumulated outrages
were hurried on. Equally fruitless was the interference
of the city of London, of Bristol, and many other re¬
spectable towns, in our favour.”
After having reproached parliament, General Gage,
and the British government in general, they proceed
thus : “ We are reduced to the alternative of choosing
an unconditional submission to tyranny, or resistance
by force. The latter is our choice. We have counted
the cost of this contest, and find nothing so dreadful
as voluntary slavery. Honour, justice, and humanity,
forbid us tamely to surrender that freedom which we
received from our gallant ancestors, and which our in¬
nocent posterity have a right to receive from us. Our
cause is just $ our union is perfect j our internal re¬
sources are great •, and, if necessary, foreign assistance
is undoubtedly attainable. We fight not for glory or
conquest; we exhibit to mankind the remarkable spec¬
tacle of a people attacked by unprovoked enemies.
They boast of their privileges and civilization, and yet
proffer no milder conditions than servitude or death.
In our own native land, in defence of the freedom that
is our birthright, for the protection of our proper¬
ty acquired by the honest industry of our forefathers
and our own, against violence actually offered, we have
taken up arms; we shall lay them down when hostili¬
ties shall cease on the part of our aggressors, and all
danger of their being renewed shall be removed,—and
not before.”
These are some of the most striking passages in the
declaration of congress on taking up arms against
Great Britain, and dated July 6th 1775. Without in¬
quiring whether the principles on which it is founded
are right or wrong, the determined spirit which it
shows ought to have convinced us, that the conquest of
America was an event scarcely ever to be expected. In
every other respect an equal spirit was shown ; and the
rulers of the British nation had the mortification to
see those whom they styled rebels and traitors, succeed
1S6 in negotiations in which they themselves were utterly
Quebec bill foiled. In the passing of the Quebec bill, ministry had
able'tc)66" ^a^ere^ themselves that the Canadians would be so
those whommUCached to them on account of restoring the
it was in- Ft^nch laws, that they would very readily join in any
tended to attempt against the colonists, who had reprobated that
please. bill in such strong terms; but in this, as in every thing
Vol. II. Part I. 3 %
else indeed they found themselves mistaken. The Ca- United
nadians having been subject to Britain for a period of States.
15 years, and being thus rendered sensible of the supe- u—y——^
rior advantages of British government, received the bill
itself with evident marks of disapprobation; nay, re¬
probated it as tyrannical and oppressive. A scheme
bad been formed for General Carleton, governor of the
province, to raise an army of Canadians wherewith to
act against the Americans ; and so sanguine were the
hopes of administration in this respect, that they had
sent 20,000 stand of arms, and a great quantity of mi¬
litary stores, to Quebec for the purpose. But the peo¬
ple, though they did not join the Americans, yet were
found immoveable in their purpose to stand neuter. Ap¬
plication was made to the bishop; but he declined
to interpose his influence, as contrary to the rules of
the Popish clergy : so that the utmost efforts of govern¬
ment in this province were found to answer little or no
purpose. 157
The British administration next tried to engage the Ministry
Indians in their cause. But though agents were dis-aU.cn,l)t’*
j *11 . ..i 1 • r vam to arm
persed among them with large presents to the chiefs, t^e jn(j-an!(>
they universally replied, that they did not understand
the nature of the quarrel, nor could they distinguish
whether those who dwelt in America or on the other
side of the ocean were in fault: but they were surprised
to see Englishmen ask their assistance against one ano¬
ther ; and advised them to be reconciled, and not
think of shedding the blood of their brethren. To
the representations of congress thev paid more re¬
spect. These set forth, that the English on the other
side of the ocean had taken up arms to enslave not on¬
ly their countrymen in America, but the Indians also;
and if the latter should enable them to overcome the
colonists, they themselves would soon be reduced to a
state of slavery also. By arguments of this kind these
savages were engaged to remain neuter; and thus the
colonists were freed from a most dangerous enemy. On
this occasion the congress thought proper to hold a
solemn conference with the different tribes of Indians.
The speech made by them on the occasion is curious,
but too long to be fully inserted. The following is a
specimen of the European mode of addressing these
people.
1S8
“ Brothers, Sachems, and Warriors ! Speech of
“ We, the delegates from the Twelve United Pro- p0,»~
vinces, now sitting in general congress at Philadelphia,
send their talk to you our brothers. ' gress to the
“ Brothers hnd Friends now attend! Indian^.
“ When our fathers crossed the great water, and
came over to this land, the king of England gave them
a talk, assuring them that they and their children should
be his children ; and that if they would leave their
native country, and make settlements, and live here,
and buy and sell, and trade with their brethren beyond
the water, they should still keep hold of the same co¬
venant chain, and enjoy peace ; and it was covenan¬
ted, that the fields, houses, goods, and possessions which
our fathers should acquire, should remain to them as
their own, and be their children’s for ever, and at their
sole disposal.
“ Brothers and Friends, open a kind ear!
“ We will now tell you of the quarrel betwixt the
G counsellor*
AMERICA.
United counsellors of King George and the inhabitants and
States, colonies of America.
“ Many of his counsellors have persuaded him to
break the covenant chain, and not to send us any more
good talks. They have prevailed upon him to enter
into a covenant against us $ and have torn asunder,
and cast behind their backs, the good old covenant
which their ancestors and ours entered into, and took
strong hold of. They now tell us, they will put their
hands into our pocket without asking, as though it
were their own ; and at their pleasure they will take
from us our charters or written civil constitution, which
we love as our lives j also our plantations, our houses,
and goods, whenever they please, without asking our
leave. They tell us, that our vessels may go to that
or this island in the sea, but to this or that particular
island we shall not trade any more $ and, in case of our
non-compliance with these new orders, they shut up our
harbours.
“ Brothers, we live on the same ground with you 5
the same island is our common birthplace. We desire to
sit down under the same tree of peace with you j let us
water its roots, and cherish the growth, till the large
leaves and flourishing branches shall extend to the setting
sun, and reach the skies. If any thing disagreeable
should ever fall out between us, the Twelve United Co¬
lonies, and you, the Six Nations, to wound our peace,
let us immediately seek measures for healing the breach.
From the present situation of our affairs, we judge it
expedient to kindle up a small fire at Albany, where
we may hear each other’s voice, and disclose our minds
fully to one another.”
The other remarkable transactions of this cohgress
were the ultimate refusal of the conciliatory proposal
made by Lord North, of which such sanguine expec¬
tations had been formed by the English ministry ; and
1S9 appointing a generalissimo to command their armies,
General which were now very numerous. The person chosen
Washing- for this purpose was George Washington : a man so
universally beloved, that he was raised to such a high
juander iu stati°n by the unanimous voice of congress; and his
chief. subsequent conduct showed him every way worthy of
it. Horace Gates and Charles Lee, two English offi¬
cers of considerable reputation, were also chosen ; the
former an adjutant-general, the second a major-general.
Artemus Ward, Philip Schuyler, and Israel Putnam,
were likevvise nominated major-generals. Seth Pome¬
roy, Richard Montgomery, David Weoster, William
Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan,
and Nathaniel Green, were chosen brigadier-generals at
l90 the same time.
Georgia Congress had now also the satisfaction to receive de-
accedes to puties from the colony of Georgia, expressing a desire
deracy?'0 to J0^ ^ confederacy. The reasons they gave for re¬
nouncing their allegiance to Britain were, that the con¬
duct of parliament towards the other colonies had been
oppressive ; that though the obnoxious acts had not
been extended to them, they could view this only as
an omission, because of the seeming little consequence
of their colony ; and therefore looked upon it rather
to be a slight than a favour. At the same time they
framed a petition to the king, similar to that sent by
the other colonies, and which met with a similar re¬
ception.
The success which had hitherto attended the Ame-
3
ricans in all their measures, now.emboldened them to unjte(j
think not only of defending themselves, but likewise of States,
acting offensively against Great Britain. The conquest
of Canada appeared an object within their reach, and_ I9t
one that would be attended with many advantages; and . e Amc'
. • 1 1 -i- , . ncans at-
as an invasion of that province was already facilitated by teiDpt tj)c
the taking of Crown Point and Ticonderago, it was re-conquest of
solved if possible to penetrate that way into Canada, and Canada,
reduce Quebec during the winter, before the fleets and
armies, which they were well assured would sail thither
from Britain, should arrive. By order of congress,
therefore, 3000 men were put under the command of
Generals Montgomery and Schuyler, with orders to pro¬
ceed to Lake Champlain, from whence they were to be
conveyed in flat-bottomed boats to the mouth of the
river Sorel, a branch of the great river St Lawrence,
and on which is situated a fort of the same name with
the river. On the other hand, they were opposed by
General Carleton governor of Canada, a man of great
activity and experience in war ; who, with a very few
troops, had hitherto been able to keep in awe the disaf¬
fected people of Canada, notwithstanding all the repre¬
sentations of the colonists. He had now augmented his
army by a considerable number of Indians, and promised
even in his present situation to make a very formidable
resistance.
As soon as General Montgomery arrived at Crown
Point, he received information that several armed ves¬
sels were stationed at St John’s, a strong fort on the
Sorel, with a view to prevent his crossing the lake;
on which he took possession of an island which com¬
mands the mouth of the Sorel, and by which he could
prevent them from entering the lake. In conjunction
with General Schuyler, he next proceeded to St John’s:
but finding that place too strong, he landed on a part
of the country considerably distant, and lull of woods
and swamps. From thence, however, they were driven
by a party of Indians whom General Carleton had em¬
ployed.
The provincial army was now obliged to retreat to
the island of which they had at first taken possession ;
where General Schuyler being taken ill, Montgomery
was left to command alone. His first step was to gain
over the Indians whom General Carleton had employed,
and this he in a great measure accomplished; after
which, on receiving the full number of troops appoint¬
ed for his expedition, he determined to lay siege to St 1.2
John’s. In this he was facilitated by the reduction ofchamblee
Chamblee, a small fort in the neighbourhood, where hetake».
found a large supply of powder. An attempt was made
by General Carleton to relieve the place; for which pur¬
pose he with great painscollected about 1000 Canadians,
while Colonel Maclean proposed to raise a regiment of
the Highlanders who had emigrated from their own
country to America.
But while General Carleton was on his march with General
these new levies, he was attacked by a superior force Carleton
of provincials, and utterly defeated ; which being defeated,
made known to another body of Canadians who had
joined Colonel Maclean, they abandoned him with¬
out striking a blow, and he was obliged to retreat to
Quebec.
1 he defeat of General Carleton was a sufficient re¬
compense to the Americans for that of Colonel Ethan
Allen, which had happened some time before. The
success
United
States.
194
St John’s
l*rt taken,
195
and like'
A M E
success which had attended this gentleman against
Crown Point and Ticonderago had emboldened him
to make a similar attempt on Montreal j but being at¬
tacked by the militia of the place, fsupported by a de¬
tachment of regulars, he was entirely defeated and ta¬
ken prisoner.
As the defeat of General Carleton and the desertion
of Maclean’s forces left no room for the garrison of St
John’s to hope for any relief, they now consented to
surrender themselves prisoners of war j but were in other
respects treated with great humanity. They were in
number 500 regulars and 200 Canadians, among whom
were many of the French nobility j who had been very
active in promoting the cause of Britain among their
countrymen.
General Montgomery next took measures to prevent
the British shipping from passing down the river from
Montreal to Quebec. This he accomplished so effec¬
tually, that the whole were taken. The town itself
wise Mont- was 0bljgec| to surrender at discretion ■, and it was with
r*a1' the utmost difficulty that General Carleton escaped in
an open boat by the favour of a dark night.
No further obstacles now remained in the way of the
Americans to the capital, except what arose from the
nature of the country j and these indeed were very con¬
siderable. Nothing, however, could damp the ardour
of the provincials. Notwithstanding it was now the
middle of November, and the depth of winter was at
Col idh&nd} Colonel Arnold formed a design of penetrating
penetrates through woods, morasses, and the most frightful soli-
into Cana- tudes from New England to Canada, by a nearer way
than that which Montgomery had chosen j and this he
accomplished in spite of every difficulty, to the astonish¬
ment of all who saw or heard of the attempt. rIhis
desperate march, however, cannot be looked upon as
conducive to any good purpose. A third part of his
men under another colonel had abandoned him by the
wav, under pretence of want of provisions ; the total
want of artillery rendered his presence insignificant
before a place strongly fortified $ and the smallness of
his army x'endered it even doubtful whether he could
have taken the town by surprise. The Canadians in¬
deed were amazed at the exploit, and their inclination
to revolt from Britain was somewhat augmented ; but
none of them as yet took up arms in behalf of America.
The consternation into which the town of Quebec was
thrown proved detrimental rather than otherwise to the
expedition j as it doubled the vigilance and activity of
the inhabitants to prevent any surprise; and the ap¬
pearance of common danger united all parties, who, be¬
fore the arrival of Arnold, were contending most vio¬
lently with one another. He was therefore obliged to
content himself with blocking up the avenues to the
town, in order to distress the garrison for want of pro¬
visions •, and even this he was unable to do effectually,
by reason of the small number of his men.
The matter was not much mended by the arrival of
General Montgomery. The force he had with him,
even when united to that of Arnold, was too insignifi¬
cant to attempt the reduction of a place so strongly
fortified, especially with the assistance only of a few
mortars and field-pieces. After the siege had conti¬
nued through the month of December, General Mont¬
gomery, conscious that he could accomplish his end no
other way than by surprise, resolved to make an at-
da.
RICA.
tempt on the last day of the year 1775. The method
he took at this time was perhaps the best that human
wisdom could devise. He advanced by break of day, ^
in the midst of a heavy fall of snow, which covered his Atten^t
men from the sight of the enemy. Two real attacks to surpris*
were made by himself and Colonel Arnold, at the same Quebec,
time that two feigned attacks were made on two other
places, thus to distract the garrison, and make them
divide their forces. One of the real attacks was made
by the people of New York, and the other by those ol
New England under Arnold. Their hopes of surpri¬
sing the place, however, were defeated by the signal
for the attack being through some mistake given too
soon. General Montgomery himself had the most dan¬
gerous place, being obliged to pass between the river
and some high rocks on which the Upper Town stands j
so that he was forced to make what haste he could to ^
close with the enemy. His fate, however, rvas now General
decided. Having forced the first barrier, a violent Montgo-
discharge of musketry and grape shot from the second oie^ry^killed,
killed him, his principal officers, and the most of the AnC,e,.jcans
party he commanded j on which those who remained defeated,,
immediately retreated. Colonel Arnold in the mean
time made a desperate attack on the Lower Town, and
carried one of the barriers after an obstinate resistance
for an hour; but in the action he himself received a
wound, which obliged him to withdraw. The at¬
tack, however, was continued by the officers whom
he had left, and another barrier forced : but the gar¬
rison, now perceiving that nothing was to be feared
except from that quarter, collected their whole force
against it; and, after a desperate engagement of three
hours, overpowered the provincials, and obliged them
to surrender.
In this action, it must be confessed that the valour
of the provincial troops could not be exceeded. They
had fought under as great disadvantages as those
which attended the British at Bunker’s Hill, and had
behaved equally well. Such a terrible disaster left no
hope remaining of the accomplishment of their purpose,
as General Arnold could now scarce number 800 ef¬
fective men under his command. He did not, how¬
ever, abandon the province, or even remove to a greater
distance than three miles from Quebec ; and here he
still found means to annoy the garrison very consider¬
ably by intercepting their provisions. The Canadians,
notwithstanding the bad success of the American arms,
still continued friendly J and thus he was enabled to
sustain the hardships of a winter encampment in that t99
- - ? - - Arnold
far fit
most severe climate. The congress, lar Irom Passingcl.eatc(j r
any censure on him for his misfortune, created him abrigadier-
brigadier-general. general.
While hostilities were thus carried on with vigour in
the north, the flame of contention was gradually ex- . 200 ^
tending itself in the south. Lord Dunmore, the go-j^dlDuii-
vernor of Virginia, was involved in disputes similar tomore wjtji
those which had taken place in other colonies. These his pro-
had proceeded so far that the assembly was dissolved ; ■''incc of
which in this province was attended with a consequence^7*1^1”8’
unknown to the rest. As Virginia contained a great
number of slaves, it was necessary that a militia should
be kept constantly on foot to keep them in awe. Du¬
ring the dissolution of the assembly the militia laws ex¬
pired ; and the people, after complaining of the danger
they were in from the negroes, formed a convention,
G 2 which
52
AMERICA.
United
States.
201
lie sends
his family
aboard a
which enacted that each county should raise a quota
for the defence of the province. Dunmore, on this,
removed the powder from Williamsburg j which crea¬
ted such discontents, that an immediate quarrel would
probably have ensued, had not the merchants of the.
town undertaken to obtain satisfaction for the injury
supposed to be done to the community. This tranquil¬
lity, however, was soon interrupted } the people, alarm¬
ed by a report that an armed party were on their way
from the man of war where the powder had been de¬
posited, assembled in arms, and determined to oppose
by force any farther removals. In some of the confe¬
rences which passed at this time, the governor let fall
some unguarded expressions, such as threatening them
with setting up the royal standard, proclaiming liberty
to the negroes, destroying the town of Williamsburg,
&c. which were afterwards made public, and exagge¬
rated in such a manner as greatly to increase the public
ferment.
The people now held frequent assemblies. Some of
them took up arms with a design to force the governor
to restore the powder, and to take the public money into
their own possession j but on their way to Williamsburg
for this purpose they were met by the receiver-general,
who became security for the payment of the gunpowder,
and the inhabitants promised to take care of the maga¬
zine and public revenue.
By this insurrection the governor was so much inti¬
midated, that he sent his family on board a man of
man ofwar.war- He himself, however, issued a proclamation, in
which he declared the behaviour of the persons who pro¬
moted the tumult treasonable, accused the people of
disaffection, &e. On their part they were by no means
deficient in recriminating ; and some letters of his to
Britain being about the same time discovered, conse¬
quences ensued extremely similar to those which had
been occasioned by those of Mr Hutchison at Boston.
In this state of confusion the governor thought it
necessary to fortify his palace with artillery, and pro¬
cure a party of marines to guard it. Lord North’s
conciliatory proposal arriving also about the same time,
he used his utmost endeavours to cause the people com¬
ply with it. The arguments he used were such as must
do him honour; and had not matters already gone to
such a pitch of distraction, it is highly probable that
some attention would have been paid to them. “ The
L. North’s view (he said) in which the colonies ought to behold
conciliatory this conciliatory proposal, was no more than an earnest
plan. admonition from Great Britain to relieve her wants:
that the utmost condescendence had been used in the
mode of application ; no determinate sum having been
fixed, as it was thought most worthy of British gene¬
rosity to take what they thought could be convenient¬
ly spared, and likewise to leave the mode of raising it
to themselves,” &c. But the clamour and dissatisfac¬
tion were now so universal, that nothing else could be
attended to. The governor had called an assembly for
the purpose of laying this conciliatory proposal before
them *, but it had been little attended to. The assem¬
bly began their session by inquiries into the state of the
magazine. It had been broken into by some of the
townsmen j for which reason spring-guns had been
placed there by the governor, which discharged them¬
selves upon the offenders at their entrance : these cir¬
cumstances, with others of a similar kind, raised such a
2
802
'Fortifies
bm palace.
ioj
His argtt-
jiicntK for
violent uproar, that as soon as the preliminary business tTnitf<3
of the session was over, the governor retired on board a States,
man of war, informing the assembly that he durst no ~~ v ■1'
longer trust himself on shore. This produced a l0n8'xhe2go
course of disputation, which ended in a positive refusal vernor re_
of the governor to trust himself again in Williamsburg, tires on
even to give his assent to the bills, which could not be !)oard a
passed without it, and though the assembly offered
bind themselves for his personal safety. In his turn
he requested them to meet him on board the man of
war, where he then was; but this proposal was reject¬
ed, and all further correspondence containing the least
appearance of friendship was discontinued. 205
Lord Dunmore, thus deprived of his government, Attempt*
attempted to reduce by force those whom he could noy
longer govern. Some of the most strenuous adhe- ^ force *
rents to the British cause, whom their zeal had render¬
ed obnoxious at home, now repaired to him. He was,
also joined by numbers of black slaves. With these
and the assistance of the British shipping, he was for
some time enabled to carry on a kind of predatory war,
sufficient to hurt and exasperate, but not to subdue.
After some inconsiderable attempts on land, proclaim¬
ing liberty to the slaves, and setting up the royal stan¬
dard, he took up his residence at Norfolk, a maritime
town of some consequence, where the people were bet¬
ter affected to Britain than in most other places. A 206
considerable force, however, was collected against him;but is en~
and the natural impetuosity of his temper prompting
him to act against them with more courage than can-1
tion, he was entirely defeated, and obliged to retire to
his shipping, which was now crowded by the number
of those who had incurred the resentment of the pro¬
vincials. 20y
In the meantime a scheme of the utmost magnitude Mr Conol¬
and importance was formed by one Mr Conolly, a Penn-V® P*an
sylvanian of an intrepid and aspiring disposition, and^1^'
attached to the cause of Britain. The first step of this
plan was to enter into a league with the Ohio Indians.
This he communicated to Lord Dunmore, and it re¬
ceived his approbation : Upon which Conolly set out,
and actually succeeded in his design. On his return
he was dispatched to General Gage, from whom he
received a colonel’s commission, and set out in order to
accomplish the remainder of his scheme. The plan in
general was, that he should return to the Ohio, where,
by the assistance of the British and Indians in these
parts, he was to penetrate through the hack settle¬
ments into Virginia, and join Lord Dunmore at Alex- 2cS
andria. But by an accident very naturally to be ex-He
pected, he was discovered, taken prisoner, and thrown covered
into a dungeon. and takes
After the retreat of Lord Dunmore from Norfolk,Pr*sonei:*
that place was taken possession of by the provincials,
who treated the loyalists that had remained there with
great cruelty ; at the same time that they greatly di¬
stressed those on board Lord Dunmore’s fleet, by refu- ac?
sing to supply them with any necessaries. Nor was Cruelty of
this all ; the vicinity of the shipping was so great as the Amert-
to afford the riflemen an opportunity of aiming at thecans*
people on board, and exercising the cruel occupation of
killing them, in which they did not fail every day to
employ themselves. These proceedings at last drew a
remonstrance from his lordship ; in which he insisted
that the fleet should be furnished with necessaries, and
that
North Ca.
rolina ex
polled.
A M E
United that the soldiers should desist from the cruel diversion
States, above mentioned ; but both these requests being denied,
' v—a resolution was taken to set fire to the town. After
The^ovrn giv‘ng ^ inhabitants proper warning,-a party landed,
•f Norfolk under cover of a man of war, and set fire to that part
destroyed, which lay nearest the shore j but the flames were ob¬
served at the same time to break forth in every other
quarter, and the whole town was reduced to ashes.
This universal destruction, by which a loss of more than
300,000k was incurred, is said to have been occasioned
by order of the congress itself, that the loyalists might
jlt find no refuge there for the future.
The go- In the southern colonies of Carolina the governors
■vernors of were expelled, and obliged to take refuge on board of
Soathand men 0f war> as Lord Dunmore had been j Mr Martin,
governor of North Carolina, on a charge of attempting
to raise the back settlers, consisting chiefly of Scots
Highlanders, against the colony. Having secured them¬
selves against any attempts from these enemies, however,
they proceeded to regulate their internal concerns in the
same manner as the rest of the colonies ; and by the end
of the year 1775, Britain beheld the whole of America
united against her in the most determined opposition.
Her vast possessions of that tract of land (since known by
the name of the Thirteen United States') were now redu¬
ced to the single town of Boston $ in which her forces
were besieged by an enemy with whom they were ap¬
parently not able to cope, and by whom they must of
course expect in a very short time to be expelled. The
situation of the inhabitants of Boston, indeed, was pe¬
culiarly unhappy. After having failed in their attempts
oft° leave the town, General Gage had consented to al-
the inhabi- low them to retire with their effects; but afterwards,
tantsofBo-for what reason does not well appear, he refused to ful-
ston. jjjjj promiSe. When he resigned his place to General
Howe in October 177J, the latter, apprehensive that
they might give intelligence of the situation of the Bri¬
tish troops, sti’ictly prohibited any person from leaving
the place under pain of military execution. Thus mat¬
ters continued till the month of March I77^> when the
town was evacuated.
Bostons ^Je ^iat rnon^1» General Washington
merely can-°Pene^ a fiat:tery on ^ie west side of the town, from
nonaded by whence it was bombarded, with a heavy fire of cannon
the provin- at the same time 5 and three days after, it was attacked
c>ab. ky another battery from the eastern shore. This terri¬
ble attack continued for 14 days without intermission j
when General Howe, finding the place no longer te-
nible, determined if possible to derive the enemy from
their works. Preparations were therefore made for a
most vigorous attack on a hill called Dorchester Neck,
which the Americans had fortified in such a manner
as would in all probability have rendered the enter¬
prise next to desperate. No difficulties, however, were
sufficient to daunt the spirit of the general j and
every thing was in readiness, when a sudden storm pre¬
vented this intended exertion of British valour. Next
day, upon a more close inspection of the works they
were to attack, it was thought advisable to desist from
the enterprise altogether. The fortifications were very
strong, and extremely well provided with artillery j and
besides other implements of destruction, upwards of
100 hogsheads of stones were provided to roll down
«pon the enemy as they came up $ which, as the ascent
212
Miserable
R I C A. 53
was extremely steep, must have done prodigious execu- United
tion. States.
Nothing therefore now remained but to think of a * " v"
retreat j and even this was attended with the utmost l()|ace
difficulty and danger. The Americans, however, know-evacuated,
ing that it was in the power of the British general to re¬
duce the town to ashes, which could not have been re¬
paired in many years, did not think proper to give the
least molestation ; and for the space of a fortnight the
troops were employed in the evacuation of the place,
from whence they carried along with them 2000 of the
inhabitants, who durst not stay on account of their at¬
tachment to the British cause. From Boston they sailed
to Halifax j but all their vigilance could not prevent a
number of valuable ships from falling into the hands of
the enemy. A considerable quantity of cannon and am¬
munition had also been left at Bunker’s Hill and Boston
Neck ; and in the town an immense variety of goods,
principally rvoollen and linen, of which the provincials
stood very much in need. The estates of those who
fled to Halifax were confiscated ; as also those who were
attached to government, and had remained in the town.
As an attack was expected as soon as the British forces
should arrive, every method was employed to render the 3r(.
fortifications, already very strong, impregnable. For itsfortifica-
tbis purpose some foreign engineers were employed, who lions
had before arrived at Boston j and so eager were people strengthen-
of all ranks to accomplish this business, that every able-
bodied man in the place, without distinction of rank,
set apart two days in the week, to complete it the
sooner. 2x6
The Americans, , exasperated to the utmost by the Congress
proceedings of parliament, now formally renounced all ^ec*arcs
connexion with Britain, and declared themselves hide-
pendent. This celebrated declaration was published on ,iepelu{eMt>
the 4th of July 1776. Previous to this a circular letter
had been sent through each colony, stating the reasons
for it j and such was the animosity now everywhere pre¬
vailing against Great Britain, that it met with universal
approbation, except in the province of Maryland alone.
It was not long, however, before the people of that co¬
lony, finding themselves left in a very dangerous mino¬
rity, thought proper to accede to the measures of the
rest. The manifesto itself was much in the usual style,
stating a long list of grievances, for which redress had
been often applied for in vain j and for these reeasons
they determined on a final separation } to hold the peo¬
ple of Britain as the rest of mankind, “ enemies in war,
in peace friends.”
After thus publicly throwing off all allegiance and
hope of reconciliation, the colonists soon found that an
exertion of all their strength was required in order to
support their pretensions. Their arms, indeed, had
not, during this season, been attended with success, in
Canada. Reinforcements had been promised to Colonel
Arnold, who still continued the blockade of Quebec;
but they did not arrive in time to second his opera- 2
tions. Being sensible, however that he must either xhe siegt of
desist from the enterprise, or finish it successfully, he Quebec stiil
recommenced in form; attempting to burn the ship-vontinaed.
ping, and even to storm the town itself. They were
unsuccessful, however, by reason of the smallness of
their number, though they succeeded so far as to burn
a number of houses in the suburbs'; and the garrison
wer*.
54
L' in led
Stales.
21S
Canadians
defeated
by the pro-
Tinctals;
219
who are in
fcheir turn
defeated
by General
(arleton.
Humanity
of the Bri¬
tish gene¬
ral.
221
He pursues
the provin¬
cials.
A M E R
were obliged to pull down tbe remainder, in order to
prevent the fire from spreading.
As the provincials, though unable to reduce the
town, kept the garrison in continual alarms, and in a
very disagreeable situation, some of the nobility col¬
lected themselves into a body under the command of
one Mr Beaujeu, in order to relieve their capital j but
they were met on their march by the provincials, and
so entirely defeated, that they were never afterwards
able to attempt any thing. The Americans, however,
had but little reason to plume themselves on this suc¬
cess. Their want of artillery at last convinced them,
that it was impracticable in their situation to reduce a
place so strongly fortified: the smallpox at the same
time made its appearance in their camp, and carried
off great numbers; intimidating the rest to such a de¬
gree, that they deserted in crowds. To add to their
misfortunes, the British reinforcements unexpected¬
ly appeared, and the ships made their way through
the ice with such celerity, that the one part of their
army was separated from the other ; and General Carle-
ton sallying out as soon as the reinforcement was land¬
ed, obliged them to fly with the utmost precipita¬
tion, leaving behind them all their cannon and mili¬
tary stores 5 at the same time their shipping was en¬
tirely captured by vessels sent up the river for that
purpose. On this occasion the provincials fled with
such precipitation that they could not be overtaken j
so that none fell into thexhands of the British except¬
ing the sick and wounded. General Carleton now gave
a signal instance of his humanity : Being well apprised
that many of the provincials had not been able to ac¬
company the rest in their retreat, and that they were
concealed in woods, &c. in a very deplorable situation,
he generously issued a proclamation, ordering proper
persons to seek them out, and give them relief at the
public expence ; at the same time, lest, through fear of
being made prisoners, they should refuse these ofters of
humanity, he promised, that as soon as their situation
enabled them, they should be at liberty to depart to
their respective homes.
The British general, now freed from any danger of
an attack, was soon enabled to act offensively against
the provincials, by the arrival of the forces destined for
that purpose from Britain. By these he was put at
the head of 12,000 regular troops, among whom were
those of Brunswick. With this force he instantly set
out to the Three Rivers, where he expected that Ar¬
nold would have made a stand •, but he had fled to So-
rel, a place 150 miles distant from Quebec, where he
was at last met by the reinforcements ordered by con¬
gress. Here, though the preceding events were by no
means calculated to inspire much military ardour, a
very daring enterprise was undertaken $ and this was
to surprise the British troops posted here under Gene¬
rals Fraser and Nesbit; of whom the former command¬
ed those on land, the latter such as were on board of
transports and were but a little way distant. The en¬
terprise was undoubtedly very hazardous, both on ac¬
count of the strength of the parties, against whom they
were to act, and as the main body of the British forces
was advanced within 50 miles of the place ; besides
that a number of armed vessels and transports with
troops lay between them and the Three Rivers. Two
thousand chosen men, however, under General Thom*
I C A.
son, engaged in this enterprise. Their success was United
by no means answerable to their spirit and valour. < States. .
Though they passed the shipping without being obser-
ved, General Fraser had notice of their landing *, and General
thus being prepared to receive them, they were soon Thomson
thrown into disorder, at the same time that General defeated
Neshit, having landed his forces, prepared to attack ^takea
them in the rear. On this occasion some field pieces PeneraI 7
did prodigious execution, and a retreat was found to be j^ascr.
unavoidable. General Nesbit, however, had got be¬
tween them and their boats 5 so that they were obliged
to take a circuit through a deep swamp, while they
were hotlv pursued by both parties at the same time,
who marched for some miles on each side of the swamp,
till at last the miserable provincials were sheltered from
further danger by a wood at the end of the swamp.
Their general, however, was taken, with 200 of his
men. 223
By this disaster the provincials lost all hopes of ac-The pro-
complishing any thing in Canada. They demolished vincials ^
their works, and carried off their artillery with the ut-j^^al ^
most expedition. They were pursued, however, by ^urgoync>
General Burgoynej against whom it was expected that
they would have collected all their force, and made a
resolute stand. But they were now too much dispirit¬
ed by misfortune, to make any further exertions of va¬
lour. On the 18th of June the British general arrived
at Fort St John’s, which he found abandoned and
burnt. Chamblee had shared the same fate, as well as
all the vessels that were not capable of being dragged
up against the current of the river. It was thought that
they would have made some resistance at Nut Island, 22^
the entrance to Take Champlain ; but this also they but escape
had abandoned, and retreated across the lake to Crown to Crowa
Point, whither they could not be immediately follow-Pomt-
ed. Thus was the province of Canada entirely evacua¬
ted by the Americans ; whose loss in their retreat from .
Quebec was calculated at not less than 1000 men, of
whom 400 fell at once into the hands of the enemy at a
place called the Cedars, about 50 miles above Montreal.
General Sullivan, however, who conducted this retreat
after the affair of General Thomson, was acknowledged
to have had great merit in what he did, and received
the thanks of congress accordingly. 22 .
This bad success in the north, however, was some-An insur-
what compensated by what happened in the southern rection in
colonies.—We have formerly taken notice that Mr^°^.^a*
Martin, governor of North Carolina, had been obliged favour ^
to leave his province, and take refuge on board a man Britain.,
of war. Notwithstanding this, he did not despair of
reducing it again to obedience. For this purpose he
applied to the Regulators, a daring set of banditti, who
lived in a kind of independent state; and though con¬
sidered by government as rebels, yet had never been
molested, on account of their numbers and known skill
in the use of fire-arms. To the chiefs of these people
commissioners were sent, in order to raise some regi¬
ments ; and Colonel Macdonald, a brave and enterpris¬
ing officer, was appointed to command them. In the
month of February he erected the king’s standard, is¬
sued proclamations, &c. and collected some forces, ex¬
pecting to be soon joined by a body of regular troops,
who were known to be shipped from Britain to act
against the southern colonies. The Americans, sensible
of their danger, despatched immediately what forces
they
A M E
Urited they had to act against the royalists, at the same time
States, that they diligently exerted themselves to support these
 v 1 with suitable reinforcements. Their present force was
commanded by a General Moore, whose numbers were
inferior to Macdonald’s *, for which reason the latter
summoned him to join the king’s standard under pain
of being treated as a rebel. But Moore, being well
provided with cannon, and conscious that nothing
could be attempted against him, returned the compli¬
ment, by acquainting Colonel Macdonald, that if he
and his party would lay down their arms and subscribe
an oath of fidelity to congress, they should be treated
as friends ; but if they persisted in an undertaking for
which it was evident they had not sufficient strength,
they could not but expect the severest treatment. In
a few davs General Moore found himself at the head
of 8ooo men, by reason of the continual supplies which
daily arrived from all parts. The royal party amount¬
ed only to 2000, and they were destitute of artillery,
which prevented them from attacking the enemy while
they had the advantage of numbers. They were now
therefore obliged to have recourse to a desperate exer¬
tion of personal valour j by dint of which they effected
a retreat for So miles to Moor’s Creek, within 16
miles of Wilmington. Could they have gained this
place, they expected to have been joined by Governor
Martin and General Clinton, who had lately arrived
with a considerable detachment. But Moore with his
army pursued them so close, that they were obliged
to attempt the passage of the creek itself, though a
considerable body of the enemy, under the command
of Colonel Coswell, with fortifications well planted
with cannon, was posted on the other side. On at¬
tempting the creek, however, it was found not to be
fordable. They were obliged therefore to cross over
a wooden bridge which the provincials had not time
to destroy entirely. They had, however, by pulling
up part of the planks, and greasing the remainder in
order to render them slippery, made the passage so dif¬
ficult, that the royalists could not attempt it. In this
situation they were, on the 27th of February, attacked
by Moore, with his superior army, and totally defeated,
with the loss of their genera! and most of their leaders,
as weU as the best and bravest of their men.
**7 Thus was the power of the provincials established in
more final” ■^or^1 Carolina. Nor were they less successful in the
iy driven province of Virginia ; where Lord Dunmore, having
vutof'Vir- long continued an useless predatory war, was at last
giaia. driven from every creek and road in the province. The
people he had on board were distressed to the highest
degree by confinement in small vessels. The heat of
the season, and the numbers crowded together, pro¬
duced a pestilential fever, which made great havock,
especially among the blacks. At last, finding them¬
selves in the utmost hazard of perishing by famine as
well as by disease, they set fire to the least valuable of
their vessels, reserving only about 50 for themselves, in
which they bade a final adieu to Virginia, some sailing
to tlorida, some to Bermuda, and the rest to the West
Indies.
In South Carolina the provincials had a more for¬
midable enemy to deal with. A squadron, whose ob-
*entagainstj60*" was ^ie re<ffiction of Charlestown, had been fitted
Charles- out in December 1775 j but by reason of unfavourable
tvwn, weather did not reach Cape Fear in North Carolina
55
2*6
The roy¬
alists en¬
tirely de¬
bated.
V8
British ar¬
mament
RICA.
till the month of May 1776: and here it met with linked
further obstacles till the end of the month. Thus the States.
Americans, always noted for their alertness in raising
fortifications, had time to strengthen those of Charles¬
town in such a manner as rendered it extremely diffi¬
cult to be attacked. The British squadron consisted
of two 50 gun ships, four of 30 guns, two of 20, an
armed schooner and bomb-ketch ; all under the com¬
mand of Sir Peter Parker. The land forces were
commanded by Lord Cornwallis, with General Clin¬
ton and Vaughan. As they bad yet no intelligence of
the evacuation of Boston, General Howe despatched a
vessel to Cape Fear with some instructions j but it was
too late j and in the beginning of June the squadron
anchored oft’ Charlestown bar. Here they met with
some difficulty in crossing, being obliged to take out
the guns from the two large ships, which were, not¬
withstanding, several times in danger of sticking fast.
The next obstacle was a strong fort on Sullivan’s island,
six miles east from Charlestown ; which, though not
completely finished, was very strong. However, the
British generals resolved without hesitation to attack
it; but though an attack was easy from the sea, it was
very difficult to obtain a co-operation of the land
forces. This was attempted by landing them on
Long Island, adjacent to Sullivan’s Island on the east,
from which it is separated by a very narrow creek, said
not to be above two feet deep at low water. Opposite
to this ford the provincials had posted a strong body of
troops, with cannon and intrenchments ; while Gene¬
ral Lee was posted on the main land, with a bridge of
boats betwixt that and Sullivan’s Island, so that he
could at pleasure send reinforcements to the troops in
the fort on Sullivan’s Island.
On the part of the British, so many delays occurred,
that it was the 28th of June before matters were in
readiness for an attack $ and by this time the provin¬
cials had abundantly provided for their reception. On
the morning of that day the bomb-ketch began to
throw shells into Fort Sullivan, and about mid-day the
two 50 gun ships and 30 gun frigates came up and
began a severe fire. Three other frigates were ordered
to take their station between Charlestown and the fort,
in order to enfilade the batteries, and cut oft’ the com¬
munication with the main land •, but through the igno¬
rance of the pilots they all stuck fast; and though two
of them were disentangled, they rvere found to be total¬
ly unfit for service: the third was burnt, that she might
not fall into the hands of the enemy.
The attack was therefore confined to the five armed The fleet
ships and bomb-ketch, between whom and the fort amakeafu-
dreadful fire ensued. The Bristol suffered excessively.110115 at"
The springs on her cable being shot away, she was for
some time entirely exposed to the enemy’s fire. As
the enemy poured in great quantities of red-hot balls,
she was twice in flames. The captain (Mr Morriss), Brav*e‘^ of-
alter receiving five wounds, was obliged to go below Captain
deck in order to have his arm amputated. After un-Morris,
dergoing this operation he returned to his place, where
he received another wound, hut still refused to quit
his station : at last he received a red-hot ball in his
belly, which instantly put an end to his life. Of all
the officers and seamen who stood on the quarter-deck
of this vessel, not one escaped without a wound, ex¬
cepting Sir Peter Parker alone 5 whose intrepidity and
presence
,56
United
States,
33i
The Bri¬
tish repul-
-serf*
2t2
Americaus
form a
HaTr.
A M E
presence of mind on this occasion were very remarkable.
The engagement lasted till darkness put an end to it.
Little damage was done by the British, as the woiks
of the enemy lay so low that many of the shot flev»
over 5 and the fortifications, being composed of palm-
trees mixed with earth, were extremely well calculated
to resist the impression of cannon. During the height
of the attack, the provincial batteries remained for
some time silent, so that it was concluded that they
had been abandoned : but this was found to proceed
only from want of powder; for as soon as a supply of
this necessary article was obtained, the firing was re¬
sumed as brisk as before. During the whole of this
desperate engagement it was found impossible for the
land forces to give the least assistance to the fleet. The
enemy’s works were found to be much stronger than
they had been imagined, and the depth of water effec¬
tually prevented them from making any attempt. In
this unsuccessful attack the killed and wounded on the
part of the British amounted to about 200. The Bri¬
stol and Experiment were so much damaged, that it
was thought they could not have been got over the
bar 5 however, this was at last accomplished by a very
great exertion of naval skill, to the surprise of the pro¬
vincials, who had expected to make them both prizes.
On the American side the loss rvas judged to have been
very considerable, as most of their guns were dismount¬
ed/and reinforcements had poured into the fort during
the whole time of the action.
This year also, the Americans, having so frequently
made trial of their valour by land, became desirous of
trying it by sea also, and of forming a navy that might
in some measure be able to protect their trade, and do
essential hurt to the enemy. In the beginning of
March, Commodore Hopkins was dispatched with five
frigates to the Bahama islands, where he made himself
master of the ordnance and military stores 5 but the
gunpowder, which had been the principal object, was
removed. On his return he captured several vessels;
but was foiled in his attempt on the Glasgow frigate,
which found means to escape notwithstanding the ef¬
forts of his whole squadron.
The time, however, was now come when the forti¬
tude and patience of the Americans were to undergo a
severe trial. Hitherto they had been on the whole suc¬
cessful in their operations : but now they were doomed
to experience misfortune, misery, and disgrace *, the
enemy overrunning their country, and their own ar¬
mies not able to face them in the field. The province
Armament New York, as being the most central colony, and
sent against most accessible by sea, was pitched upon for the object
New York, of the main attack. The force sent against it consisted
of 6 ships of the line, 30 frigates, besides other armed
vessels, and a vast number of transports. The fleet
was commanded by Lord Howe, and the land forces
by his brother General Howe, who was now at Hali¬
fax. The latter, however, a considerable time before
his brother arrived, had set sail from Halifax, and
lay before New York, but without attempting to
commence hostilities until he should be joined by his
brother. The Americans had, according to custom,
234 fortified New York, and the adjacent islands, in an
®^eer^nds extraordinary manner. However, General Howe was
on Staten suffered to land his troops on Staten Island, where he
Island, was soon joined by a number of the inhabitants.
United
States.
235
II I C A.
bout the middle of July, Lord Howe arrived with the
grand armament ; and being one of the commissioners
appointed to receive the submission of the colonists, he
published a circular letter to this purpose to the several
governors who had lately been expelled from their pro¬
vinces, desiring them to make the extent of his com¬
mission, and the powers he was invested with by par¬
liament, as public as possible. Here, however, con¬
gress saved him trouble, by ordering his letter and
declaration to be published in all the newspapers, that
every one, as they said, might see the insidiousness of
the British ministry, and that they had nothing to trust
to besides the exertion of their own valour.
Lord Howe next sent a letter to General Washing-Genera!
ton; but as it was directed “ To George Washington,
Esq.” the general refused to accept of it, as not be-^
ing directed in the style suitable to his station. Tofrom
obviate this objection, Adjutant-general Paterson was Howe,
sent with another letter, directed “ To George Wash¬
ington, &c. &c. &c.” But though a very polite re¬
ception was given the bearer, General Washington ut¬
terly refused the letter ; nor could any explanation of
the adjutant induce him to accept of it. The only
interesting part of the conversation was that relating to
the powers of the commissioners, of which Lord Howe
was one. The adjutant told him, that these powers
were very extensive ; that the commissioners were de¬
termined to exert themselves to the utmost, in order to
bring about a reconciliation ; and that he hoped the
general would consider this visit as a step towards it.
General Washington replied, That it did not appear
that these powers consisted in any thing else than grant¬
ing pardons; and as America had committed no of¬
fence, she asked no forgiveness, and was only defending
her unquestionable rights. 2^6
The decision of every thing being now, by consent Hostilities
of both parties, left to the sword, no time was lost,commence*
but hostilities commenced as soon as the British troops
could be collected. This, however, was not done be¬
fore the month of August; when they landed without
any opposition on Long Island, opposite to the shore
of Staten Island. General Putnam, with a large body Situation
of troops, lay encamped and strongly fortified on aoftbeBri-
peninsula on the opposite shore, with a range of hills1*8*1
between the armies, the principal pass of which wasarmiesU
near a place called Flat-bush. Here the centre of the
British army, consisting of Hessians, took post ; the
left wing, under General Grant, lying near the shore;
and the right, consisting of the greater part of the
British forces, lay under Lords Percy, Cornwallis, and
Genei’al Clinton. Putman had ordered the passes to
be secured by large detachments, which was executed
as to those at hand ; but one of the utmost importance,
that lay at a distance, was entirely neglected. This
gave an opportunity to a large body of troops under
Lord Percy and Clinton to pass the mountains and
attack the Americans in the rear, while they were en¬
gaged with the Hessians in front. Through this piece
of negligence their defeat became inevitable. Those
who were engaged with the Hessians first perceived
their mistake, and began a retreat towards their
camp ; but the passage was intercepted by the British
troops, who drove them back into the woods. Here
they wei'e met by the Hessians ; and thus were they for
many hours slaughtered between the two parties, n©
•wav
Uuited
States.
238
The Ame¬
ricans de-
*39
They aban
don their
A M E
way of escape remaining but by breaking through the
British troops, and thus regaining their camp. In this
attempt many perished 5 and the right wing, engaged
with General Grant, shared the same fate. The victory
was complete j and the Americans lost on this fatal
feated with day (August 27th,) between 3000 and 4000 men, of
great whom 2000 were killed in the battle or pursuit. A-
slanghter. m011g, tjiese a regiment, consisting of young gentlemen
of fortune and family in Maryland, was almost entirely
cut in pieces, and of the survivors not one escaped
without a wound.
The ardour of the British troops was now so great,
that they could scarcely be restrained from attacking
the lines of the provincials •, but for this there was now
no occasion, as it was certain they could not be de¬
fended. Of the British only 6t were killed in this en¬
gagement, and 257 wounded. Eleven hundred of the
enemy, among whom were three generals, were taken
prisoners.
As none of the American commanders thought it
proper to risk another attack, it was resolved to aban-
fhAt ‘n 1 ^ie don their camp as soon as possible. Accordingly, on
the night of the 29th of August, the whole of the con¬
tinental troops were ferried over with the utmost secre¬
cy and silence ; so that in the morning the British had
nothing to do hut take possession of the camp and artil-
lery which had been abandoned.
Lord Howe This victory, though complete, was very far from
sends a. being so decisive as the conquerors imagined. Eord
Message to Howe, supposing that it would be sufficient to intimi-
congiess, ^jie conSrress jnt0 some terms, sent General Sulli¬
van, who had been taken prisoner in the late action, to
congress, with a message, importing, that though he
could not consistently treat with them as a legal assem¬
bly, yet he would be very glad to confer with any of
the members in their private capacity j setting forth
at the same time the nature and extent of his powers
as commissioner. But the congress were not as yet
sufficiently humbled to derogate in the least from the
dignity of character they had assumed. They replied,
That the congress of the free and independent states of
America could not consistently send any of its mem-
24! hers in another capacity than that which they had pub-
and is wait-licly assumed ; but as they were extremely desirous of
edon by a restoring peace to their country upon equitable condi¬
tions, they would appoint a committee of their body
to wait upon him, and learn what proposals he had to
make.
This produced a new conference. The committee
appointed by congress was composed of Dr Franklin,
Mr Adams, and Mr Rutledge. They were very po¬
litely received by his lordship j but the conference
proved as fruitless as before independency had been de¬
clared, and the final answer of the deputies was, That
they were extremely willing to enter into any treaty
with Great Britain that might conduce to the good of
The confer-both nations, but that they would not treat in any
«nee terrai-other character than that of independent states. This
fectnal]1^* Pos^ve declaration instantly put an end to all hopes of
-v' reconciliation ; and it was resolved to prosecute the war
with the utmost vigour. Ford Howe, after publishing
a manifesto, in which lie declared the refusal of con¬
gress, and that he himself was willing to confer with all
well-disposed persons about the means of restoring pu¬
blic tranquillity, set about the most proper methods for
Vol. II. Part I. f
commit
tee,
242
*43
RICA.
reducing the city of New York. Here the provincial
troops were posted, and from a great number of bat¬
teries kept continually annoying the British shipping.
The East River lay between them, of about 1200 yards
in breadth, which the British troops were extremely
desirous of passing. At last the ships having, after an
incessant cannonade of several days, silenced the most
troublesome batteries, a body of troops was sent up
the river to a bay, about three miles distant, where the
fortifications were less strong than in other places.
Here having driven off the provincials by the cannon
of the fleet, they marched directly towards the city 5
but the enemy, finding that they should now be attack¬
ed on all sides, abandoned the city, and retired to the New York
north of the island, where their principal force was abandoned
collected. In their passage thither they skirmished
with the British, but carefully avoided a general en¬
gagement 5 and it was observed that they did not be¬
have with that ardour and impetuous valour which had
hitherto marked their character. 244
The British and provincial armies were not now Situation
above two miles distant from each other. The former 0f ^,e ^ri“
lay encamped from shore to shore for an extent of two ^meriean
miles, being the breadth of the island, which, though arm{es,
I 5 miles long, exceeds not two in any part in breadth,
The provincials, who lay directly opposite, had strength¬
ened their camp with many fortifications $ at the same
time, being masters of all the passes and defiles be¬
twixt the two camps, they were enabled to defend
themselves against an army much more numerous than
their own : and they had also strongly fortified a pass
called King's Bridge, whence they could secure a pas¬
sage to the continent in case of any misfortune. Here
General Washington, in order to inure the provincials
to actual service, and at the same time to annoy the
enemy as much as possible, employed bis troops in con¬
tinual skirmishes j by which it was observed that they
soon recovered their spirits, and behaved with their
usual boldness.
As the situation of the two armies was now highly
inconvenient for the Bi'itish generals, it was resolved
to make such movements as might oblige General
Washington to relinquish his strong situation. The
possession of New York had been less beneficial than
was expected. It had been concerted among the pro¬
vincials, that the city should be burnt at the time of
evacuation ; but as they were forced to depart with
precipitation, they were prevented from putting the
scheme in execution. In a few days, however, it wasj4ew
attempted by some who had been left behind for thatset on fire
purpose. Taking advantage of a high wind and dry by the pro-
vveather, the town was set on fire in several places atv*ac‘al5,
once, by means of combustibles properly placed for
that purpose; and notwithstanding the most active ex¬
ertions of the soldiery and sailors, a fourth part of the
city was consumed.
On this occasion the British were instated to the
highest degree; and many persons, said to be incen¬
diaries, were without mercy thrown into the flames.
It was determined to force the provincial army to a
greater distance, that they might have it less in their
power, by any emissaries, to engage others in a similar
attempt. For this purpose, General Howe having left *
Lord Percy with sufficient force to garrison New York,
he embarked his army in flat-bottomed boats, by which,
x II they
53
linked
States.
245
General
Washin
to remove
farther
from New
York.
247
Plains.
they were conveyed through the dangerous passage
called Hell Gate, and landed near the town ot West
Chester, lying on the continent towards Connecticut,
liere, having received a supply of men and provisions,
they moved to New Rochelle, situated on the sound
ton obliged which separates Long Island from the continent. Af¬
ter this, receiving still fresh reinforcements, they made
such movements as threatened to distress the provin¬
cials very much, by cutting off their convoys of provi¬
sions from Connecticut, and thus force them to an en¬
gagement. This, however, General Washington de¬
termined at all events to avoid. He therefore extend¬
ed his forces into a long line opposite to the way in
which the enemy marched, keeping the Bruna, a river
of considerable magnitude, between the two armies,
with the North River on his rear. Here again the
provincials continued for some time to annoy and skir¬
mish with the royal army, until at last, by some other
manoeuvres, the British general found means to attack
Is defeated them advantageously at a place called the White Plains,
at White an(j Jj-ove them from some of their posts. The victory
on this occasion was much less complete than the for¬
mer; however, it obliged the provincials once more to
shift their ground, and to retreat farther up the country.
General Ilowe pursued for sometime ; but at last find¬
ing all his endeavours vain to bring the Americans to
a pitched battle, he determined to give over such an
useless chase, and employ himself in reducing the forts
which the provincials still retained in the neighbour¬
hood of New York. In this he met with the most
complete success. The Americans, on the approach
of the king’s force, retreated from King’s Bridge into
Fort Washington; and this, as well as Fort Lee, which
lay in the neighbourhood, was quickly reduced, though
the garrison made their escape. Thus the Jerseys were
seys entire-lai(l entirely open to the incursions of the British troops ;
by the'Bid anc^ 80 were these provinces taken possession of by
tiki troops. ^,e royal army, that its winter quarters extended from
New Brunswick to the river Delaware. Had any num¬
ber of boats been at hand, it is probable that Philadel-
phii would now have fallen into their hands. All
these, however, had been carefully removed by the A-
mericans. In lieu of this enterprise, Sir Henry Clinton
undertook an expedition to Rhode Island, and became
master of it without losing a man. His expedition was
also attended with this furtlrer advantage, that the Ame¬
rican fleet under Commodore Hopkins was obliged to
sail as far as possible up the river Providence, and thus
remained entirely useless.
The same ill success continued to attend the Ameri¬
cans in other parts. After their expulsion from Ca¬
nada, they had crossed the lake Champlain, and taken
up their quarters at Crown Point, as we have already
mentioned. Here they remained for some time in
safety, as the British had no vessels on the lake, and
250 consequently General Burgoyne could not pursue them.
The British To remedy this deficiency, there was no possible me-
vesselsu ^hod, but either to construct vessels on the spot, or
toTake^ ta^e to P*eces sonie vessels already constructed, and
Cham plain. drag 'h61'-1 UP liver into the lake. This, however,
was effected in no longer a space than three months ;
and the British general, after incredible toil and diffi¬
culty, saw himself in possession of a great number of
vessels, by which means he was enabled to pursue his
enemies, and invade them in his turn. The labour
United
States.
24S
The Jer-
249
Rhode
Island
taken.
AMERICA.
undergone at this time by the sea and land forces must
indeed have been prodigious ; since there were con¬
veyed over land, and dragged up the rapids oi St Law¬
rence, no fewer than 30 large long boats, 40c hat-
teaux, besides a vast number of flat-bottomed boats,
and a gondola of 30 tons. The intent of the expedition
was to push forward before winter to Albany, where
the army would take up its winter quarters, and next
spring effect a junction with that under General Howe,
when it was not doubted that the united forces and skill
of these two commanders would speedily put a termina¬
tion to the war.
By reason of the difficulties with which the equip¬
ment of this fleet had been attended, it was the begin¬
ning of October before the expedition could he under¬
taken. It was now, however, by every judge allowed
to be completely able to answer the purpose for which
it was intended. It consisted of one large vessel with
three masts, carrying 18 twelve pounders; two schoon¬
ers, the one carrying 14, the other 12 six pounders ;
a large flat-bottomed radeau with 6 twenty-four and 6
twelve pounders ; and a gondola with 8 nine pounders.
Besides these were 20 vesssels of a smaller si/.e, called
gun-bents, carrying each a piece of brass ordnance from
9 to 24 pounders, or howitzers. Several long-boats
were fitted out in the same manner ; and besides all
these, there was a vast number of boats and tenders,
of various sizes, to be used as transports for the troops
and baggage. It was manned by a number of select
seamen, and the guns were to he served by a detach¬
ment from the corps of artillery ; the officers and sol¬
diers appointed for this expedition were also chosen out
of the whole army.
To oppose this formidable armament the Americans Destroy tlie
had only a very inconsiderable force, commanded by naval force
General Arnold ; who, after engaging part of the Bri- lil.e Pro*
tish fleet for a whole day, took advantage of the dark-'incia^s'
ness of the night to set sail without being perceived,
and next morning was out of sight : but he was so hot¬
ly pursued by the British, that on the second day af¬
ter he was overtaken, and forced to a second engage¬
ment. hi this he behaved with great gallantry ; but
his force being very inferior to that of the enemy, he
was obliged to run his ships ashore and set them on fire.
A few onlv escaped to Lake George; and the garrison
of Crown Point having destroyed or carried off every
thinsr of value, retired to Ticonderago. Thither Ge-
25*
neral Carleton intended to have pursued them ; but
the difficulties he had to encounter appeared so many
and so great, that it was thought proper to march back
into Canada, and desist from any further operations till
next spring. _ > 251
Thus the affairs of the Americans seemed everywhere xhe Ame-
going to wreck: even those who had been most san-ricans al-
guine in their cause began to waver. The time, also, ™ost; en"
for which the soldiers had enlisted themselves was now
x rerseti*
expired; and the bad success of the preceding cam-1
paign had been so very discouraging, that no person
was willing to engage himself during the continuance
of a war, of which the event seemed to be so doubtful.
In consequence of this, therefore, General Washington
found his army daily decreasing in strength ; so that
from 30,000, of which it consisted when General Howe
landed on Staten Island, scarce a tenth part could now
be mustered. To assist the chief commander as much
United
States.
. *53
General
army for
I777*
A M E
as possible, General Lee had collected a body of forces
in the north ; but on his way southward, having im¬
prudently taken up his lodging at some distance from
his troops, information was given to Colonel Harcourt,
who happened at that time to be in the neighbourhood,
and Lee was made prisoner. The loss of this general
Lee taken was much regretted, the more especially as he was of
prisoner. superior quality to any prisoner in the possession of the
colonists, and could not therefore be exchanged. Six
field officers were oft’ered in exchange for him, and re¬
fused; and the congress was highly irritated, at its be¬
ing reported that he was to be treated as a deserter,
having been a half-pay officer in the British service at
the commencement of the war. In consequence of this
they issued a proclamation, threatening to retaliate on
the prisoners in their possession whatever punishment
should be inflicted on any of those taken by the British,
and especially that their conduct should be regulated by
254 the treatment of General Lee.
Continental Jn tlJe mean time they proceeded with the most in¬
defatigable diligence to recruit their army, and bound
their soldiers to serve for a term of three years, or du¬
ring the continuance of the war. The army designed
for the ensuing campaign was to consist of 88 batta¬
lions ; of which each province was to contribute its
quota 5 and 20 dollars were offered as a bounty to
each soldier, besides an allotment of lands at the end
of the war. In this allotment it was stipulated, that
each soldier should have 100 acres; an ensign 150 ; a
lieutenant 200 ; a captain 300; a major 400 ; a lieu¬
tenant-colonel 450 ; and a colonel 500. No lands
were promised to those whoinlisted only for three years.
All officers or soldiers disabled through wounds receiv¬
ed in the service were to enjov half-pay during life.
To defray the expence, congress borrowed five mil¬
lions of dollars at five per cent.; for payment of which
the United States became surety. At the same time,
in order to animate the people to vigorous exertions, a
declaration was published, in which they set forth the
necessity there was for taking proper methods to ensure
success in their cause : they endeavoured to palliate as
much as possible the misfortunes which had already
happened ; and represented the true cause of the pre¬
sent distress to be the short term of inlistment.
This declaration, together with the imminent dan¬
ger of Philadelphia, determined the Americans to exert
themselves to the utmost in order to reinforce General
Washington’s army. They soon received farther en¬
couragement however, by an exploit of that general
against the Hessians. As the royal army extended in
different cantonments for a great way, General Wash¬
ington, perceiving the imminent danger to which Phi¬
ladelphia was exposed, resolved to make some attempt
on those divisions of the enemy which lay nearest that
city. These happened to be the Hessians, who lay in
three divisions, the last only 20 miles distant from Phi¬
ladelphia. On the 25th of December, having collect¬
ed as considerable a force as he could, he set out with
an intent to surprise that body of the enemy who lay
at Trenton. His army was divided into three bodies ;
one of which he ordered to cross the Delaware at
Trenton Ferry, a little below the town ; the second at
agood distance below, at a place called Bordentoivn,
where the second division of Hessians was placed ; while
he himself with the third, directing his course to a fer-
*55
RICA.
ry some miles above Trenton, intended to have passed
it at midnight, and attacked the Hessians at break of
day. But by reason of various impediments, it was
eight in the morning before he could reach the place of
his destination. The enemy, however, did not perceive
his approach till they were suddenly attacked. Colo¬
nel Balie, who commanded them, did all that could
be expected from a brave and experienced officer ; but
every thing was in suclr confusion, that no eft’orts of
valour or skill could now retrieve matters. The colo¬
nel himself was mortally wounded, his troops were en¬
tirely broken, their artillery seized, and about 1000
taken prisoners.
This action, though seemingly of no very decisive
nature, was sufficient at that time to turn the fortune
of war in favour of America. It tended greatly to les¬
sen the fear which the provincials had of the Hessians,
at the same time that it equally abated the confidence
which the British had till now put in them. Rein¬
forcements came in to General Washington’s army from
all quarters ; so that he was soon in a condition to
leave Philadelphia, and take up his quarters at Tren¬
ton. Emboldened by his success, he determined to
make an attempt on a division of the British forces sta-^notker at-
tioned at Maidenhead, a town situated half way be-tempt on
tween Trenton and Princetown. This consisted of three tJiree ®.r‘*
regiments under the command of Colonel Mawbood,
an officer of great merit. The troops were surprised
on their march: but though they were separately sur-butthfy
rounded and attacked by a force so vastly superior,make good
they charged the enemy so resolutely with their bayo-tbelr te¬
nets, that they effected a retreat. These attempts 0ftreat
the Americans, however, with the hostile disposition
of the people, showed the impossibility of maintaining
posts so far advanced in the enemy’s country J so that
it was resolved to retreat towards Brunswick, in order
to prevent it, with the troops and magazines it contain¬
ed, from falling into the hands of the provincials.
General Washington lost no opportunity of recovering
what had been lost ; and, by dividing his army into
small parties, which could be reunited on a few hours
warning, he in a manner entirely covered the country
with it, and repossessed himself of all the important
places.
Thus ended the campaign of 1776, with scarce any
real advantage, other than the acquisition of the city
of New York, and of a few fortresses in its neighbour¬
hood ; where the troops were constrained to act with
as much circumspection as if they had been besieged
by a victorious army, instead of being themselves the
conquerors.
The army at New York began in 1777 to exercise r* ,
. . . , . b ,, ' ' ' . Excursions
a kind ot predatory war, by sending out parties to de-0fthe Bri-
stroy magazines, make incursions, and take or destroy tish from
such forts as lay on the banks of rivers, to which their York,
great command of shipping gave them access. In this
they were generally successful : the provincial maga¬
zines at Peek’s Hill, a place about 50 miles distant
from New York, were destroyed, the town of Dun-
bury in Connecticut burnt, and that of Ridgefield in
the same province was taken possession of. In return¬
ing from the last expedition, however, the British were
greatly harassed by the enemy under Generals Arnold,
Wooster, and Sullivan ; but they made good their re¬
treat in spite of all opposition, with the loss of only 170
H 2 killed
6o
United
States.
258
General
A M E
killed ami wounded. On the American side the loss
was much greater j General Wooster was killed, and
Arnold in the most imminent danger. On the other
hand, the Americans destroyed the stores at Sagg har¬
bour, in Long Island, and made prisoners ci all who
defended the place.
As this method of making war, however, could an¬
swer but little purpose, and savoured more of the bar¬
barous incursions ol savages than ot a war carried on by
a civilized people, it was resolved to make an attempt
on Philadelphia. At first it was thought that this
could be done through the Jerseys j but General Wash¬
ington had received such large reinforcements, and
posted himself so strongly, that it was found to be im¬
practicable. Many stratagems were used to draw him
from this strong situation, but without success ; so that
it was found necessary to make the attempt on Phila-
—delphia by sea. While the preparations necessary for
Prescot ta- this expedition were going forward, the Americans
ken pri- found means to make amends for the capture of Gene-
*0Uer' ral Lee by that of General Prescot, who was seized in
las quarters with his aid de-camp, in much the same
manner as General Lee had been. ibis was exceed¬
ingly mortifying to the general himself, as he had not
long ago set a price upon General Arnold himself, by
offering a sum of money to any one that apprehended
him } which (he latter answered by setting a lower
price upon General Prescot.
The month of July was far advanced before the pre¬
parations for the expedition against Philadelphia were
completed *, and it was the 23d before the fleet was
able to sail from Sandy Hook. The force employed
in this expedition consisted of 36 battalions of British
and Hessians, a regiment of light horse, and a body of
loyalists raised at New York. The remainder of these,
with jy battalions, and another fiody *>f light horse,
was stationed at New York under Sir Henry Clinton.
Seven battalions were stationed at Rhode Island. Af¬
ter a week’s sailing they arrived at the mouth of the
Delaware*, but there received certain intelligence, that
the navigation of the river was so etfectually obstruct¬
ed, that no possibility of forcing a passage remained.
Upon this it was resolved to proceed farther southward
to Cbesapeak hay in Maryland, from whence the di¬
stance to Philadelphia was not very great, and where
the provincial army would find less advantage from the
nature of the country than in the Jerseys.
The navigation from Delaware to Chesapeak took
up the best part of the month of August, and that up
K ! C A.
of the British troops ; and it was only through the ap- United
proach of night that they were saved from being en- States,
tirely destroyed. On this occasion the piovincials lost
about 1000 in killed and wounded, besides 400 tar-en
259
The fleet
sails for
Philadel¬
phia.
260
' l ~ I   '       7  
The army the bay itself was extremely difficult and tedious. At
lands at the ]ast ]iavjn„ sa;),Jd Up the river Elk as far as was prac-
headoftke - - - - ^ p
Elk.
261
The Ame¬
ricans de¬
feated.
ticable, the troops were landed without opposition, and
set forward on their intended expedition. On the
news of their arrival in Chesapeak, General Washing¬
ton left the Jerseys, and hastened to the relief of Phi¬
ladelphia •, and in the beginning of September met the
royal army at Brandy-wine Creek, about mid-way be¬
tween the head of the Elk and Philadelphia. Here
he adhered to his former method of skirmishing and
harassing the royal army on its march ; but as this
proved insufficient to stop its progress, he retired to
that side of the creek next to Philadelphia, with an in¬
tent to dispute the passage. This brought on a general
engagement on the nth of September, in which the
Americans were worsted through the superior discipline
prisoners. r tji •
The loss of this battle proved also the loss of Phi¬
ladelphia. General Washington retired toward Lan¬
caster, an inland town at a considerable distance from
Philadelphia. Here, however, the British general took
such measures as must have forced the provincials to a
second engagement-, but a violent rain, which lasted
a day and a night, prevented his design. General
Washington, though he could not prevent the loss of
Philadelphia, still adhered to his original plan of di¬
stressing the royal party, by laying ambushes and cut-
ting off detached parties: but in this he was less suc-An Ameri_
cessful than formerly $ and one of his own detachments,can ,jetac}j.
which lay in ambush in a wood, were themselves sur-ment sur.
prised and entirely defeated, with the loss of 300 kiHedP«^d and
and wounded, besides a great number taken, and g,^at
their arms and baggage. _ slaughter.
General Howe now perceiving that the Americans 263
would not venture another battle even for the sake
their capital, took peaceable possession of it on the
26th of September. His first care was then to cut0f philadel-
ofl‘, by means of strong batteries, the communication phia.
between the upper and lower parts of the river: which
was executed notwithstanding the opposition of some
American armed vessels } one of which, carrying 36
guns, was taken. His next task was to open a com¬
munication with it by sea j and this was a work of no
small difficulty. A vast number ot batteries and forts
had been erected, and immense machines formed like
chevaux defri'ze, from whence they took their name,
sunk in the river to prevent its navigation. As the
fleet was sent round to the mouth of the river in
order to co-operate with the army, this work, how¬
ever difficult, was accomplished \ nor did the provin¬
cials give much opposition, as well knowing that all
places of this kind were now untenable. General
Washington, however, took the advantage of the royal
army being divided, to attack the camp of the princi-1T1y Attack-
pal division of it that lay at German-town in tiie neigh-ed at Ger-
bourhood of Philadelphia. In this he met with very man-town,
little success-, for though he reached the place of desti¬
nation by three o’clock in the morning, the patrols
had time to call the troops to arms. The Americans,
notwithstanding, made a very resolute attack 5 but they
were received with such bravery, that they were com-
pelled to abandon the attempt, and retreat in great The Ame-
disorder -, with the advantage, however, of carrying 0ffncans de-
their cannon, though pursued for a considerable way, ca et*
after having 300 killed, 600 wounded, and upwards ol
V400 taken prisoners, among whom were 54 officers.
On the British side, the loss amounted to 430 wounded
and prisoners, and 70 killed ; but among the last were
General Agnew and Colonel Bird, with somq other
excellent officers.
There still remained two strong forts on the Dela¬
ware to he reduced. These were Mud Island and Red
Bank. The various obstructions which the Ameri¬
cans had thrown in the way rendered it necessary to
bring up the Augusta, a ship of the line, and the
Merfin frigate, to the attack of Mud Island j bat du¬
ring the heat of action both were grounded. Upon
this
AMERICA.
61
z66
Two Bri¬
tish ships
of war
burnt.
367
AU the
forts near
Philadel¬
phia redu¬
ced.
2(58
Expedition
projected
against
NewEng-
iand.
269
General
Burgoyne
joined by
the Iiuli-
this t'ne Americans sent down four fire-ships, and di¬
rected the whole fire from their galleys against them.
The former were rendered ineffectual by the courage
and skill of the British seamen ; but during the en¬
gagement both the Augusta and Merlin took fire and
were burnt to ashes, and the other ships obliged to
withdraw. The enemy, encouraged by this unsuccess¬
ful attempt, proceeded to throw new obstructions in
the way j but the British general having found means
to convey a number of cannon, and to erect batteries
within gunshot of the fort by land, and bringing up
three ships of the line which mounted heavy cannon,
the garrison, after making a vigorous defence tor one
day, perceiving that preparations were making for a
general assault on the next, abandoned the place in the
night. Those who defended Red Bank followed their
example, and abandoned it on the approach of Lord
Cornwallis. A great number of the American shipping
now finding themselves entirely destitute of any pro¬
tection, sailed up the river in the night time. Seven¬
teen however remained, whose retreat was intercepted
by a frigate and some armed vessels ; on which the
Americans ran them ashore and burnt them, to prevent
their falling into the enemy’s hands.
Thus the campaign of 1777 in Pennsylvania conclu¬
ded successfully on the part of the British. In the
north, however, matters wore a different aspect. The
expedition in that quarter had been projected by the
British ministry as the most effectual method that could
he taken to crush the colonies at once. The four pro¬
vinces of New England had originally begun the con¬
federacy against Britain, and were still considered as
the most active in the continuation of it •, and it was
thought that auy impression made upon them would
contribute in an effectual manner to the reduction of
all the rest. For this purpose, an army of 4000 cho¬
sen British troops and 3000 Germans was put under
the command of General Burgoyne j General Carleton
was directed to use his interest with the Indians to per¬
suade them to join in this expedition j and the province
of Quebec was to furnish large parties to join in the
same. The officers who commanded under General
Burgoyne were General Philips of the artillery. Gene¬
rals Fraser, Povvel, and Hamilton, with the German
officers, Generals lleidesel and Sprecht. The soldiers,
as has already been observed, were all excellently dis¬
ciplined, and had been kept in their winter-quarters
with all imaginable care, in order to prepare them for
the expedition on which they were going. To aid the
principal expedition, another was projected on the
Mohawk river under Colonel St Leger, who was to be
assisted by Sir John Johnson, son to the famous Sir
William Johnson, who had so greatly distinguished
himself in the war of 1755.
On the 21st of June 1777, the army encamped on
the western side of the lake Champlain j where being
joined by a considerable body of Indians, General Bur¬
goyne made a speech, in which he exhorted those new
allies to lay aside their ferocious and barbarous man¬
ner of making war ; to kill only such as opposed them
in arms ; and to spare prisoners, with such women and
child ren as should fall into their hands. After issuing
a proclamation, in which the force of Britain and that
which he commanded was set forth in very ostentatious
terms, the campaign opened with the siege of TiconT
2
derago. The place was very strong, and garrisoned United
by 6000 men under General Sinclair; nevertheless the States,
works were so extensive, that even this number was v 1
scarce sufficient to defend them properly. They had
therefore omitted to fortify a rugged eminence calledg0 besieged
Sugar HiU, the top of which overlooked and effectual-and taken,
ly commanded the whole works; vainly imagining that
the difficulty of the ascent would be sufficient to pre¬
vent the enemy from taking possession of it. On the
approach of the first division of the army, the provin¬
cials abandoned and set fire to their outworks •, and so
expeditious were the British troops, that by the 5tli
of July every post was secured which was judged ne¬
cessary for investing it completely. A road was soon
after made to the very summit of that eminence which
the Americans had with such confidence supposed could
not be ascended ; and so much were they now disheart¬
ened, that they instantly abandoned the fort entirely,
taking the road to Skenesborough, a place to the south
of Lake George; while their baggage, with what ar¬
tillery and military stores they could carry off, were,
sent to the same place by water. But the British ge¬
nerals were determined not to let them pass'so easily.. ^
Both were pursued, and both overtaken. Their armed Americans
vessels consisted only of five galleys ; two of which were defeated by
taken, and three blown up j on which they set fire toland and
their boats and fortifications at Skenesborough. Onwa,er‘
this occasion the provincials lost 200 boats, 130 pieces
of cannon, with all their provisions and baggage*.
Their land forces under Colonel Francis made a brave
defence against General Fraser ; and being greatly su¬
perior in number, had almost overpowered him, when.
General Reidesel with a large body of Germans came
to his assistance. The enemy were now overpowered
in their turn ; and their commander being killed, they
fled on all sides with great precipitation. In this ac¬
tion 260 Americans were killed, as many taken priso¬
ners, and above 600 wounded, many of whom perished
in the woods for want of assistance.
During the engagement General Sinclair was at
Caatleton, about six miles from the place j but instead,
of going forward to Fort Anne, the next place of
strength, he repaired to the woods which lie between
that fortress and New England. General Burgoyne,
however, detached Colonel Hill with the ninth regi¬
ment, in order to intercept such as should attempt to 27s
retreat towards Fort Anne. On his way he met with They are
a body of the enemy, said to be six times as numerous3#8-*11 de-
as his own ; but after an engagement of three hours,
they were obliged to retire with great loss. After so {,'orl Aline
many disasters, despairing of being able to make any
stand at Fort Anne, they set fire to it, and retired to
Fort Edward. In all these engagements the loss in
killed and wounded in the royal army did not exceed
200 men.
General Burgoyne was now obliged to suspend his Generat
operations for some time, and wait at Skenesborough ^U1'g0.vne
for the arrival of his tents, provisions, &c. but employ-n'ake^,'s
ed this interval in making roads through the country ^rt j£,]_
about St Anne, and in clearing a passage for his troops war<j Wllj1
to proceed against the enemy. This was attended great diffi
with incredible toil} but all obstacles were surmountedeudy*
with equal patience and resolution by the army. In
short, after undergoing the utmost difficulty that could
he undergone, and making every exertion that man
could
62
United
States.
Americans
retire to
Saratoga.
A M J
could make, he arrived with his army before Fort Ed¬
ward about the end of July. Here General Schuyler
had been for some time endeavouring to recruit the
shattered American forces, and had been joined by
General Sinclair with the remains of his army ; the
garrison of Fort George also, situated on the lake oi
that name, had evacuated the place and retired to Fort
Edward.
But on the approach of the royal army, they re¬
tired from thence also, and formed their head-quar¬
ters at Saratoga. Notwithstanding the great successes
of the British general, they showed not the least dis¬
position to submit, but seemed only to consider how
they might make the most effectual resistance. 1 or
this purpose, the militia was everywhere raised and
draughted to join the army at Saratoga j and such
numbers of volunteers were daily added, that they soon
began to recover from the terror into which they had
been thrown. That they might have a commander
whose abilities could be relied on, General Arnold was
appointed, who repaired to Saratoga with a consider¬
able train of artillery *, but receiving intelligence that
Colonel St Leger was proceeding with great rapidity
in his expedition on the Mohawk river, he removed to
Still-water, a place about half way between Saratoga
and the junction of the Mohawk and Hudson’s river.
The colonel, in the mean time, had advanced as far as
Jfort Stan- port Stanwix •, the siege of which he pressed with great
wi* be- vig0ur. On the 6th of August, understanding that a
s^7- supply of provisions, escorted by 8co or 900 men, was
A detach- on the way to the fort, he dispatched Sir John Johnson
meat of A- w[th a strong detachment to intercept it. This he did
so effectually, that, besides intercepting the provisions,
400 of its guard were slain, 200 taken, and the rest
escaped with great difficulty. The garrison, however,
were not to be intimidated by this disaster, nor by the
threats or representations of the colonel ; on the con¬
trary, they made several successful sallies under Co¬
lonel Willet, the second in command *, and this gentle¬
man, in company with another, even ventured out of
the fort, and, eluding the vigilance of the enemy, pas¬
sed through them in order to hasten the march of Ge¬
neral Arnold to their assistance.
Thus the affairs of Colonel St Leger seemed to be
in no very favourable situation, notwithstanding his late
success, and they were soon totally ruined by the deser¬
tion of the Indians. They had been alarmed by the re¬
port of General Arnold’s advancing with 2000 men
to the relief of the fort j and while the colonel was at¬
tempting to give them encouragement, another report
was spread, that General Burgoyne had been defeated
with great slaughter, and was now Hying before the
provincials. On this he was obliged to do as they
thought proper •, and the retreat could not be effected
without the loss of the tents and some of the artillery
and military stores.
General Burgoyne, in the mean time, notwithstand¬
ing all the difficulties he had already sustained, found
that he must still encounter more. The roads he had
made with so much labour and pains were destroyed
either by the wetness of the season or by the enemy j
so that the provisions he brought from Fort George
could not arrive at his camp without the most prodi¬
gious toil. On hearing of the siege of Fort Stanwix
by Colonel St Leger, he determined to move forward
3
RICA.
in hopes of enclosing the enemy betwixt his own army
and that of St Leger, or of obtaining the command of
all the country between Fort Stanwix and Albany j or
at any rate, a junction with Colonel St Leger would be
effected, which could not but be attended with the
most happy consequences. The only difficulty was the
want of provisions ; and this it was proposed to reme¬
dy by reducing the provincial magazines at^ Benning-
tlaited
States.
275
uiencans
cut in
pieces
277
The In¬
dians de¬
sert, and
force the
colonel to
raise the
tiege.
278
General
Burgoyne
distressed
for want of
provisions.
279
ton. For this purpose, Colonel Baum, a German of-Makes as
ficer of great bravery, was chosen, with a body of 500 attempt on;
men. The place was about twenty miles from Hud-
son’s river; and to support Colonel Baum’s party, thezjnegai
whole army marched up the river’s hank, and encamp- Benning-
ed almost opposite to Saratoga, with the river betwixt ton.
it and that place. An advanced party was posted at
Batten Kill, between the camp and Bennington, in or¬
der to support Colonel Baum. In their way the Bri¬
tish seized a large supply of cattle and provisions, which
were immediately sent to the camp ; but the badness
of the roads retarded their march so much, that intel¬
ligence of their design was sent to Bennington. Un¬
derstanding now that the American force was greatly
superior to his own, the colonel acquainted the general,
who immediately despatched Colonel Breyman with
a party to his assistance ; but through the same causes
that had retarded the march of Colonel Baum, this af-
sistance could not arrive in time. General Starke, in
the mean time, who commanded at Bennington, de¬
termined to attack the two parties separately ; and for 2g0
this purpose advanced against Colonel Baum, whom Colonel
he surrounded on all sides, and attacked with the ut-Baum ut¬
most violence. The troops defended themselves with ^.erl/fe' „
great valour, but were to a man either killed or taken. taken prj_
Colonel Breyman after a desperate engagement, hadSOner.
the good luck to effect a retreat through the darkness 28*
of the night, which otherwise he could not have done, ^onel
as his men had expended all their ammunition, being
40 rounds to each.
General Burgovne, thus disappointed in his attempt
on Bennington, applied himself with indefatigable dili¬
gence to procure provisions from Fort George; and
having at length amassed a sufficient quantity to last
for a month, he threw a bridge of boats over the river
Hudson, which he crossed about the middle of Septem¬
ber, encamping on the hills and plains near Saratoga.
As soon as lie approached the provincial army, at this
time encamped at Still-water under General Gates, he
determined to make an attack ; for which purpose he
put himself at the head of the central division of his
army, having General Fraser and Colonel Breyman on
the right, with Generals Reidesel and Philips on the
left. In this position he advanced towards the enemy
on the 19th September. But the Americans did ^
not now wait to be attacked: on the contrary, they T]1C ^me_
attacked the central division with the utmost violence ; deans at-
and it was not until General Phillips w ith the artillery tack the
came up that they could he repulsed. On this occa-roya^ ar"
sion, though the British troops lost only 330 in killed
and wounded, and the enemy no fewer than 1500, theaniiar'e
former were very much alarmed at the obstinate reso-with great
lotion shown by the Americans. This did not, how-difficulty
ever, prevent them from advancing towards the enemy,ieF^sc<**
and posting themselves the next day within cannon-
shot of their lines. But their allies the Indians began The Indi¬
te desert in great numbers ; and at the same time theans desert.
general
United
i tales.
285
A letter
from Sir
General
Burgoyne’s
answer.
286
Expedition
against
Ticonde
rago.
287
A M E
general was in the highest degree mortified by having
no intelligence of any assistance from Sir Henry Clin¬
ton, as had been stipulated. He now received a letter
from him, by which he was informed, that Sir Henrv
intended to make a diversion on the North River in his
HenryClin-favour. This afforded but little comfort : however, he
ton, with returned an answer by several trusty persons whom he
despatched different ways, stating his present distressed
situation, and mentioning that the provisions and other
necessaries he had would only enable him to hold out
till the 1 2th of October.
In the mean time the Americans, in order to cut
of the pro- off the retreat of the British army in the most effectual
incials manner, undertook an expedition against Ticonderago j
but were obliged to abandon the enterprise after hav¬
ing surprised all the outposts, and taken a great num¬
ber of boats with some armed vessels, and a number of
prisoners. The army under General Burgoyne, how¬
ever, continued to labour under the greatest distresses ;
so that in the beginning of October he had been obli¬
ged to diminish the soldiers allowance. On the 7th of
that month he determined to move towards the enemy.
For this purpose he sent a body of 15CO men to re¬
connoitre their left wing j intending, if possible, to
They make break through it in order to effect a retreat. The de-
att-ickuron taC^ment’ ^,owever» had not proceeded far when a
the'roya^011 ^reac^ul attack was mfule upon the left wing of the
army; British army, which was with great difficulty preserved
238 from being entirely broken by a reinforcement brought
ral'Ui'a^r General Fraser, who was killed in the attack.
2g^ ’ After the troops had with the most desperate efforts
and defeat regained their camp, it was most furiously assaulted by
the Ger- General Arnold j who, notwithstanding all opposition,
would have forced the intrepehments, had he not re¬
ceived a dangerous wound, which obliged him to re¬
tire. Thus the attack failed on the left, but on the
right the camp of the German reserve was forced.
Colonel Breyman killed, and his countrymen defeated
with great slaughter, and the loss of all their aitiilery
and baggage.
This was by far the heaviest loss the British army
had sustained since the action at Bunker’s Hill. The
list of killed and wounded amounted to near 1200, ex¬
clusive of the Germans ; but the greatest misfortune,
was, that the enemy had now an opening on the right
and rear of the British forces, so that the army was
threatened with entire destruction. This obliged Ge¬
neral Burgoyne once more to shift his position, that
the enemy might also be obliged to alter theirs. This
was accomplished omthe night of the 7th, without any
loss, and all the next day he continued to offer the
enemy battle ; but they were now too well assured of
obtaining a complete victory, by cutting off all supplies
from the British, to risk a pitched battle. Wherefore
they advanced on the right side, in order to enclose him
entirely; which obliged the general to direct a retreat
towards Saratoga. But the enemy had now stationed
a great force on the ford at Hudson’s river, so that
the only possibility of retreat was by securing a passage
to Lake George ; and to effect this, a body of work¬
men was detached, with a strong guard, to repair the
roads and bridges that led to Fort Edward. As soon
as they were gone, however, the enemy seemed to
prepare for an attack ; which rendered it necessary to
United
States.
mans with
great
slaughter.
29a
The royal
army in
danger of
being sur¬
rounded.
291
Attempt
a retreat
without
success.
292
RICA. 63
recal the guard, and the workmen being of course left
exposed could not proceed.
In the mean time, the boats which conveyed provi¬
sions down Hudson’s river were exposed to the conti¬
nual fire of the American marksmen, who took many
of them ; so that it became necessary to convey the pro¬
visions over land. In this extreme danger it was re¬
solved to march by night to Fort Edward, forcing the
passages at the fords either above or below the place;
and in order to effect this the moie easily, it was re¬
solved that the soldiers should carry their provisions
on their backs, leaving behind their baggage and every
other incumbrance. But before this could be execu¬
ted, intelligence was received that the enemy had raised
strong intrenchments opposite to these fords, tvell pro¬
vided with cannon, and they had likewise taken pos¬
session of the rising ground between Fort George and
Fort Edward, which in like manner was provided with
cannon.
All this time the American army was increasing by Distressed
the continual arrival of militia and volunteers from all situation of
parts. Their. parties extended all along the opposite
bank of Hudson’s river, and some had even passed it
in order to observe the least movement of the British
army. The whole force under General Gates was
computed at 16,000 men, while the army under Gene¬
ral Burgoyne scarcely amounted to 6000 ; and every
part of the camp was reached by the grape and rifle
shot of the enemy, besides a discharge from their artil¬
lery, which was almost incessant. In this state of ex¬
treme distress and danger, the army continued with the
greatest constancy and perseverance till the evening of
the 13th of October, when an inventory of provisions
being taken, it was found that no more remained than
what was sufficient to serve for three days; and a coun-j:t iAbli-
cil of war being called, it was unanimously determined ged to ca*
that there was no method now remaining but to treatpitulate.
with the enemy. In consequence of this, a negotiation
was opened next day, which speedily terminated in the
capitulation of the whole British army; the principal
article of which was, that the troops were to have a
free passage to Britain, on condition of not serving
against America during the war. On this occasion,
General Gates ordered his army to keep within their
camp, while the British soldiers went to a place ap¬
pointed for them to lay down their arms, that the latter
might not have the additional mortification of being
made spectacles in so melancholy an event. The num¬
ber of those who surrendered at Saratoga amounted to
5750, according to the American accounts ; the list of
the sick and wounded left in the camp when the army
retreated to Saratoga, to ^28 ; and the number of those
lost by other accidents since the taking of Ticondera¬
go, to near 3000. Thirty-five brass field-pieces, 7000
stand of arms, clothing for an equal number of soldiers,
with the tents, military chest, &c. constituted the
booty on this occasion.
Sir Henry Clinton, in the mean time, had sailed up Successful
the North river, and destroyed the two forts called expedition
Montgomery and Clinton, with Fort Constitution, and®f^n^n’*
another place called Continental Village, where were1^
barracks for 2000 men. Several large cannon were
carried away, besides a number of smaller artillery,
and a great quantity of stores and ammunition ; a large
boom
64
United
States.
. A M E
boom and cliain reaching across the river from tort
Montgomery to a point of land called St Anthony’s
v Nose, and which cost not less than 'jOjOOol. sterling,
were partly destroyed and partly carried away, as was
also another boom of little less value at tort Constitu¬
tion. The loss of the British army was but small in
number, though some officers of great merit were killed
in the different attacks.
Another attack was made by Sir James W allace with
some frigates, and a body of land lorces under General
Vaughan. The place which now suffered was named
Esopus : the fortifications were destroyed, and the town
itself was reduced to ashes, as that called Continental
Village had been before.
Great de- But these successes, of whatever importance they
jection on might be, were now disregarded by both parties. They
account ot servet| on}y t0 Jrritate the Americans, flushed with their
Burgoyne s J - - — - - -
capture.
296
Treaty be¬
tween
France and
America.
success ; and they were utterly insufficient to raise the
spirits of the British, who were now thrown into the ut¬
most dismay.
On the 16th March 1778, Lord North intimated
to the house of commons, that a paper had been laid be¬
fore the king by the French ambassador, intimating the
conclusion of an alliance between the court of France
and the United States of America. The preliminaries
of this treaty had been concluded in the end of the year
J777, and a copy of them sent to congress, in order to
counteract any proposals that might be made in the mean
time by the British ministry. On the 6th of February
1778, the articles were formally signed, to the great sa¬
tisfaction of the French nation.
They were in substance as follows :
1. If Great Britain should, in consequence of this
treaty, proceed to hostilities against France, the two na¬
tions should mutually assist one another.
2. The main end of the treaty was in an effectual
manner to maintain the independency of America.
3. Should those places of North America still sub¬
ject to Britain be reduced by the colonies, they should
be confederated with them, or subjected to their juris¬
diction.
4. Should any of the West India islands be reduced
by France, they should be deemed its property.
5. No formal treaty with Great Britain should be
concluded either by France or America without the
consent ot each other; and it was mutually engaged
that they should not lay down their arms till the in¬
dependence of the States had been formally acknow¬
ledged.
6. The contracting parties mutually agreed to invite
those powers that had received injuries from Great Bri¬
tain to join the common cause.
7. The United States guaranteed to France all the
possessions in the Westlndies which she should conquer;
and France in her turft guaranteed the absolute indepen¬
dency of the States, and their supreme authority over
every country they possessed, or might acquire during
the war.
The notification of such a treaty as this could not
occasioned but be looked upon as a declaration of war. On its
RICA.
their numberless blunders and miscarriages in every
instance. Many were ol opinion, that the only way to
extricate the nation from its trouble was to acknow¬
ledge the independency ol America at once ; and thus
we might still do with a good grace what must inevita¬
bly be done at last, after expending much more blood
and treasure than had yet been lavished in this unhappy
contest. The ministerial party, however, entertained
different ideas. Instigated by zeal for the national ho¬
nour, it was determined at once to resent the arrogance
of France, and prosecute hostilities against America
with more vigour than ever, should the terms now of¬
fered them be rejected. 298
The Americans, in the mean time, assiduously em- Americans
ployed their agents at the courts of Spain, Vienna,send agents
Prussia, and Tuscany, in order, if possible, to conclude
alliances with them, or at least to procure an acknow¬
ledgment of their independency. As it had been re¬
ported that Britain intended to apply for assistance to
Bussia, the American commissioners were enjoined to
use their utmost influence with the German princes to
prevent such auxiliaries from marching through their
territories, and to endeavour to procure the recall ot the
German ti’oops already sent to America. To France
they offered a cession of such West India islands as
should be taken by the united strength of France and
America ; and should Britain by their joint endeavours
be dispossessed of Newfoundland, Cape Breton, and
Nova Scotia, these territories should be divided betwixt
the two nations, and Great Britain be totally excluded
from the fishery. The proposals to the Spanish court
were, that in case they should think proper to espouse
their quarrel, the American states should assist in redu¬
cing Pensacola under the dominion of Spain, provided
their subjects were allowed the free navigation of the ri¬
ver Mississippi, and the use of the harbour ot Pensacola;
and they further offered, that if agreeable to Spain, they
would declare war against Portugal, should that power
expel- the American ships from its ports. 299
In the mean time, the troops under General Burgoyne General
were preparing to embark for Britain according to the t-urg°y^e*
convention at Saratoga; but to their utter surprise, con-^j^ jjj"
gress positively refused to allow them to embark, under America,
pretence that some sinister designs were harboured on
the part of Britain, and that they only wanted an op¬
portunity to ioin the other troops at Philadelphia or
New York.
297
Debates
by the
treaty.
being announced to the house, every one agreed in an
address to his Majesty, promising to stand by him to
the utmost in the present emergency; but it was warm¬
ly contended by the members in opposition, that the
present ministry ought to be removed on account of
300
The season for action was now approaching; and con-Predatory
gress was indefatigable in its preparations foranew cam-war carried
paign, which it was confidently said would be the last.^\^7^e
Among other methods taken for this purpose, it was re- u.00pS>
commended to all the young gentlemen of the colonies
to form themselves into bodies of cavalry to serve at their
own expence during the war. General Washington at
the same time, in order to remove all encumbrances
irom bis army, lightened the baggage as much as pos¬
sible, by substituting sacks and portmanteaus in place
ot chests and boxes, and using packhorses instead of ^ol
waggons. On the other hand, the British army, ex- Conciliato-
pecting to be speedily reinforced by 20,000 men, thought ry bill re¬
el nothing but concluding the W’ar according to their
wishes before the end of the campaign. It was with
the utmost concern as w’ell as indignation, therefore, le
that they received the news of Lord North’s concilia¬
tory bill. It was universally looked upon as a national
disgrace;
AMERICA.
65
the colo
nists.
V ted ^isgrace : aru^ some even tore the cockades from their
States. l,ats> ant^ trampled them under their feet as a token
.—y—; of their indignation. By the colonists it was re-
302 ceived with indifference. The British commissioners
Despised by en^eavoure(} j.0 ma^e ^
as public as possible ; and
the congress, as formerly, ordered it to be printed
in all the newspapers. On this occasion Governor
Tryon enclosed several copies of the bill to General
Washington in a letter, entreating that he would allow
them to he circulated ; to which that general returned
for answer a copy of a newspaper in which the bill
was printed, with the resolutions of congress upon it.
These were, That whoever presumed to make a se¬
parate agreement with Britain should be deemed a
public enemy j that the United States could not with
any propriety keep correspondence with the commis¬
sioners until tiieir independence was acknowledged, and
the British fleets and armies removed from America.
At the same time, the colonies were warned not to suf¬
fer themselves to be deceived into security by any offers
that might be made j but to use their utmost endea¬
vours to send their quotas with all diligence into the
field. The individuals with whom the commissioners
conversed on the subject of the conciliatory bill, gene¬
rally returned for answer, that the day of reconcilia¬
tion was past •, and that the haughtiness of Britain had
extinguished all filial regard in the breasts of the Ame¬
ricans.
About this time also Mr Silas Deane arrived from
France with two copies of the treaty of commerce
and alliance to be signed by congress. Advices of the
most agreeable nature were also received from various
parts, representing in the most favourable light the dis¬
positions of the European powers ; all of whom, it was
said, wished to see the independence of America settled
Badsuccessupon the most firm and permanent basis. Considering
of the com-the situation of matters with the colonists at this time,
fmssioners. therefore, it is no wonder that the commissioners found
themselves unable to accomplish the business on which
they came. Their proposals were utterly rejected,
themselves treated as spies, and all intercourse with them
interdicted.
But before any final answer could be obtained from
congress, Sir Henry Clinton had taken the resolution
of evacuating Philadelphia. Accordingly, on the 10th
of June, after having made all necessary preparations,
the army marched out of the city, and crossed the De¬
laware before noon with all its baggage and other en¬
cumbrances. General Washington, apprised of this
design, had despatched expresses into the Jerseys with
orders to collect all the force that could be assembled
in order to obstruct the march of the enemy. Af¬
ter various movements on both sides, Sir Henry
Clinton, with the royal army, arrived on the 27th
of June at a place called Freehold ; where, judging
that the enemy would attack him, he encamped in a
very strong situation. Here General Washington de¬
termined to make an attack as soon as the army had
again begun its march. The night was spent in ma¬
king the necessary preparations, and General Lee with
his division was ordered to be ready by daybreak.
Rut Sir Henry Clinton, justly apprehending that the
chief object of the enemy was the baggage, commit¬
ted it to the care of General Knyphausen, whom he
ordered to set out early in the morning, while he
Vol. II. Part I. f
303
304
Philadel¬
phia eva¬
cuated.
followed with the rest of the army. The attack was
accordingly made: but the British general had ta¬
ken such care to arrange his troops properly, and so
effectually supported his forces when engaged with the
Americans, that the latter not only made no im¬
pression, but were with difficulty preserved from a
total defeat by the advance of General Washington
with the whole army. The British troops effected
their retreat with the loss of 300 men, of whom
many died through mere fatigue, without any wound.
In this action General Lee was charged by General
Washington with disobedience and misconduct in re¬
treating before the British army. He was tried bv
a court martial, and sentenced to a temporary suspen¬
sion from his command. After they had arrived at
Sandy Hook, a bridge of boats was by Lord Howe’s
directions thrown from thence over the channel which
separated the island from the main land, and the troops
were conveyed aboard the fleet 5 after which they
sailed to New York. After sending some light de¬
tachments to watch the enemy’s motions, General
Washington marched towards the North River, where
a great force had been collected to join him j and where
it was now expected that some very capital operations
would take place.
In the mean time, France had set about her prepa¬
rations for the assistance of the Americans. On the
14th of April Count d’Estaing had sailed from Tou¬
lon with a strong squadron of ships of the line and
frigates, and arrived on the coast of Virginia in the French
beginning of July, while the British fleet was employed ®.eet ar"*
in conveying the forces from Sandy Hook to New^^®r|^a
York. It consisted of one ship of 90 guns, one of
80, six of 74, and four of 64, besides several large fri¬
gates ; and, exclusive of its complement of sailors, had
6000 marines and soldiers on board. To oppose this
the British had only six ships of 64 guns, three of
50, and two of 40, with some frigates and ships.
Notwithstanding this inferiority, however, the British
admiral posted himself so advantageously, and showed
such superior skill, that D’Estaing did not think pro¬
per to attack him. He therefore remained at anchor
four miles off Sandy Hook till the 22d of July, without
effecting any thing more than the capture of some ves¬
sels, which, through ignorance of his arrival, fell into
his hands. ^
The next attempt of the French admiral was, in Attempts
conjunction with the Americans, on Rhode island. It Rhode
was proposed that D’Estaing, with the 6000 troops he Island with-
had with him, should make a descent on the southern0111 succcss”
part of the island, while a body of the Americans
should take possession of the north ; at the same time
the French squadron was to enter the harbour of New¬
port, and take and destroy all the British shipping.
On the 8th of August the French admiral entered
the harbour as was proposed, but found himself unable
to do any material damage. Lord Howe, however,
instantly set sail for Rhode|Island ; and D’Estaing, con¬
fiding in his superiority, immediately came out of the
harbour to attack him. A violent storm parted the
two fleets, and did so much damage that they were
rendered totally unfit for action. The French, how¬
ever, suffered most j and several of the ships being
afterwards attacked singly by the British, very nar¬
rowly escaped being taken. On the 20th of August
I he
66
United
Slates.
307
The coasts
of America
invaded by
the British
fleet.
30S
Expedition
against
Georgia.
A M E
he returned to Newport in a very shattered condition 5
and, not thinking himself safe there, sailed two days
after for Boston. General Sullivan had landed in the
mean time on the northern part of Rhode Island with
10,000 men. On the 17th of August they began
their operations by erecting batteries, and making their
approaches to the British lines. But General I igot,
who commanded in Newport, had taken such effectual
care to secure himself on the land side, that without the
assistance of a marine force it was altogether impossible
to attack him with any* probability of success. The
conduct of D’Estaing, therefore, who had abandoned
them when master of the harbour, gave the greatest dis¬
gust to the people of New England, and Sullivan began
to think of a retreat. On perceiving his intentions, the
garrison sallied out upon him with so much vigour, that
it was not without difficulty that he effected his retreat.
He had not been long gone when Sir Henry Clinton
arrived with a body of 4000 men ; which, had it ar¬
rived sooner, would have enabled the British comman¬
der to have gained a decisive advantage over him, as
well as to have destroyed the town of Providence, which,
by its vicinity to Rhode Island, and the enterprises
which were continually projected and carried on in that
place, kept the inhabitants of Rhode Island in conti¬
nual alarms.
The first British expedition was to Buzzard’s Bay,
on the coast of New England and neighbourhood of
Rhode Island. Here they destroyed a great number
of privateers and merchantmen, magazines, with store¬
houses, &c. j whence proceeding to a fertile and po¬
pulous island called Martha’s Vineyard, they carried
off 10,000 sheep and 300 black cattle. Another ex¬
pedition took place up the North River, under Lord
Cornwallis and General Knyphausen ; the principal
event of which was the destruction of a regiment of
American cavalry, known by the name of Washing¬
ton’s Light Horse. A third expedition was directed
to Little Egg Harbour in New Jersey, a place noted
for privateers, the destruction of which was its princi¬
pal intention. It was conducted by Captains Fergu¬
son and Collins, and ended in the destruction of the
enemy’s vessels, as weil as of the place itself. At the
same time part of another body of American troops,
called Pulaski’s Legion, was surprised, and a great
number of them put to the sword.
The Americans had in the beginning of the year
projected the conquest of West Florida ; and one Cap¬
tain Willing, with a party of resolute men, had made
a successful incursion into the country. This awaken¬
ed the attention of the British to the southern colo-
and an expedition against them was resolved on
Georgia was the place of destination ; and the more
effectually to ensure success, Colonel Campbell, with
a sufficient force, under convoy of some ships of war,
commanded by Commodore Hyde Parker, embarked
at New York, while General Prevost, who commanded
in East Florida, was directed to set out with all the
force he could spare. The armament from New York
arrived off the coast of Georgia in the month of De¬
cember •, and though the enemy were very strongly
posted in an advantageous situation on the shore, the
British troops made good their landing, and advanced
towards Savannah, the capital of the province. That
very day they defeated the forces of the provincials
3,
H I C A.
which opposed them 5 and took possession ol the town
with such celerity, that the Americans had not time
to execute a resolution they had taken of setting it on
fire. In ten days the whole province of Georgia was^j^ p0S_
reduced, Sunbury alone excepted ; and this was alsosessjon 0f
brought under subjection by General Prevost in his Georgia,
march northward. Every proper method was taken to
secure the tranquillity of the country ; and rewards
were offered for apprehending committee and assembly
men, or such as they judged most inimical to the Bri¬
tish interests. On the arrival of General Prevost, the
command of the troops naturally devolved on him as
the senior officer ; and the conquest of Carolina was
next projected. _ _ 310
In this attempt there was no small probability of Carolina in-
success. The country contained a great number of vaded.
friends to government, who now eagerly embraced the
opportunity of declaring themselves ; many of the in- \
habitants of Georgia had joined the royal standard j
and there was not in the province any considerab.e body
of provincial forces capable of opposing the efforts of re¬
gular and well disciplined troops. On the first news
of General Prevost’s approach, the loyalists assembled
in a body, imagining themselves able to stand their
ground until their allies should arrive ; hut in this they
were disappointed. The Americans attacked and de¬
feated them with the loss of half their number. J he
remainder retreated into Georgia 3 and after undergo¬
ing many difficulties, at last effected a junction with
the British forces.
In the mean time, General Lincoln, with a con¬
siderable body of American troops, had encamped
within 20 miles of the town of Savannah ; and another
strong party had posted themselves at a place called
Briar's Creek, farther up the river of the same name.
Thus the extent of the British government was likely
to be circumscribed within very narrow bounds. Ge¬
neral Prevost therefore determined to dislodge the
party at Briar’s Creek : and the latter, trusting to their
strong situation, and being remiss in their guard, suf¬
fered themselves to be surprised on the 30th of March ^tI
1779 3 when they were utterly routed with the loss of Americans
400 killed and taken, besides a great numher drowned defeated,
in the river or the swamps. The whole artillery, stores,
baggage, and almost all the arms, of this unfortunate
party were taken, so that they could no more make any
stand 3 and thus the province of Georgia was once more
freed from the enemy, and a communication opened
with those places in Carolina where the royalists chief¬
ly resided.
The victory at Briar’s Creek proved of considerable
service to the British cause. Great numbers of the
loyalists joined his army, and considerably increased its
force. Hence lie was enabled to stretch his posts fur¬
ther up the river, and to guard all the principal passes :
so that General Lincoln was reduced to a state of in¬
action 3 and at last moved off towards Augusta, in or¬
der to protect the provincial assembly, which was obli¬
ged to sit in that place, the capital being now in the
hands of the British.
Lincoln had no sooner quitted his post, than it was
judged a proper time by the British general to put in
execution the grand scheme which had been meditated
against Carolina. Many difficulties indeed lay in his
way. rihe river Savanna]) was so swelled by the exces¬
sive
United
States.
312
The British
troops ad¬
vance to
Charles¬
town.
313
General
Lincoln ad'
varices to
its relief.
3i4
The at¬
tempt on it
abandoned.
315
The Ame¬
ricans de¬
feated.
A M E
slve rains of the season, that it seemed impassable j the
opposite shore, for a great way, was so full of swamps
and marshes, that no army could march over it without
the greatest difficulty 5 and, to render the passage still
more difficult, General Moultrie was left with a consi¬
derable body of troops in order to oppose the enemy’s
attempts. But in spite of every opposition, the con¬
stancy and perseverance of the. British forces at last
prevailed. General Moultrie was defeated, and obli¬
ged to retire towards Charlestown ; and the victorious
army, after having waded through the marshes for
some time, at last arrived in an open country, through
which they pursued their march with great rapidity to¬
wards the capital; while General Lincoln remained
in a state of security at Augusta, vainly imagining that
the obstacles he had left in the way could not be sur¬
mounted.
Certain intelligence of the danger to which Charles¬
town was exposed at last aroused the American general
from his lethargy. A chosen body of infantry, mount¬
ed on horseback for the greater expedition, was de¬
spatched before him j wdiile Lincoln himself followed
with all the forces he could collect. General Moultrie
too, with the troops he had brought from Savannah,
and some others he had collected since his retreat from
thence, had taken possession of all the avenues leading
to Charlestown, and prepared for a vigorous defence.
But all opposition proved ineffectual. The Americans
were defeated in every encounter ; and, retreating con¬
tinually, allowed the British army to come within can¬
non-shot of Charlestown on the 12th of May.
The town was now summoned to surrender, and the
inhabitants would gladly have agreed to observe a neu¬
trality during the rest of the war, and would have en¬
gaged also for the rest of the terms. But these terms
not being accepted, they made preparations for a vi¬
gorous defence. It was not, however, in the power
of the British commander at this time to make an at¬
tack with any prospect of success. His artillery was
not of sufficient weight; there were no ships to sup¬
port his attack by land ; and General Lincoln advan¬
cing rapidly with a superior army, threatened to en¬
close him between his own force and the town •, so that
should he fail in his tirst attempt, certain destruction
would be the consequence. For these reasons he with¬
drew his forces from before the town, and took posses¬
sion of two islands called St James's and St John’s ly¬
ing to the southward } where having waited some time,
his force was augmented by the arrival of two frigates.
With these he determined to make himself master of
Port Royal, another island possessed of an excellent
harbour, and many other natural advantages, from its
situation also commanding all the seacoast from Charles¬
town to Savannah river. The American general,
however, did not allow this to be accomplished with¬
out opposition. Perceiving that his opponent had occu¬
pied an advantageous post on St John’s island, prepara¬
tory to his enterprise against Port Royal, he attempted
on the 20th of June, to dislodge him from it j but af¬
ter an obstinate attack, the provincials were, as usual,
obliged to retire with considerable loss. On this occasion
the success of the British arms was in a great measure
owing to an armed float ; which galled the right flank
of the enemy so eflectually, that they could direct their
eflorts only against the strongest part of the lines, which
R I .C A. 67
proved impregnable to their attacks. This disappoint- United
ment was instantly followed by the loss of Port Royal, Slates,
which General Prevost took possession of, and put his l'‘"
troops into proper stations, waiting for the arrival of
such reinforcements as were necessary for the intended
attack on Charlestown. 3id
In the mean time Count d’Estaing, who, as we D’Tstaing’s
have already observed, had put into Boston harbour to l).roc,aina“
refit, had used his utmost efforts to ingratiate himself
with the inhabitants of that city. Zealous also in the
cause of his master, he had published a proclamation
to be dispersed through Canada, inviting the people to
return to their original friendship with France, and
declaring that all who renounced their allegiance to
Great Britain should certainly find a protector in the
king of France. All his endeavours, however, proved
insufficient at this time to produce any revolution, or
even to form a party of any consequence among the
Canadians.
As soon as the French admiral had refitted his fleet, L’Estaiii"-
he took the opportunity, while that of Admiral Byron sails to the
had been shattered by a storm, of sailing to the West West In-
Indies. During his operations there, the Americans^les•
having represented his conduct as totally unserviceable
to them, he received orders from Europe to assist the
colonies with all possible speed. 31s
In compliance with these orders, he directed his D’Estaing’s
course towards Georgia, with a design to recover that expedition
province out of the hands of the enemy, and to put it,
as well as South Carolina, in such a posture of defence
as would effectually secure them from any future at¬
tack. This seemed to be an easy matter, from the
little force by which he knew he should be opposed *,
and the next object in contemplation was no less than
the destruction of the British fleet and army at New
York, and their total expulsion from the continent
of America. Full of these hopes, the French com¬
mander arrived off the coast of Geoi'gia with a fleet of
22 sail of the line and 10 large frigates. His arrival
was so little expected, that several vessels laden with
provisions and military stores fell into his hands j the
Experiment also, a vessel of 50 guns, commanded by
Sir James Wallace, was taken after a stout resistance.
On the continent, the British troops were divided. Ge¬
neral Prevost, with an inconsiderable part, remained at
Savannah ; but the main force was under Colonel Mait¬
land at Port Royal. On the first appearance of the
French fleet, an express was despatched to Colonel
Maitland : but it was intercepted by the enemy •, so
that before he could set out in order to join the com¬
mander in chief, the Americans had secured most of
the passes by land, while the French fleet effectually
blocked up the passage by sea. But, by taking advan¬
tage of creeks and rivulets, and marching over land, he
arrived just in time to relieve Savannah. 319
D’Estaing, after making a gasconade of what had Absurd
happened at St Vincents and Grenada, had allowed
General Prevost 24 hours to deliberate whether he c,)minauc[.
should capitulate or not. This time the general em-er.
ployed in making the best preparations he could for a
defence; and during this time it was that Colonel
Maitland arrived. D’Estaing’s summons was now re¬
jected } and as on this occasion the superiority of the
enemy was by no means so much out of proportion as
it had been at Grenada, there was every probability of
I 2 success
68
United
States.
3 20
Cruelty of
the French
and Ameri¬
can gene¬
rals.
321
They are
utterly de¬
feated.
Successful
expeditions
against the
northern
American
provinces.
success on tlie part of the British. Ihe garrison now
consisted of 3000 men, all of approved valour and ex¬
perience, while the united force ot the French and A-
mericans did not amount to 10,000. i he event was
answerable to the expectations of the British general.
Having the advantage of a strong fortification and ex¬
cellent engineers, the fire of the allies made so little
impression, that H’Estaing resolved to bombard the
town, and a battery of nine mortars was erected for the
purpose. This produced a request from General Pre-
vost, that the women and children might be allowed to
retire to a place of safety. But the allied command¬
ers had the inhumanity to refuse compliance ; and they
resolved to give a general assault. This was accord¬
ingly attempted on the 9th of October: but the as¬
sailants were everywhere repulsed with such slaughter,
that 1200 were killed and wounded; among the for¬
mer was Count Pulaski, and among the latter was
D’Estaing himself.
This disaster entirely overthrew the sanguine hopes
of the Americans and French; mutual reproaches and
animosities took place in the most violent degree ; and
after waiting eight days longer, both parties prepared
for a retreat; the French to their shipping, and the
Americans into Carolina.
While the allies were thus unsuccessfully employ¬
ed in the southern colonies, their antagonists were
no less assiduous in distressing them in the northern
parts. Sir George Collier was sent with a fleet, car¬
rying on board General Matthews, with a body of
land forces, into the province of Virginia. Their first
attempt was on the town of Portsmouth ; where, though
the enemy had destroyed some ships of great value, the
British troops arrived in time to save a great number
of others. On this occasion about 120 vessels of diffe¬
rent sizes were burnt, and 20 carried off; and an im¬
mense quantity of provisions designed for the use of
General Washington’s army was either destroyed or
carried off, together with a great variety of naval and
military stores. The fleet and army returned with lit¬
tle or no loss to New York.
The success with which this expedition was attend¬
ed, soon gave encouragement to attempt another. The
Americans had for some time been employed in the
erection of two strong forts on the river ; the one at
Verplanks Neck on the east, and the other at Stoney
Point on the west side. These when completed would
have been of the utmost service to the Americans, as
commanding the principal pass, called the King's Ferry,
between the northern and southern colonies. At pre¬
sent, however, they were not in a condition to make
any effectual defence ; and it was therefore determined
to attack them before the works should be completed.
The force employed on this occasion was divided into
two bodies ; one of which directed its course against
Verplanks, and the other against Stoney Point. The
former was commanded by General Vaughan, the latter
by General Pattison, while the shipping was under the
direction of Sir George Collier. General Vaughan
met wfith no resistance, the enemy abandoning their
works, and setting fire to every thing combustible that
they could not carry off. At Stoney Point, however,
a vigorous defence was made, though the garrison was
at last obliged to capitulate upon honourable condi¬
tions. To secure the possession of this last, which was
2
United
States.
AMERICA.
the more important of the two, General Clinton remo¬
ved from his former situation, and encamped in such a
manner that Washington could not give any assistance.'
The Americans, however, revenged themselves by di¬
stressing, with their numerous privateers, the trade to
New York.
This occasioned a third expedition to Connecticut,
where these privateers were chiefly built and harbour¬
ed. The command was given to Governor Tryon, and
to General Garth, an officer of known valour and expe¬
rience. Under convoy of a considerable number of
armed vessels they landed at Newhaven, where they de¬
molished the batteries that had been erected to oppose
them, and destroyed the shipping and naval stores ; but
they spared the town itself, as the inhabitants had ab¬
stained from firing out of their houses upon the troops..
From Newhaven they marched to Fairfield, where they
proceeded as before, reducing the town also to ashes.
Norwalk was next attacked, which in like manner was
reduced to ashes; as was also Greenfield, a small sea¬
port in the neighbourhood.
Their successes proved very alarming as well as de¬
trimental to the Americans; so that General Washing¬
ton determined at all events to drive the enemy from
Stoney Point. For this purpose he sent General Wayne
with a detachment of chosen men, directing therti to
attempt the recovery of it by surprise. On this occa¬
sion the Americans showed a spirit and resolution ex¬
ceeding any thing they had performed during the course
of the war. Though after the capture of it by the
British the fortifications of this place had been complet¬
ed, and were very strong, they attacked the enemy
with bayonets, after passing through a heavy fire of
musketry and grape shot ; and in spite of all opposi¬
tion, obliged the surviving part of the garrison, amount¬
ing to 500 men, to surrender themselves prisoners of
war.
Though the Americans did not at present attempt
to retain possession of Stoney Point, the success they
had met with in the enterprise emboldened them to
make a similar attempt on Paulus Hook, a fortified post
on the Jersey side opposite to New York ; but in this
they were not attended with equal success, being obli¬
ged to retire with precipitation after they had made
themselves masters of one or two posts.
Another expedition of greater importance was now
projected on the part of the Americans. This was exped'i-
against a post on the river Penobscot, on the borders oftion of the
Nova Scotia, of which the British had lately taken pos- Americans
session, and where they had begun to erect a fort which
threatened to be a very great inconvenience to the colo¬
nists. The armament destined against it was so soon got
in readiness, that Colonel Maclean, the commanding offi¬
cer at Penobscot, found himself obliged to drop the exe¬
cution ot part of his scheme ; and instead of a regular
to content himself with putting the works already
323
Unsuccess-
fort,
constructed in as good a posture of defence as possible.
I lie Americans could not effect a landing without a
great deal ot difficulty, and bringing the guns of their
largest vessels to bear upon the shore. As soon as this
was done, however, they erected several batteries, and
kept up a brisk fire for the space of a fortnight; after
which they proposed to give a general assault: but be¬
fore this could be effected, they perceived Sir George
Collier with a British fleet sailing up the river to at¬
tack
United
States.
324
A M E
tack them. On this they instantly embarked their ar¬
tillery and military stores, sailing up the river as far as
possible in order to avoid him. They were so closely
pursued, however, that not a single vessel could escape ;
so that the whole fleet, consisting of 19 armed vessels
and 24 transports, was destroyed j most ol them indeed
being blown up by themselves. The soldiers and sail¬
ors were obliged to wander through immense deserts,
where they sufl’ered much for want ot provisions •, and
to add to their calamities, a quarrel broke out between
the soldiers and seamen concerning the cause ol their
disaster, which ended in a violent fray, wherein a great
number were killed.
Thus the arms of America and France being almost
everywhere unsuccessful, the independency of the for¬
mer seemed yet to be in danger notwithstanding the
assistance of so powerful an ally, when further encou¬
ragement was given by the accession of Spain to the
Spain joins confederacy against Britain in the month of June 1779*
the confe- The first effect of this appeared in an invasion of West
^ainnBri ^or^a ^7 ^ie Spaniards in September 1779. As the
tain!51 U" country was in no state of defence, the enemy easily
made themselves masters of the whole almost without
opposition. Their next enterprise was against the
Bay of Honduras, where the British logwood-cutters
were settled. These finding themselves too weak to
resist, applied to the governor of Jamaica for relief;
who sent them a supply of men, ammunition, and mi¬
litary stores, under Captain Dalrymple. Before the
arrival of this detachment, the principal settlement in
those parts, called St George's Key, had been taken by
the Spaniards and retaken by the British. In his way
Captain Dalrymple fell in with a squadron from Admi¬
ral Parker in search of some register ships richly la¬
den ; but which retreating into the harbour of Omoa,
were too strongly protected by the fort to be attacked
Fort Omoa with safety. A project was then formed in conjunc-
taken by tjon with the people of Honduras, to reduce this fort.
The design was to surprise it; but the Spaniards hav¬
ing discovered them, they were obliged to fight. Vic¬
tory quickly declared for the British ; but the fortifica¬
tions'were so strong, that the artillery they had brought
along with them were found too light to make any im¬
pression. It was then determined to try the success of
an escalade; and this was executed with so much spi¬
rit, that the Spaniards stood astonished without making
any resistance, and, in spite of all the eflorts of their
officers, threw down their arms and surrendered. The
spoil was immense, being valued at three millions of
dollars. The Spaniards chiefly lamented the loss of
250 quintals of quicksilver; a commodity indispensa¬
bly necessary in the working of their gold and silver
mines, so that they offered to ransom it at any price ;
but this was refused, as well as the ransom of the fort,
though the governor offered 300,000 dollars for it. A
small garrison was left for the defence of the place:
but it was quickly attacked by a superior force, and
fie obl%e<l obliged to evacuate it, though not without destroying
every thing that could be of use to the enemy j spiking
the guns, and even locking the gates of the fort and
carrying off the keys. All this was done in the sight
of the besiegers; after which the garrison embarked
without the loss of a man.
As no operation of any consequence took place this
year in the province of New York, the congress made
United
States.
325
the Bri
tish;
326
but they
to evacuate
it.
RICA. 69
use of the opportunity to dispatch General Sullivan
with a considerable force, in order to take vengeance
on the Indians for their ravages and depredations:
and the object of the expedition was, not merely the Aniej2jp.ins
reduction of them, but if possible their utter extirpa- take ven-
tion. Of this the Indians were apprised ; and collect-geance on
ing all their strength, resolved to come to a decisive^16 Indians,
engagement. Accordingly they took a strong post in
the most woody and mountainous part ol the country ;
erecting a breastwork in the front, of large logs ot
wood, extending half a mile in length, while their right
flank was covered by a river, and the left by a hill of
difficult access. This advantageous position they had
taken by the advice of the refugees who were among
them, and of whom 200 or 300 were present in the
battle.
Thus posted, the Indians waited the approacli of
the American army ; but the latter having brought
some artillery along with them, played it against the
breastwork of the enemy with such success, that in
two hours it was almost destroyed ; and at the same
time a party having reached the top of the hill, they
became apprehensive of being surrounded, on which
they instantly fled with precipitation, leaving a great
number of killed and wounded behind them. The A-
mericans after this battle met with no further resist¬
ance of any consequence. They were suffered to pro¬
ceed without interruption, and to execute in the most
ample manner the vengeance they had projected. On
entering the country of the Indians, it appeared that
they had been acquainted with agriculture and the arts
of peace far beyond what had been supposed. From
General Sullivan’s account it was learned, that the In¬
dian houses were large, convenient, and even elegant;
their grounds were excellently cultivated, and their gar¬
dens abounded in fruit trees and vegetables of all kinds
fit for food. The whole of this fine country was now
by the American general converted into a desert.
Forty towns and settlements, besides scattered habita¬
tions, were demolished ; the fields of corn, the orchards,
the plantations, were utterly laid waste ; all the fruit *
trees were cut down ; and so great had been the in¬
dustry of the Indians, that in one orchard 1500 of these
were destroyed. The quantity of corn wasted on this
occasion was supposed to amount to 160,000 bushels.
In short such was the desolation, that on the Ame¬
rican army’s leaving the country, not a house, not a
field of corn, not a fruit tree, was left upon the ground, .
nor was an Indian to be seen throughout the whole
tract.
We must now take a view of the transactions in the
southern colonies ; to which the war was, in the year
1780, so effectually transferred, that the operations
there became at last decisive. The success of General
Prevost in advancing to the very capital of South Ca¬
rolina has been already related, together witli the ob¬
stacles which prevented him from becoming master of it
at that time. Towards the end of the year 1779, how-Expedition
ever, Sir Henry Clinton set sail from New York with ot Sir Hen-
a considerable body of troops, intended for the attack'y
of Charlestown, South Carolina, in a fleet of ships of^:;;;;.
war and transports under the command of Vice Ad-town,
miral Arbuthnot. They had a very tedious voyage ;
the weather was uncommonly bad ; several of the trans¬
ports were lost, as was also the greater part of the
horses-,,
7°
United
States.
A M E
horses which they carried with them, intended for ca¬
valry or other public uses ^ and an ordnance ship like¬
wise foundered at sea. Having arrived at Savannah,
where they endeavoured to repair the damages su¬
stained on their voyage, they proceeded from thence
on the loth of February 1780 to North Edisto,
the place of debarkation which had been previously
appointed. They had a favourable and speedy passage
thither: and though it required time to have the bar
explored- and the channel marked, the transports all
entered the harbour the next day; and the army took
possession of John’s Island without opposition. Prepa¬
rations were then made for passing the squadron over
Charlestown bar, where the high water spring tides
were only 19 feet deep : but no opportunity oflered
of going into the harbour till the 20th ot March,
when it was effected without any accident, though
the American galleys continually attempted to prevent
the English boats from sounding the channel. The
British troops had previously removed from John’s to
James’s island ; and on the 29th of the same month
they effected their landing at Charlestown Neck. On
the 1st of April they broke ground within 800 yards
of the American works j and by the 8th the besiegers
guns were mounted in battery.
As soon as the army began to erect their batteries
against the town, Admiral Arbuthnot embraced the
first favourable opportunity of passing Sullivan’s island,
upon which there was a strong fort of batteries, the
chief defence of the harbour. He weighed on the
9th, with the Roebuck, Richmond, and Romulus,
Blonde, Virginia, Raleigh, and Sandwich armed ship,
the Renown bringing up the rear; and, passing through
a severe fire, anchored in about two hours under James’s
island, with the loss of 27 seamen killed and wounded.
The Richmond’s fore-top-mast was shot away, and the
ships in general sustained damage in their masts and
rigging, though not materially in their hulls. But
the Acetus transport, having on board some naval
stores, grounded within gunshot of Sullivan’s island,
and received so much damage that she was obliged to
be abandoned and burnt.
On the 10th, Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Ar¬
buthnot summoned the town to surrender to his ma-
by Lincoln, jesty’s arms: but Major-general Lincoln, who com¬
manded in Charlestown, returned them an answer, de¬
claring it to be his intention to defend the place. The
batteries were now opened against the town ; and from
their effect the fire of the American advanced works
considerably abated. It appears that the number of
troops under the command of Lincoln was by far too
few for defending works of such extent as those of
Charlestown ; and that many of these were men little
accustomed to military service, and very ill provided
with clothes and other necessaries. Lincoln had been
for some time expecting reinforcements and supplies
from Virginia and other places; but they came in very
slowly, Earl Cornwallis, and Lieutenant-colonel Tarle-
ton under him, were also extremely active in inter¬
cepting such reinforcements and supplies as were sent
to the American general. They totally defeated a
considerable body of cavalry and militia which was
proceeding to the relief of the town ; and also made
United
States.
329
The town
defended
33i
330
Several re
inforce-
ments in¬
tended for .
his relief themselves masters of some posts which gave them
intercepted in a great degree the command of the country, by
RICA.
which means great supplies of provisions fell into their
hands.
Such was the state of things, and Fort Sullivan had
also been taken by the king’s troops, when on the
18th General Clinton again summoned the town to
surrender; an offer being made, as had been done
before, that if they surrendered, the lives and pro¬
perty of the inhabitants should be preserved to them.
Articles of capitulation were then proposed by Gene¬
ral Lincoln ; but the terms were not agreed to by Ge¬
neral Clinton. At length, however, the town being
closely invested on all sides, and the preparations to
storm it in every part being in great forwardness, and
the ships ready to move to the assault, General Lin¬
coln, who had been applied to for that purpose by the
inhabitants, surrendered it on such articles of capitula¬
tion as General Clinton had before agreed to. This The place
was on the 12th of May, which was one month audsurreftders.
tw'o days after the town had been first summoned to
surrender.
A large quantity of ordnance, arms, and ammuni¬
tion, was found in Charlestown ; and, according to
Sir Henry Clinton’s account, the number of prisoners
taken in Charlestown amounted to 5618 men, exclu¬
sive of near a thousand sailors in arms; but accord¬
ing to General Lincoln’s account, transmitted to the
congress, the whole number of continental troops ta¬
ken prisoners amounted to no more than 2487. The
remainder, therefore, included in General Clinton’s
account, must have consisted of militia and inhabitants
of the town. Several American frigates were also
taken or destroyed in the harbour of Charlestown.
The loss of Charlestown evidently excited a consi¬
derable alarm in America : and their popular writers,
particularly the author of the celebrated performance
entitled Common Sense, in some other pieces made use
of it as a powerful argument to lead them to more vi¬
gorous exertions against Great Britain, that they might
the more effectually and certainly secure their inde¬
pendence.
While Sir Henry Clinton was employed in his voy- Apprehea-
age to Charlestown, and in the siege of that place, sions at
the garrison at New York seem not to have been whol- ^ew Y°rk
ly free from apprehensions for their own safety. An
intense frost, accompanied with great falls of snow',
began about the middle of December 1779, and shut
up the navigation of the port of New York from the
sea, within a few days after the departure of Admiral
Arbuthnot and General Clinton. The severity of the
weather increased to so great a degree, that towards
the middle of January all communications with Newr
York by water were entirely cut off, and as many new
ones opened by the ice. The inhabitants could scarce¬
ly be said to be in an insular state. Horses w’itb heavy
carriages could go over the ice into the Jerseys from
one island to another. The passage in the North Ri¬
ver, even in the widest part from New York to Paulus
Hook, which was 2000 yards, was about the 19th of
January practicable for the heaviest cannon : an event
which had been unknown in the memory of man.
Provisions were soon after transported upon sledges, and
a detachment ol cavalry marched upon the ice from
New Aorkto Staten island, which W’as a distance of
11 miles.
I he city of New York being thus circumstanced,
A M E H I C A.
71
.334
The pro-
▼i^cials at¬
tack Staten
Island;
335.
but are in¬
duced to
make a
precipitate
retreat.
336
Proclama¬
tions by
General
Clinton.
was considered as much exposed to the attacks from
the continental troops : and it was strongly report
ed that General Washington was meditating a great
stroke upon New York with his whole force, by dif¬
ferent attacks. Some time before this, Major-gene¬
ral Pattison, commandant at New York, having re¬
ceived an address from many of the inhabitants, offer¬
ing to put themselves in military array, he thought
the present a favourable opportunity of proving the sin¬
cerity of their professions. Accordingly he issued a
proclamation, calling upon all the male inhabitants
from 16 to 60 to take up arms. The requisition was
so readily complied with, that in a few days 40
companies from-the six wards of the city were enrol¬
led, officered, and under arms, to the number of 2600,
many substantial citizens serving in the ranks of each
company. Other volunteer companies were formed ;
and the city was put into a very strong posture of de¬
fence.
No attack, however, was made upon New York,
whatever design might originally have been meditated j
but an attempt was made upon Staten Island, where
there were about 1800 men, under the command of
Brigadier-general Sterling, who were well intrenched.
General Washington, whose army was hutted at Mor¬
ristown, sent a detachment of 2700 men, with six
pieces of cannon, two mortars, and some horses, com¬
manded by Lord Sterling, who arrived at Staten
Island early in the morning of the 15th January. The
advanced posts of the British troops retired upon the
approach of the Americans, who formed the line,
and made some movements in the course of the day ;
but they withdrew in the night, after having burnt
one house, pillaged some others, and carried off with
them about 200 head of cattle. Immediately on the
arrival of the Americans on Staten island, Lieutenant-
general Knypbausen had embarked 600 men to at¬
tempt a passage, and to support General Sterling:
but the floating ice compelled them to return. It is,
however, imagined, that the appearance of these trans¬
ports, with the British troops on board, which the Ame¬
ricans could see towards the close of the day, induced
the latter to make so precipitate a retreat.
Alter Charlestown had surrendered to the king’s
troops, General Clinton issued two proclamations, and
also circulated a hand bill amongst the inhabitants of
South Carolina, in order to induce them to return to
their allegiance, and to be ready to join the king’s
troops. It was said, that the helping hand of every
man was wanted to re-establish peace and good go¬
vernment: and that as the commander in chief wished
not to draw the king’s friends into danger, while any
doubt could remain of their success ; so now that this
was certain, he trusted that one and all would heartily
join, and by a general concurrence give effect to such
necessary measures for that purpose as from time to
time might be pointed out. Those who had families
were to form a militia to remain at home, and occa¬
sionally to assemble in their own districts, when re¬
quired, under officers of their own choosing, for the
maintenance of peace and good order. Those who
had no families, and who could conveniently be spared
for a time, it was presumed, would cheerfully assist his
majesty’s troops in driving their oppressors, acting un¬
der the authority of congress, and all the miseries of
United
States.
war, far from that colonv. For this purpose it was
said to be necessary that the young men should be ready
to assemble when required, and to serve with the king’s
troops for any six months of the ensuing twelve that
might be found requisite, under proper regulations.
They might choose officers to each company to com¬
mand them ; and were to lie allowed, when on service,
pay, ammunition, and provisions, in the same manner
as the king’s troops. When they joined the army,
each man was to he furnished with a certificate, decla¬
ring that he was only engaged to serve as a militiaman
for the time specified ; that he was not to be marched
beyond North Carolina and Georgia*, and that, when
the time tvas out, he tvas freed from all claims what¬
ever of military service, excepting the common and
usual militia duty where he lived. He would then,
it was said, have paid his debt to his country, and be
entitled to enjoy undisturbed that peace, liberty, and
property, at home, which he had contributed to se¬
cure. The proclamations and publications of General
Clinton appeared to have produced some effect in South
Carolina 5 though they probably operated chiefly upon
those who were before not much inclined to the cause
of American independence. Two hundred and ten ot
the inhabitants of Charlestown signed an address to
General Clinton and Admiral Arbuthnot, soliciting to
be readmitted to the character and condition of Bri¬
tish subjects, the inhabitants of that city having been
hitherto considered as prisoners on parole ; declaring
their disapprobation of the doctrine of American in¬
dependence 5 and expressing their regret, that after the
repeal of those statutes which gave rise to the troubles
in America, the overtures made by his majesty’s com¬
missioners had not been regarded by the congress. Sir
Henry Clinton, in one of the proclamations issued at
this time, declared, that if any persons should thence¬
forward appear in arms in order to prevent the esta¬
blishment of his majesty’s government in that country,
or should, under any pretence or authority whatsoever,
attempt to compel any other person or persons to do
so, or should hinder or intimidate the king’s faithful
and loyal subjects from joining his forces or otherwise
performing those duties their allegiance required, such
persons should be treated with the utmost severity, and
their estates be immediately seized in order to be con¬
fiscated.
Mean time the ravages of war did not prevent the
Americans from paying some attention to the arts of
peace. On the 4th of May an act passed by the coun¬
cil and house of representatives 01 Massachusets Bay for
incorporating and establishing a society for the cultiva¬
tion and promotion of the arts and sciences.
Some doubts having arisen in the congress, towards Proceed-
the close of the preceding year, about the propriety inSs c013”
of their assembling in the city of Philadelphia, it was^ress’
now resolved that they should continue to meet there :
and a committee of three members was appointed, to
report a proper place where buildings might be pro¬
vided for the reception of the congress, together with
an estimate of the expence of providing such build¬
ings and the necessary offices for the several boards.
It was also resolved by the congiess, that a monument
should be erected to the memory of their late general
Richard Montgomery, who fell at Quebec, in testi¬
mony of his signal and important services to the United
States
337
72
United
Stiites.
^38 .
Difficulties
A M
States of America, with an inscription expressive oi
his amiable character and heroic achievements j and
that the continental treasurers should be directed to
advance a sum not exceeding 300^* ■^r Franklin
to defray the expence } that gentleman being desired
to cause the monument to be executed at Paris, or in
some other part of France. It was likewise resolved
by the congress, that a court should be established
for the trial of all appeals from the court of admiralty
of the United States of America, in cases of capture ;
to consist of three judges, appointed and commissioned
by congress, and who were to take an oath of office :
and that the trials in this court should be determined
by the usage of nations.
The difficulties of the congress and of the people of
-^-America had been greatly increased by the deprecia-
ciation'of ^on °f the>r paper currency. At the time when the
their paper colonies engaged in a war with Great Britain, they
currency, had no regular civil' governments established among
them of sufficient energy to enforce the collection of
taxes, or to provide funds for the redemption of such
bills of credit as their necessities obliged them to issue.
In consequence of this state of things, their bills in¬
creased in quantity far beyond the sum necessary for the
purpose of a circulating medium •, and as they wanted
at the same time specific funds to rest on for their re¬
demption, they saw their paper currency daily sink in
value. The depreciation continued, by a kind ol gra¬
dual progression, from the year 1777 to 1780 ; so that,
at the latter period, the continental dollars were passed,
by common consent, in most parts of America, at the
rate of at least ^ths below their nominal value. The
impossibility of keeping up the credit of the currency
to any fixed standard, occasioned great and almost in¬
surmountable embarrassments in ascertaining the value
of property, or carrying on trade with any sufficient
certainty. Those who sold, and those who bought,
were left without a rule whereon to form a judgment
of their profit or their loss j and every species of com¬
merce or exchange, whether foreign or domestic, was
exposed to numberless and increasing difficulties. The
consequences of the depreciation of the paper currency
were also felt with peculiar severity by such of the A-
mericans as were engaged in their military services, and
greatly augmented their other hardships. The requisi¬
tions made by the congress to the several colonies for
supplies, were also far from being always regularly
complied with : and their troops were not unfrequent-
ly in want of the most common necessaries; which na¬
turally occasioned complaints and discontent among
them. Some of these difficulties, resulting from their
circumstances and situation, perhaps no wisdom could
have prevented : but they seem to have arisen in part
from the congress not being sufficiently acquainted with
the principles of finance, and from a defect of system in
the departments of their government. The cause of the
Americans appears also to have suffered somewhat by
their depending too much on temporary inlistments.
But the congress endeavoured, towards the close of the
year 1780, to put their army on a more permanent
footing, and to give all the satisfaction to their offi¬
cers and soldiers which their circumstances would per¬
mit. They appointed a committee for arranging their
finances, and made some new regulations respecting
ERICA.
their war-office and treasury-board, and other public
departments.
Notwithstanding the disadvantages under which they
laboured, the Americans seemed to entertain no doubts Anil]^r.
but that they should be able to maintain their iudepen-sary ot'A-
dency. The 4th of July v'as celebrated this year at merican in-
Philadelphia with some pomp, as the anniversary of
merican independence. A commencement for confer-^ phibdel-
ring degrees in the arts was held the same day, in thepi,ia.
hall of the university there ; at which the president and
members of the congress attended, and other persona
in public offices. The chevalier de la Lucerne, mi¬
nister plenipotentiary from the French king to the
United States, was also present on the occasion. A
charge was publicly addressed by the provost of the
university to the students j in which he said, that he
could not but congratulate them “ on that auspicious
day, which, amidst the confusions and desolations of
war, beheld learning beginning to revive; and ani¬
mated them with the pleasing prospect of seeing the
sacred lamp of science burning with a still brighter
flame, and scattering its invigorating rays over the un¬
explored deserts of that extensive continent; until the
whole world should be involved in the united blaze of
knowledge, liberty, and religion. When he stretched
his views forward (he said), and surveyed the rising
glories of America, the enriching consequences of their
determined struggle for liberty, the extensive fields of
intellectual improvement and useful invention, in science
and arts, in agriculture and commerce, in religion and
government, through which the unfettered mind would
range, with increasing delight, in quest of the undis¬
covered treasure which yet lay concealed in the animal,
vegetable, and mineral kingdoms of that new world,
or in the other fertile sources of knowledge with which
it abounded; his heart swelled with the pleasing pro¬
spect, that the sons of that institution would distinguish
themselves, in the difi’erent walks of life, by their li¬
terary contributions to the embellishment and increase
of human happiness.”
On the 10th of July, M. Ternay, with a fleet con-A large
sistiug of seven ships of the line, besides frigates, and^odyof
a large body of French troops, commanded by the^r®n®^n(j
count de Rochambeau, arrived at Rhode Island; anda^Rhode
the following day 6000 men were landed there. A island,
committee from the general assembly of Rhode Island
was appointed to congratulate the French general upon
his arrival: whereupon he returned an answer, in which
he informed them, that the king his master had sent
him to the assistance of his good and faithful allies
the United States of America. At present, he said,
he only brought over the vanguard of a much greater
force destined for their aid ; and the king had ordered
him to assure them, that his whole power should he ex¬
erted for their support. He added, that the French
troops were under the strictest discipline ; and, acting
under the orders of General Washington, would live
with the Americans as their brethren.
A scheme was soon after formed, of making a com¬
bined attack with English ships and troops, under the
command of Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arbuth-
not, against the French fleet and troops at Rhode
Island. Accordingly a considerable part of the troops
at New York was embarked for that purpose. Ge¬
neral
United
States.
Unsuccess¬
ful expedi¬
tion in the
Jerseys.
. 342
Victory ob¬
tained by
Lord Corn¬
wallis over
General
Gates.
A M E
neral Washington having received information of this,
passed the North River, by a very rapid movement,
and with an army increased to 1 2,000 men, proceed¬
ed with celerity towards King’s Bridge, in order to at¬
tack New York ; but learning that the British gene¬
ral had changed his intentions, and disembarked his
troops on the 31st of the month, General Washington
recrossed the river, and returned to his former station.
Sir Henry Clinton and the admiral had agreed to re¬
linquish their design of attacking the French and
Americans at Rhode Island as impracticable for the
present.
An unsuccessful attempt was also made about this
time in the Jerseys by General Knyphausen, with
7000 British troops under his command, to surprise
the advanced posts of General Washington’s army.
They proceeded very rapidly towards Springfield,
meeting little opposition till they came to the bridge
there, which was very gallantly defended by 170 of
the continental troops for 15 minutes, against the Bri¬
tish army ; but they were at length obliged to give up
so unequal a contest, with the loss of 37 men. Alter
securing this pass, the British troops marched into the
place, and set fire to most of the houses. They also
committed some other depredations in the Jerseys, but
gained no laurels there, being pbliged to return about
the beginning of July without effecting any thing ma¬
terial.
But in South Carolina the royal arms were attended
with more success. Earl Cornwallis, who commanded
the British troops there, obtained a very signal victory
over General Gates, on the 16th of August. The ac¬
tion began at break of day, in a situation very advan¬
tageous for the British troops, but very unfavourable
to the Americans. The latter were much more nu¬
merous j but the ground on which both armies stood
was narrowed by swamps on the right and left, so that
the Americans could not properly avail themselves of
their superior numbers. There seems to have been
some want of generalship in Gates, in suffering himself
to be surprised in so disadvantageous a position : but
this circumstance was partly the effect of accident; for
both armies set out with a design of attacking each
other precisely at the same time, at ten the preceding
evening, and met together before daylight at the
place where the action happened. The attack was
made by the British troops with great vigour, and in a
few minutes the action was general along the whole
line. It was at this time a dead calm, with a little
haziness in the air, which preventing the smoke from
rising, occasioned so thick a darkness, that it was dif¬
ficult to see the effect of a very heavy and well-support¬
ed fire on both sides. The British troops either kept
up a constant fire, or made use of bayonets, as oppor¬
tunities offered; and, after an obstinate resistance dur¬
ing three quarters of an hour, threw the Americans
into total confusion, and forced them to give way in all
quarters. The continental troops appear to have be¬
haved well; but the militia were soon broken, and left
the former to oppose the whole force of the British
troops. General Gates did all in his power to rally
the militia, but without effect : the continentals re¬
treated in some order ; but the rout of the militia was
so great, that the British cavalry are said to have con¬
tinued the pursuit of them to the distance of 22 miles
VOL. II. Part I. f
RICA. ' 73
from the place where the action happened. The loss United
of the Americans was very considerable : about IOOO States,
prisoners were taken, and more are said to have been ■y—-"'
killed and wounded, but the number is not very accu¬
rately ascertained. Seven pieces of brass cannon, a
number of colours, and all the ammunition waggons of
the Americans, were also taken. Of the British troops,
the killed and wounded amounted to 213. Among
the prisoners taken was Major-general Baron de Kalb,
a Prussian officer in the American service, who was
mortally wounded, having exhibited great gallantry in
the course of the action, and received 11 wounds. The
British troops by whom this great victory was achieved
did not much exceed 2000, while the American army
is said to have amounted to 6000, of which, however,
the greatest part was militia. 34}
Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton, who had greatly di-Activity of
stinguished himself in this action, was detached the IJeut. ( ol.
following day, with some cavalry and light infantry, ^a^ett,a*
amounting to about 350 men, to attack a corps of
Americans under General Sumpter. He executed this
service with great activity and military address. He
procured good information of Sumpter’s movements j
and by forced and concealed marches came up with and
surprised him on the middle of the day on the 18th,
near the Catawba fords. He totally destroyed or dis¬
persed his detachment, which consisted of 700 men,
killing 150 on the spot, and taking two pieces of brass
cannon, 300 prisoners, and 44 waggons.
Not long after these events, means were found to General
detach Major-general Arnold, who had engaged so ar- Arnold de-
dently in the cause of America, and who had exhibited
so much bravery in the support of it, from the interestscongrefiS.
of the congress. Major Andre, adjutant-general to
the British army, was a principal agent in this trans¬
action ; or, if the overture of joining the king’s troops
came first from Arnold, this gentleman was the person
employed to concert the affair with him. More must
have been originally comprehended in the scheme than
the mere desertion of the American cause by Arnold :
but whatever designs had been formed for promoting
the views of the British government, they were fru¬
strated by the apprehending of Major Andre. He
w7as taken in disguise, after having assumed a false
name, on the 23d of September, by three American
soldiers ; to whom he offered considerable rewards, if
they would have suffered him to escape, but without
effect. Several papers written by Arnold were found
upon him ; and when Arnold had learned that Major
Andre was seized, he found means to get on board ^
a barge, and to escape to one of the king’s ships. Unhappy
General Washington referred the case of Major Andre^ate ot Ma¬
to the examination and decision of a board of generalJ01
officers, consisting of Major-general Greene, Major-
general Lord Sterling, Major-general the Marquis de
la Fayette, Major-general the Baron de Stenben, two
other major-generals, and eight brigadier-generals. Ma¬
jor Andrfe was examined before them, and the par¬
ticulars of his case, inquired to ; and they reported to
the American commander in chief, that Mr Andr£
came on shore from the Vulture sloop of war in the
night, on an interview with General Arnold, in a pri¬
vate and secret manner} that he changed his dress
within the American lines ; and, under a feigned name
and in a disguised habit, passed the American works at
K Stoney
,H6
Stoney and Vcrplank’s Foints
22d of September ; that he was taken on the morning
of the 23d at Tarry town, he being then on the way for
New York •, and that, when taken, he had in his pos¬
session several papers which contained intelligence foi
the enemy. They therefore determined, that he ought
to be considered as a spy from the enemy 5 and that,
agreeable to the law and usage of nations, he ought
to suffer death. Sir Henry Clinton, Lieutenant-ge¬
neral Robertson, and the late American general Ar¬
nold, all wrote pressing letters to General Washington
on the occasion, in order to prevent the decision of the
board of general officers from being put in force But
their applications were ineffectual. Major Andre was
hanged at Tappan, in the province ot New York, on
His amiable the 2d of October. He met his fate with great firm-
character. ness ; hut appeared somewhat hurt that he was not al¬
lowed a more military death, for which he had soli¬
cited. He was a gentleman of very amiable quali¬
ties, had a taste for literature and the fine arts, and
possessed many accomplishments. His death, there¬
fore, was regretted even by his enemies : and the
verity of the determination concerning him was much
exclaimed against in Great Britain. It was, however,
generally acknowledged by impartial persons, that there
was nothing in the execution ot this unfortunate gen¬
tleman but what was perfectly consonant to the rules of
war.
Arnold was made a brigadier-general in the king’s
service, and published an address to the inhabitants of
America, dated from New York, October 7. in which
^47 he endeavoured to justify his desertion of their cause.
Motives as- fle that when he first engaged in it, he con¬
signed by ce;ve(] the rights of his country.to be in danger, and
UiHeonduct. that duty and honour called him to her defence. A
redress of grievances was his only aim and object •, and
therefore he acquiesced unwillingly in the declaration
# of independence, because he thought it precipitate.
But what now induced him to desert their cause was
the disgust be had conceived at the French alliance,
and at the refusal of congress to comply with the last
terms offered by Great Britain, which he thqught equal
to all their expectations and to all their wishes.
V48 The Americans, however, accounted for the con-
riifwrent juct 0f Arnold in a different manner. They alleged,
ll^ed'b the that he had so involved himself in debts and difficulties
Americans, by his extravagant manner of living in America, that
he had rendered it very inconvenient for him to con¬
tinue there : that after the evacuation of Philadelphia
by the British troops, Arnold, being invested with the
command in that city, had made the house of Mr
Penn, which was the best in the city, his head quar¬
ters. Th is he had furnished in an elegant and expen¬
sive manner, and lived in a style far beyond his income.
It was manifest, they said, that he couid at first have
no great aversion to the French alliance, because, that
when M. Gerard, minister plenipotentiary from the
court of Fiance, arrived at Philadelphia in July 1778,
General Arnold early ami earnestly solicited that mi¬
nister, with his whole suite, to take apartments and
bed and board at his house, until a proper house could
be provided by the order of the congress. This offer
M. Gerard accepted, and he continued with him some
weeks. The French minister resided upwards of 14
months in Philadelphia 5 during which time General
AMERICA.
on the evening of the Arnold kept up the most friendly and intimate ac
quaintance with him, and there was a continued inter¬
change ot dinners, balls, routes, and concerts : so that
M. Gerard must have believed, that in General Arnold
he bad found and left one of the warmest friends the
court of France had in America. He wras also one of
the first in congratulating the Chevalier la Luzerne,
the second French minister. About this time com¬
plaints and accusations were exhibited against him by
the government of Philadelphia lor divers mal-practi*
ces •, among which charges were, the appropriation ot
goods and merchandise to his own use, which he had
seized as British property in Philadephia in July
It was determined by a court-martial, that his con¬
duct was highly reprehensible *, but he was indulgently
treated, and was therefore only reprimanded by the
commander in chief General Washington. It was in
these circumstances, the Americans said, bankrupted
in reputation and fortune, loaded with debts, and hav-
. ing a growing and expensive family, that General Ar¬
nold first turned hiS thought'4 towards joining tht TCyti!
United
State*.
se- arms.
349
rolina.
After the defeat of General Gates by Earl Corn- Actions in
wallis, that nobleman exerted himself to the utmost in South Ca-
extending the progress of the British arms, and with
considerable effect. But one enterprise, which was
conducted by Major Ferguson, proved unsuccessful.
That officer had taken abundant pains to discipline
some of the l ory militia, as they were termed 5 and with
a party of these and some British troops, amounting
in the whole to about 1400 men, made incursions in¬
to the country. But on the 7th of October he was
attacked by a superior body of Americans at a place
called King’s Mountain, and totally defeated. One
hundred and fifty were killed in the action, and 810
made prisoners, of whom 150 were wounded, fifteen
hundred stand of arms also fell into the hands of the
Americans, whose loss was inconsiderable. But the
following month Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton, who con¬
tinued to exert his usual activity and bravery, with a
party of 170, chiefly cavalry, attacked and defeated
General Sumpter, who is said to have had 1000 men,
at a place called Black Stocks. Sumpter was wound¬
ed, and about 120 of the Americans killed, wounded,
or taken. Of the British troops about 50 were killed
and wounded.
On the 3d of September, the Mercury, a congress Capture t
packet, was taken by the Vestal, Captain Kcppel, near Mr Lau
Newfoundland. On board this packet was Mr Laurens,rens*
late president of the congress, who was bound on an em¬
bassy to Holland. He had thrown his papers overboard,
but great part of them were recovered without having-
received much damage. He was brought to London,
and examined before the privy council ; in consequence
of which he was committed close prisoner to the Tower
on the 6th of October, on a charge of high treason.
His papers were delivered to the ministry, and contri¬
buted to facilitate a rupture with Holland, as among
them was found the sketch of a treaty of amity and com¬
merce between the republic of Holland and the United
States of America.
At the beginning of the year 1781, an affair hap¬
pened in America, from which expectations were form¬
ed by Sir Henry Clinton, that some considerable ad¬
vantage might be derived to the royal cause. The
long
35°
United
States.
35*
Revolt of
the Penn¬
sylvania
line.
A M E
long continuance of the war, and the difficulties un¬
der which the congress laboured, had prevented their
troops from being properly supplied with necessaries
and conveniences. In consequence of this, on the 1st
of January, the American troops that were hutted at
Morris Town, and who formed what was called the
Pennsylvania line, turned out, being in number about
1300, and declared, that they would serve no longer,
unless their grievances were redressed, as they had not
received their pay, or been furnished with the necessary
clothing or provisions. It is said that they were
somewhat inflamed with liquor in consequence of rum
having been distributed to them more liberally than
usual, New-year’s-day being considered as a kind of
festival. A riot ensued, in which an officer was killed,
and four wounded 5 live or six of the insurgents were
also wounded. They then collected the artillery, stores,
provisions, and waggons, and marched out of the camp.
They passed by the quarters of General Wayne, who
sent a message to them, requesting them to desist, or
the consequences would prove fatal. They refused, and
proceeded on their march till the evening, when they
took post on an advantageous piece of ground, and
elected officers from among themselves. On the se¬
cond, they marched to Middlebrook, and on the third
to Princetown, where they fixed their quarters. On
that day a flag of truce was sent to them from the offi¬
cers of the American camp, with a message, desiring
to know what were their intentions. Some of them
answered, that they had already served longer than the
time for which they were inlisted, and would serve no
longer j and others, that they would not return, unless
their grievances were redressed. But at the same time
they repeatedly, and in the strongest terms, denied
being influenced by the least disaffection to the Ame¬
rican cause, or having any intentions of deserting to
the enemy.
Intelligence of this transaction was soon conveyed to
New York. A large body of British troops were im¬
mediately ordered to hold themselves in readiness to
move on the shortest notice, it being hoped that the
American revolters might be induced to join the royal
attemptiTtoarmy‘ Messengers were also sent to them from Gene-
iuduce ral Clinton, acquainting them that they should directly
them to be taken under the protection of the British goveru-
jom the ment; that they should have a free pardon for all for-
Joyal aimy. mer 0ft'ences . an(j that the pay due to them from the
congress should be faithfully paid them, without any
expectation of military service, unless it should be
voluntary, upon condition of their laying down their
arms and returning to their allegiance. It was also
recommended to them to move beyond the South ri¬
ver j and they were assured, that a body of British
troops should be ready to protect them whenever they
desired it. These propositions were rejected with dis¬
dain •, and they even delivered up two of Sir Henry
Clinton’s messengers to the congress. Joseph Reed,
Esq. president of the state of Pennsylvania, afterwards
repaired to them at Princetown, and an accommoda¬
tion took place : such of them as had served out their
full terms were permitted to return to their own homes,
and others again joined the American army, upon re-
Cornwallis ce‘ving satisfactory assurances that their grievances
in North should be redressed.
Carolina. Lord Cornwallis now began to make very vigorous
, 353
Ineffectual
354
Exertions
of Lord
RICA. 75
exertions, in order to penetrate into North Carolina. United
On the nth of January his lordship’s army was in btates.
motion, and advancing towards that province $ but r
was somewhat delayed by an attempt made by the A-
mericans, under General Morgan, to make themselves
masters of the valuable district of Ninety-six. In or¬
der to prevent this, Lord Cornwallis detached Lieute¬
nant-colonel Tarleton, with 300 cavalry, 300 light in¬
fantry, the 7th regiment, the 1st battalion of the 71st
regiment, and two three-pounders, to oppose the pro¬
gress of Morgan, not doubting but that he would be
able to perform this service effectually. The British
troops came up with the Americans under General
Morgan, on the 17th of January. The Americans
were drawn up in an open wood, and, having been
lately joined by some militia, were more numerous
than the British troops under Lieutenant-colonel Tarle¬
ton j but the latter were so much better disciplined,
that they had the utmost confidence of obtaining a
speedy victory. The attack was begun by the first line
of infantry, consisting of the 7th regiment and a corps
of light infantry, with a troop of cavalry placed on
each flank. The first battalion of the 71st and the re¬
mainder of the cavalry formed the reserve. The A-
merican line soon gave way, and their militia quitted
the field ; upon which the royal troops, supposing the
victory already gained, engaged with ardour in the
pursuit, and were thereby thrown into some disorder.
General Morgan’s corps, who were supposed to have
been routed, then immediately faced about, and threw
in a heavy fire on the king’s troops, which occasion¬
ed the utmost confusion amongst them j and they were
at length totally defeated by the Americans. Four Defeat of
hundred of the British infantry were either killed, Colonel
wounded, or taken prisoners: the loss of the cavalry Tarleton.
was much less considerable ; but the two three-pounders
fell into the hands of the Americans, together with the
colours of the 7th regiment j and all the detachment of
royal artillery were either killed or wounded in defence
of their colours. Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton, however,
made another effort : having assembled about 50 of his 356
cavalry, with which he charged and repulsed Colonel ^lrcrat'OMS
Washington’s horse, retook his baggage, and killed theqUence 0f
Americans who were appointed to guard it. He then that event,
retreated to Hamilton’s ford, near the mouth of Bul¬
lock’s creek, carrying with him part of his baggage,
and destroying the remainder.
Th is defeat of the troops under Tarleton wras a se¬
vere stroke to Lord Cornwallis, as the loss of his light
infantry was a great disadvantage to him. The day
after that event, he employed in collecting the remains
of Tarleton’s corps, and in endeavouring to form a
junction with General Leslie, who had been ordered to
march towards him with a body of British troops from
Wynesborough. Considerable exertions were then
made by part of the army, without baggage, to retake
the prisoners in the hands of the Americans, and to
intercept General Morgan’s corps, on its retreat to the
Catawba. But that American officer, after his defeat
of Tarleton, had made forced marches up into the
country, and crossed the Catawba the evening before
a great rain, which swelled the river to such a degree,
as to prevent the royal army from crossing for .several
days ; during which time the British prisoners were
got over the Yadkin \ whence they proceeded to Dan
K 2 River,
76
United
States,
357
:Lord Corn¬
wallis
marches
through
North Ca¬
rolina.
35s
I>arge
quantities
of Ameri¬
can stores
destroyed
by Arnold.
AMERICA.
River, which they also passed, and on the 14th of Fe¬
bruary had reached Court-house in the province of \ir-
ginia.
Ford Cornwallis employed a halt ol two days in col¬
lecting some flour, and in destroying superfluous bag¬
gage and all his waggons, excepting those laden with
hospital stores, salt, and ammunition, and four reserved
empty in readiness for sick or wounded. Being thus
freed from all unnecessary encumbrances, he marched
through North Carolina with great rapidity, and pene¬
trated to the remotest extremities of that province on
the banks of the Dan. His progress was sometimes
impeded by parties of the militia, and some skirmishes
ensued, but he met with no very considerable opposi¬
tion. On the first of February, the king’s troops cros¬
sed the Catawba at M‘Cowan’s Ford, where General
Davidson, with a party of American militia, was post¬
ed in order to oppose their passage j but he falling by
the first discharge, the royal troops made good their
landing, and the militia retreated. When Lord Corn¬
wallis arrived at Hillsborough, he erected the king’s
standard, and invited, by proclamation, all loyal sub¬
jects to repair to it, and to stand forth and take an ac¬
tive part in assisting his lordship to restore order and
government. He had been taught to believe that the
king’s friends were numerous in that part of the coun¬
try : hut the event did not confirm the truth of the re¬
presentations that had been given. The royalists were
but few in number, and some of them too timid to
join the king’s standard. There were, indeed, about
200 who were proceeding to Hillsborough, under Co¬
lonel Pyle, in order to avow their attachment to the
royal cause ; but they were met accidentally, and sur¬
rounded by a detachment from the American army, by
whom a number of them are said to have been killed
when they were begging for quarter, without making
the least resistance. Meanwhile General Greene was
marching with great expedition with the troops under
his command, in order to form a junction with other
corps of American troops, that he might thereby be
enabled to put some effectual stop to the progress of
Lord Cornwallis.
In other places some considerable advantages were
obtained by the royal arms. On the 4th of January,
some ships of war, with a number of transports, on
hoard which was a large body of troops under the com¬
mand of Brigadier-general Arnold, arrived at Westover,
about 140 miles from the capes of Virginia, where the
troops immediately landed and marched to Richmond 5
which they reached without opposition, the militia that
was collected having retreated on their approach.
Lieutenant-colonel Simcoe marched from hence with
a detachment of the British troops to Westham, where
they destroyed one of the finest founderies for cannon
in America, and a large quantity of stores and cannon.
General Arnold, on his arrival at Richmond, found
there large quantities of salt, rum, sail-cloth, tobacco,
and other merchandise } and that part of these commo¬
dities which was public property he destroyed. The
British troops afterwards attacked and dispersed some
small parties of the Americans, took some stores and
a few pieces of cannon, and on the 20th of the same
month marched into Portsmouth. On the 25th Cap¬
tain Barclay, with several ships of war, and a body of
troops under the command of Major Craig, arrived in
2-
Cape Fear river. The troops landed about nine miles United
from Wilmington, and on the 28th entered that town. States.
It was understood that their having possession of that v '
town, and being masters of Cape Fear river, would be
productive of very beneficial effects to Lord Cornwal¬
lis’s army.
General Greene having effected a junction about the
10th of Marcli with a continental regiment of what 355
were called eighteen months men, and two large bodies Different
of militia belonging to Virginia and North [Carolina,s umis eSl
formed a resolution to attack the British troops under
the command of Lord Cornwallis. The American ar¬
my marched from the High Rock Ford on the 12th of
the month, and on the 14th arrived at Guildford.
Lord Cornwallis, from the information he had received
of the motions of the American general, concluded
what were his designs. As they approached more
nearly to each other, a few skirmishes ensued between
some advanced parties, in which the king’s troops had
the advantage. On the morning of the 15th, Lord
Cornwallis marched with his troops at daybreak in or¬
der to meet the Americans, or to attack them in their
encampment. About four miles from Guildford, the
advanced guard of the British army, commanded by
Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton, fell in with a corps of
the Americans, consisting of Lieutenant-colonel Lee’s
legion, some Black Mountain men and Virginian mi¬
litia, with whom he had a severe skirmish, but whom
he at length obliged to retreat.
The greater part of the country in which the action
happened is a wilderness, with a few cleared fields in¬
terspersed. The American army, which was superior
to the royal in point of numbers, was posted on a ri¬
sing ground about a mile and a half from Guildford 360
court-house. It was drawn up in three lines : the front Battle
line was composed of the North Carolinian militia, un- 111 0
der the command of the generals Butler and Eaton ;
the second line, of \irginian militia, commanded by
the generals Stephens and Lawson, forming two bri¬
gades j the third line, consisting of two brigades, one
of Virginia and one of Maryland continental troops,
commanded by General Huger and Colonel Williams.
Lieutenant-colonel Washington, with the dragoons of
the first and third regiments, a detachment of light in¬
fantry composed of continental troops, and a regiment
of riflemen under Colonel Lynch, formed a corps of
observation for the security of their right flank. Lieu¬
tenant-colonel Lee, with his legion, a detachment of
light infantry, and a corps of riflemen under Colonel
Campbell, formed a corps of observation for the secu¬
rity of their left flank. The attack of the American
army was directed to be made by Lord Cornwallis in
the following order: On the right, the regiment of
Bose and the 71st regiment, led by Major-general Les¬
lie, and supported by the first battalion of guards j on
the left the 23d and 33d regiments, led by Lieutenant-
colonel Webster, and supported by the grenadiers and
second battalion of guards commanded by Brigadier-
general O’Hara •, the yagers and light infantry of the
guards remained in a wood on the left of the guns, and
the cavalry in the road, ready to act as'circumstances
might require.
About half an hour after one in the afternoon, the
action commenced by a cannonade, which lasted about
twenty minutes; when the British troops advanced in
three
AMERICA. 77
United ^iree co^umns an<* attacked the North Carolinian bri-
StateL gades with great vigour, and soon obliged part of
v—\ ' these troops, who behaved very ill, to quit the field ;
but the Virginian militia gave them a warm reception,
and kept up a heavy fire for a long time, till being
beaten back, the action became general almost every¬
where. The American corps under the lieutenant-
colonels Washington and Lee were also warmly en¬
gaged, and did considerable execution. Lieutenant-
colonel Tarleton had directions to keep his cavalry
compact, and not to charge without positive orders,
excepting to protect any of the corps from the most
evident danger of being defeated. rIhe excessive thick¬
ness of the woods rendered the British bayonets of little
use, and enabled the broken corps of Americans to
make frequent stands with an irregular fire. The se¬
cond battalion of the guards first gained the clear
ground near Guildford court-house, and found a corps
of continental infantry, superior in number, formed in
an open field on the left of the road. Desirous ef sig-
nalizing themselves, they immediately attacked and
soon defeated them, taking two six-pounders: but as
they pursued the Americans into the wood with too
much ardour, they were thrown into confusion by a
heavy fire, and instantly charged and driven back into
the field by Lieutenant colonel Washington’s dragoons,
TheVme- with the loss of the six-pounders they had taken. But
ricans de- the American cavalry were afterwards repulsed, and
feated. the two six-pounders again fell into the hands of the
British troops. The spirited exertions of Brigadier-
general O’Hara and of Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton,
greatly contributed to bring the action to a termina¬
tion. The British troops having at length broken the
second Maryland regiment, and turned the left flank
of the Americans, got into the rear of the Virginian
brigade, and appeared to be gaining their right, which
would have encircled the whole of the continental
troops, when General Greene thought it prudent to or¬
der a retreat. Many of the American militia disper¬
sed in the w'oods ; but the continental troops retreated
in good order to the Reedy Fork river, and crossed at
the ford about three miles from the field of action, and
there halted. When they had collected their strag¬
glers, they retreated to the iron works, 10 miles di¬
stant from Guildford, where they encamped. They
lost their artillery and two waggons laden with ammu¬
nition. It was a hard fought action, and lasted an
hour and a half. Of the British troops, the loss, as
stated by Lord Cornwallis, was 532 killed, wounded,
and missing. General Greene, in his account of the
action transmitted to the congress, stated the loss of
the continental troops to amount to 329 killed, w’ound-
ed, and missing j but he made no estimate of the loss
of the militia. Lieutenant-colonel Stuart was killed
in the action •, and Lieutenant-colonel Webster, and
the captains Schutz, Maynard and Goodriche, died of
the wounds that they received in it. Brigadier-gene¬
ral O’Hara, Brigadier-general Howard, and Lieute¬
nant-colonel Tarleton, were also wounded. Of the
Americans, the principal officer killed was Major An¬
derson of the Maryland line j and the generals Stephens
362 and Huger were wounded.
Hardships The British troops underwent great hardships in the
endured by course of this campaign j and in a letter of Lord Corn-
troo?slit^ wallis’s to Lord George Germain, dated March 1 *]th,
he observed, that “ the soldiers had been two days United
without bread.” His lordship quitted Guildford three States,
days after the battle which was fought in that place ;1 v—^
and on the 7th of April arrived in the neighbourhood
of Wilmington. Soon after, General Greene, notwith¬
standing his late defeat, endeavoured to make some
vigorous attempts against the king’s forces in South
Carolina. Lord Rawdon had been appointed to de¬
fend the post of Camden, with about 800 British and
provincials j and on the 19th of April General Greene
appeared before that place with a large body of conti¬
nentals and militia. He found it, however, impossible
to attempt to storm the town with any prospect of
success ; and therefore endeavoured to take such a po¬
sition as should induce the British troops to sally from
their works. Pie posted the Americans about a mile
from the town, on an eminence which was covered
with woods, and flanked on the left by an impassable ^
swamp. But on the morning of the 25th, Lord Raw-General
don marched out of Camden, and with great gallan-Greene at-
try attacked General Greene in his camp. The Ame-
ricans made a vigorous resistance, but were at last corn* jgJw-
pelled to give way j and the pursuit is said to have ami
been continued three miles. For some time after the defeated,
action commenced, General Greene entertained great
hopes of defeating the British troops : in which, as
the Americans were superior in point of numbers, he
would probably have succeeded, had not some capital
military errors been committed by one or two ot the
officers who served under him. On the American side
Colonel Washington bad behaved extremely well in
this action, having made upwards of 200 of the Eng¬
lish prisoners, with ten or twelve officers, before he
perceived that the Americans were abandoning the
field of battle. The loss of the English was about 100
killed and wounded. Upwards of IQO of the Americans
were taken prisoners j and, according to the account
published by General Greene, they had 126 killed and
wounded. After this action, Greene retreated to Ruge-
ley’s mills, 12 miles from Camden, in order to collect
his troops and wait for reinforcements.
Notwithstanding the advantage which Lord Rawdon
had obtained over General Greene at Camden, that
nobleman soon after found it necessary to quit that post;
and the Americans made themselves masters of several
other posts that were occupied by the king’s troops, and
the garrisons of which were obliged to surrender them¬
selves prisoners of war. These troops were afterwards
exchanged under a cartel which took place between
Lord Cornwallis and General Greene for the release of
all prisoners of war, in the southern district. After these
events, General Greene laid close siege to Ninety-six, Aftc31.^4ards
which was considered as the most oommanding and i*n-iayS siegeto
portantof all the posts in the back-country ; and on the Ninety-six.;
19th of June he attempted to storm the garrison, but but is repul-
was repulsed by the gallantry of the British troops, withsct1’
the loss, as it is said, of 75 killed and 120 wounded.
General Greene then raised the siege, and retired with
his army behind the Saluda,-to a strong situation within
16 miles of Ninety-six.
On the 18th of April a large body of British troops,
under the command of Major-general Phillips and Bri¬
gadier-general Arnold, embarked at Portsmouth in
Virginia, in order to proceed on an expedition for the
purpose of destroying some of the American stores. A
party
AMERICA.
United
States.
365
Destruc¬
tion of
American
stores.
party oP light infantry were sent ten or twelve miles up
the Chiekahomany ; where they destroyed several arm¬
ed ships, sundry warehouses, and the American state
ship-yards. At Petersburg!), the English destroyed
4000 hogsheads of.tobacco, one ship, and a number of
small vessels on the stocks and in the river. At Ches¬
terfield court-house, they burnt a range of barracks for
2000 men and 300 barrels of flour. At a place called
Osborn's, they made themselves masters of several ves¬
sels loaded with cordage and flour, and destroyed about
2000 hogsheads of tobacco, and sundry vessels were
sunk and burnt. At Warwick, they burnt a maga¬
zine of 500 barrels of flour, some fine mills belonging
to Colonel Carey, a large range of public rope-walks
and storehouses, tan and bark houses full of hides and
bark, and great quantities of tobacco. A like destruc¬
tion of stores and goods was made in other parts of
Virginia.
From the. account already given of some of the prin¬
cipal military operations of the present year in Ame¬
rica, it appears, that though considerable advantages
had been gained by the royal troops, yet no event
had taken place from which it could rationally be ex¬
pected that the final termination of the war would be
favourable to Great Britain. It was also a disadvan¬
tageous circumstance, that there was a misunderstand¬
ing between Admiral Arbuthnot and Sir Henry Clinton,
the British and a mutual disapprobation of each other’s conduct,
admiral This was manifest from their dispatches to government,
and gene- an(j especially from those of General Clinton, whose
expressions respecting the conduct of the admiral were
367 by no means equivocal.
Action be- On the 16th of March 1781, a partial action hap-
tween the pened off the capes of Virginia, between the fleet un-
British and dgj. Admiral Arbuthnot, consisting of seven ships of
fleetsToff the line and one fifty-gun ship, and a French squadron,
the capes of cons‘sting the same number of ships of the line and
Virginia, one forty-gun ship. Some of the ships in both fleets
received considerable damage in the action, and the
loss of the English was 30 killed and 73 wounded j
but no ship was taken on either side. The British fleet
had, however,considerably the advantage*, as theFrench
w'ere obliged to retire, and were supposed to be prevent¬
ed by this action from carrying troops up the Chesapeak,
in order to attack General Arnold and impede the pro¬
gress of Lord Cornwallis. But it was an unfortunate
circumstance, that some time before this engagement,
the Romulus, a ship of 44 guns, was captured by the
French off the capes of Virginia.
Lord Cornwallis, after his victory over General
Greene at Guildford, proceeded, as we have seen, to
368 Wilmington, where he arrived on the 7th of April.
Proclama- But before he reached that place, he published a pro-
tion by clamation, calling upon all loyal subjects to stand forth
Lord Corn-an4 take an active part in restoring good order and
government \ and declaring to all persons who had en¬
gaged in the present rebellion against his Majesty’s au¬
thority, hut who were now convinced of their error,
and desirous of returning to their duty and allegiance,
that if they would surrender themselves with their arms
and ammunition at head-quarters, or to the officer
commanding in the district contiguous to their respec¬
tive places of residence, on or before the 20th of that
month, they would be permitted to return to their
homes upon giving a military parole j they would be
< 3
366
Unlucky
misunder¬
standing
between
wallis.
protected in their persons and properties from all sorts United
of violence from the British troops; and would be re- State*,
scored as soon as possible to all the privileges of legal
and constitutional government. But it does not ap¬
pear that any considerable number of the Americans
were allured by these promises to give any evidences of
their attachment to the royal cause.
On the 20th of May, his lordship arrived at Peters-
burgh in Virginia, where he joined a body of British
troops that had been under the command of Major-
general Phillips ; but the command of which, in con¬
sequence of the death of that officer, had devolved up¬
on Brigadier-general Arnold. Before this junction he
had encountered considerable inconveniences from the
difficulty of procuring provisions and forage ; so that
in a letter to Sir Henry Clinton, he informed him, that
his cavalry wanted every thing, and his infantry every
thing but shoes. He added, that he had experienced
the distresses of marching hundreds of miles in a coun¬
try chiefly hostile, without one active or useful friend,
without intelligence, and without communication with
any part of the country. ^
On the 26^1 of June, about six miles from Williams-Different
burgh, Lieutenant-colonel Simcoe, and 350 of the actions
queen’s rangers, with 80 mounted yagers, were attack¬
ed by a much superior body of the Americans; but
whom they repulsed with great gallantry and with equal
success, making four officers and twenty private men
prisoners. The loss of the Americans in this action is
said to have been upwards of 120, and that of the Bri¬
tish troops not more than 40.
On the 6th of July an action happened near the Green
Springs in Virginia, between a reconnoitring party of the
Americans under General Wayne, amounting to about
800, and a large party of the British army under Lord
Cornwallis: in which the Americans had 127 killed
and wounded, and the loss of the royal troops is suppo¬
sed to have been considerably greater. It was an ac¬
tion in which no small degree of military skill and cou¬
rage was exhibited by the Americans. In a variety of
skirmishes, the marquis La Fayette very much distin¬
guished himself, and displayed the utmost ardour in
the American cause. 370
In South Carolina, an action happened on the 9th General
of September near the Fata Springs, between a large Greene de¬
body of British troops under the command of Lieute-
nant colonel Stuart and a much superior body of Ante-
ricans, said to amount to more than 4000, under the
command of General Greene. It was an obstinate en¬
gagement, and lasted near two hours ; but the Ameri¬
cans were defeated, and two of their six-pounders fell
into the hands of the English. The loss, however, of
the royal troops was very considerable ; amounting to
more than 400 killed and wounded, and upwards of
200 missing. 371
In the course of the same month, General Arnold Expedition
was sent on an expedition against New London, in^™8^^
Connecticut, where he destroyed a great part of the
shipping, and an immense quantity of naval stores, Eu¬
ropean manufactures, and East and West India com¬
modities. The town itself was also burnt, which is
said to have been unavoidable, on account of the explo¬
sions of great quantities of gunpowder which happened
to be in the storehouses that were set on fire. A fort,
of which it was thought necessary to gain possession in
this
AMERICA. • 79
United this expedition, was not taken without considerable loss.
States. This was Fort Griswold •, which was defended by the
■ V 1 Americans with great gallantry, and the assault was
made by the English with equal bravery. The British
troops entered the works with fixed bayonets, and were
opposed with great vigour by the garrison with long
spears. After a most obstinate defence of near forty
minutes, the assailants gained possession of the fort, in
which 8 ; Americans were found dead, and 6o wounded,
most of them mortally. Of the British troops Major
Montgomery was killed by a spear in entering the A-
merican works j and 192 men were also killed and
wounded in this expedition.
,a7: Notwithstanding the signal advantages that Lord
situation of Cornwallis had obtained over the Americans, his situa-
I,ord Corn-tion in Virginia began by degrees to he very critical ;
waliis. and the rather because he did not receive those rein¬
forcements and supplies from Sir Henry Clinton, of
which he had formed expectations, and which lie con¬
ceived to be necessary to the success of his operations.
Indeed, the commander in chief was prevented from
sending those reinforcements to Lord Cornwallis which
he otherwise might have done, by his fears respecting
New York, against which he entertained great appre¬
hensions that General Washington intended to make a
very formidable attack. In fact, that able American
general appears to have taken much pains, and to have
employed great finesse, in order to lead Sir Henry
Clinton to entertain this imagination. Letters, ex¬
pressive of this intention, fell into the hands of Sir
Henry, which were manifestly written with a design
that they should be intercepted, and only with a view
to amuse and deceive the British general. The project
was successful ; and by a variety of judicious military
manoeuvres, in which he completely out-generalled the
British commander, he increased his apprehensions
about New York, and prevented him from sending
proper assistance to Lord Cornwallis. Having for a
considerable time kept Sir Henry Clinton in perpetual
alarm in New York, though with an army much in¬
ferior to the garrison of that city, General Washington
suddenly quitted his camp at White Plains, crossed the
Delaware, and marched towards Virginia, apparently
with a design to attack Lord Cornwallis. Sir Henry
Clinton then received information, that the count de
Grasse, with a large French fleet, was expected every
moment in the Chesapeak, in order to co-operate with
» J575 , Genera! Washington. He immediately endeavoured,
attempts to“0^' ‘am* an(* water» t° communicate tins intorma-
afFord him tion to Lord Cornwallis ; and also sent him assurances
assistance, that he would either reinforce him by every possible
means in his power, or make the best diversion he could
in his favour. In the mean time, Lord Cornwallis had
taken possession of the posts of York town and Glou¬
cester in Virginia, where he fortified himself in the best
manner he was able.
On the 28th of August, Sir Samuel Hood, with a
squadron from the West Indies, joined the squadron
under the command of Admiral Graves before New
York. It was then necessary, on account of the situa¬
tion of Lord Cornwallis, that they should immediately
proceed to the Chesapeak ; hut some time appears to
have been needlessly lost, though Admiral Hood was
extremely anxious that no delay might be made. They
arrived, however, in the Chesapeak, on the 5th ot Sep¬
tember, with 19 ships of the line ; where they found United
the count de Grasse, who had anchored in that bay on States
the 30th of August, with 24 ships of the line. 'Hie * ~~
French admiral had previously landed a large body of
troops, which had been brought from Rhode island, and
who immediately marched to join the American army 574
under General Washington. The British and L rench Action de¬
flects came to an action on the same day in which the ^v?<!n ,i>e
former arrived in the Chesapeak. On board the British p-ypt^(1(K
fleet 90 were killed and 246 wounded j some of the fleets in the
ships were greatly damaged in the engagement, and the Chesapeak.
Terrible, a 74 gun ship, was so much shattered, that it
was afterwards found necessary to set fire to it. That
this action had not been favourable to the English, was
manifest from the event: the fleets continued in sight
of each other for five days successively, and sometimes
were very near ; but at length the French fleet all an¬
chored within the Cape, so as to block up the passage.
Admiral Graves, who was the commander in chief, then
called a council of war, in which it was resolved that the
fleet should proceed to New York, that the ships might
be there put into the best state for the service : and thus
were the French left masters of the navigation of the
Chesapeak.
Before the news of this action had reached New
York, a council of war was held there, in which it was
resolved, that 5000 men should he embarked on hoard
the king’s ships, in order to proceed to the assistance
of Lord Cornwallis. But when it was known that the
French were absolute masters of the navigation ot the
Chesapeak, it was thought inexpedient to send oft that
reinforcement immediately. In another council of war,
it was resolved, that as Lord Cornwallis had provisions
to last him till the end of October, it was advisable to
wait for more favourable accounts from Admiral
Graves, or for the arrival of Admiral Digby, who was
expected with three ships ol the line. It was not then
known at New York, that Admiral Graves had deter¬
mined to return with the whole fleet to that port.
In the mean time, the most efl’ectual measures were Danger ol
adopted by General Washington for surrounding the LoId C?rc- i~
British army under Lord Cornwallis. A large body
of French troops, under the command ot Lieutenant-
general the count de Rochambeau, with a very consider¬
able train of artillery, assisted in the enterprise. The
Americans amounted to near 8000 continentals and
5000 militia. General Washington was invested with
the authority of commander in chief of these combined
forces of America and France. Outlie 29th of Sep¬
tember, the investment of York Town was complete,
and the British army quite blocked up. The day fol¬
lowing, Sir Henry Clinton wrote a letter to Lord Corn¬
wallis, containing assurances that he would do every
thing in his power to relieve him, and some information
concerning the steps that would he taken for that pur¬
pose. A duplicate of this letter was sent to his lord¬
ship by Major Cochran on the 3d of October. That
gentleman, who was a very gallant officer, went in a
vessel to the capes, and made his way to Lord Cornwal¬
lis, through the whole French fleet, in a open boat.
He got to York Town on the 10th of the month j and
soon after his arrival had his head carried off by a can¬
non ball.
After the return of Admiral Graves to New Aork,
a council of war was held, consisting of flag and gene-
rali.
AMERICA.
rat officers: in nrlnch it was resolved, that a large a general treaty. But some jealousies were entertain,
body of troops should he embarked on hoard the king’s ed by the Americans, that it was the design of the
7 1 ~ 1 i .1 ^ .1  British court either to disunite them, or to bring them
to treat of a peace separately from their ally the king Res^tion
J. hey therefore resolved, that any man, oi of congress
United
States.
'377
.Lord Corn¬
wallis's ar¬
my obliged
to surren¬
der.
. 373
Sir Guy
Carleton
arrives at
New York,
with
powers to
treat of
peace.
ships as soon as they were refitted, and that the exer¬
tions of both fleet and army should be made in older
to form a junction with Lord Cornwallis. Sir Henry
Clinton himself embarked on board the fleet, with up¬
wards of 7000 troops, on the 18th j they arrived olf
Cape Charles, at the entrance of the Chesapeak, on
the 24th, where they received intelligence that Lord
Cornwallis had been obliged to capitulate five days
before.
It was on the 19th of October that Lord Cornwal¬
lis surrendered himself and his whole army, by capitu¬
lation, prisoners to the combined armies of America
and France, under the command of General ashing-
ton. He made a defence suitable to the character he
had before acquired lor courage r.nd military skill;
but was compelled to submit to untoward circumstan¬
ces and superior numbers. It was agreed by the arti¬
cles of capitulation, that the British troops were to
be prisoners to the United States of America, and
the seamen to the French king, to whose officers also
the British vessels found at York Town and Gloucester
were to be delivered up. The British prisoners amount¬
ed to more than 6000 ; but many of them, at the time
of surrender, were incapable of duty. A considerable
number of cannon, and a large quantity of military
stores, fell into the hands of the Americans on this oc¬
casion.
As no rational expectation now remained of a subju¬
gation of the colonies, the military operations that suc¬
ceeded in America were of little consequence. Some
inconsiderable actions and skirmishes did indeed take
place after that event*, in which the refugees chiefly
distinguished themselves, and discovered an inveterate
animosiry against the Americans. On the 5th ol May
1782, Sir Guy Carleton arrived at New York, (being
appointed to the command of the British troops in A-
merica in the room of Sir Henry Clinton. Two days
after his arrival, he wrote a letter to General Washing¬
ton, acquainting him, that Admiral Higby was joined
with himself in a commission to treat of peace with
the people of America'}, transmitting to him, at the
same time, some papers tending to manifest the pacific
disposition of the government and people of Britain
towards those of America. He also desired a passport
for Mr Morgan, who was appointed to transmit a
similar letter of compliment to the congress. General
Washington declined signing any passport till he had
taken the opinion of congress upon that measure } and
by them he was directed to refuse any passport for such
a purpose. However, another letter was sent to Gene¬
ral Washington, dated the 2d of August, and signed by
Sir Guy Carleton and Rear-Admiral Digby, in which
they informed him, that they were acquainted by au¬
thority that negotiations for a general peace had alrea¬
dy commenced at Paris *, that Mr Grenville was invest¬
ed with full powers to treat with all the parties at war }
and was then at Paris in the execution of his commis¬
sion. They farther informed him, that his majesty,
in order to remove all obstacles to that peace which he
so ardently wished to restore* had commanded his mi¬
nisters to direct Mr Grenville, that the independency
of the thirteen provinces should be proposed by him, in
the first instance, instead of making it the condition of
of France
body of men, who should presume to make any sepa-in conse-
rate or partial convention or agreement with the king quence
of Great Britain, or with any commissioner or com- eie0,
missioners under the crown of Great Britain, ought to
be considered and treated as open and avowed enemies
of the United States of America } and also that those
states could not with propriety hold any conference or
treaty with any commissioners on the part of Great
Britain, unless they should, as a preliminary thereto,
either withdraw their fleets and armies, or else, in po¬
sitive or express terms, acknowledge the independence
of the said states. They likewise resolved, that any
propositions which might be made by the court of
Great Britain, in any manner tending to violate the
treaty subsisting between them and the king of France,
ought to be treated with every mark of indignity and
contempt.
In the month of June, the town of Savannah, and Different
the whole province of Georgia, were evacuated by the places eva-
king’s troops} as was also Charlestown, South Caro-b,^
lina, about the close of the year. In the mean tinm, tr®or)“ls *
the negotiations for peace being continued, provisional
articles of peace were signed at Paris on the 3°ffi
November by the commissioner of his Britannic Ma¬
jesty and the American commissioners, in which his
majesty acknowledged the united colonies of New
Hampshire, Massachusets Bay, Rhode Island and Pro- ^Sr
vidence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, Newin4epen.
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, deney of
North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, to beAmenca
“ free, sovereign, and independent states.” They had
constituted themselves such on the 4th of July 1776 >
they had been acknowledged such by the French king
on the 30th of January 1778, when he concluded with '
them a treaty of amity and commerce } Holland had
acknowledged them as such April 19th 1782} Sweden
acknowledged them as such February 5th 1783 } Den¬
mark the 25th February, Spain in March, and Russia
in July, the same year. ss2
According to the report of the committee appoint- Loss of
ed for that purpose, the Foreign Debt of the United men and
States incurred by the war, amounted to 7,885,085 b?
dollars, and the Domestic Debt to 34,115,290} total
at 4s. 6d. each, equal to 9,450,084!. sterling, the inte¬
rest of which at 6 per cent, is 567,005!. But the cost to
Great Britain is moderately computed at 115,654,914!.
and the additional annual burden by it 4,557,575k
since January 1775. As to the loss of men during
this unhappy war, the States of America, according to
authentic estimates, lost by the sword and in prison near
80,000 men } and by the British returns at New York,
the number of soldiers killed in the service amounted to
43»633* ^ . 383
Such was the end of the contest between Great Bn-General
tain and America: A contest in which the latter at-eonseqneB-
tained to an independent rank among the nations, thatces.
may be productive of more important consequences
than can yet be foreseen *, and in which the former,
happily for herself, was forced to relinquish a sove¬
reignty that served only to repress her own internal
industry,
3S4
Constitu¬
tion of the
American
states.
3*5
Immediate
cunsequen-
ces of the
revolution
to Ame¬
rica.
industry, and retard her prosperity. She has, in the
event, only suffered a diminution of unwieldy empire,
which has been more than compensated by an increase
of population, commerce, revenues, and wealth.
As to the general constitution of the American
States : By the acts of confederation and perpetual
union, each of the colonies contracted a reciprocal
treaty of alliance and friendship for their common de¬
fence, for the maintenance of their liberties, and for
their general and mutual advantage 5 obliging them¬
selves to assist each other against all violence that might
threaten all, or any one of them, and to repel in com¬
mon all the attacks that might be levelled against all,
or any one of them, on account of religion, sovereign¬
ty, commerce, or under any other pretext whatsoever.
Each of the colonies reserved to itself alone the ex¬
clusive right of regulating its internal government, and
of framing laws in all matters not included in the ar¬
ticles of confederation.—But for the more conveni¬
ent management of the general interest of the United
States, it was determined that delegates should be an¬
nually appointed in such a manner as the legislature of
each state should direct, to meet in congress on the
first Monday of November of every year, with a power
reserved to each state to recall its delegates, or any of
them, at any time within the year, and to send others
in their stead for the remainder of the year. No state
is to he represented in congress by less than two, nor
more than seven members; and no person is capable
of being a delegate for more than three years, in any
term of six years j nor is any person, being a delegate,
capable of holding any office under the United States,
for which he, or any other for his benefit, shall receive
any salary, fees, or emoluments of any kind. In deter¬
mining questions in the United States, in congress as¬
sembled, each state is to have one vote. Every state is
to abide by the determinations of the United States in
congress assembled, on all questions which are submit¬
ted to them by the confederation. The articles of con¬
federation are to be inviolably observed by every state,
and the union is to be perpetual ; nor is any alteration,
at any time hereafter, to be made in any of them, un¬
less such alteration be agreed to in a congress of the
United States, and be afterwards confirmed by the le¬
gislature of every state.
In the mean time, the return of peace was very far
from immediately producing in the United States, all
that tranquillity and prosperity, which the eager sup¬
porters of the revolution had promised to themselves
and their country. The public finances were in such
a state of entire derangement, as rendered it utterly
impossible to make payment of the arrears due to the
army. Accordingly the whole officers and soldiers that
composed this body, which, at the end of a long war,
is always so formidable and dangerous to a free state,
were extremely discontented. Attempts were made, by
anonymous publications, to inflame their minds, which
were already sufficiently agitated, and to induce them
to unite in redressing their own grievances, while they
had still arms in their hands. ^During the time that
matters were in this state, had the commander in chief
of the army been a less virtuous.man, it is not impossi¬
ble, that the freedom of America might have been
overturned, and these colonies might have exchanged
the mild government of Britain, for a military usurpa-
VOL. II. Part I. f
AMERICA.
tion. It immediately appeared, however, that General
8l
;S5
Washington was greatly supei’ior to the temptations of
vulgar ambition. He summoned a meeting of the ge- '
neral and field officers, with a deputation of an officer
from each company, and a proper representation from
the staff of the army. Previous to the meeting, he
sent for each officer, and enlarged in private on the fa¬
tal consequences to their country, and on the loss of
reputation to the whole army, which would result from
intemperate resolutions. When the day arrived on
which they had been summoned to assemble, the 15th
of March 1783, he addressed them in a speech, well
calculated to produce calmness and moderation. He
promised to exert in their favour his whole influence,
requesting them to rely on the public faith which had
been pledged to them ; and he conjured them “ as they
valued their honour, as they respected the rights of hu¬
manity, and as they regarded the military and nation¬
al character of America, to express their utmost de¬
testation of the men, who were attempting to open the
flood-gates of civil discord, and to deluge their rising
empire with blood.” Having spoken thus, he retired.
No reply was made to his speech ; and while the assem¬
bly hesitated, the friends of tranquillity seized the hap¬
py moment, and proposed a resolution, which was car¬
ried without opposition, that no circumstances of dis¬
tress or danger should induce the American army to
sully their reputation by sedition, or to distrust the jus¬
tice of their country.
After all, however, the government was only able Dismission
to give to the army four months pay, in place of the of the arm/,
arrears of several years. Notwithstanding this great
deficiency, the soldiers suffered themselves, with tolera-
able quietness, to be disbanded towards the fall of the
year, care having been previously taken to get quit
of great numbers of the men individually, by granting
leave of absence to all that applied for it; in conse¬
quence. of which, this dangerous body of veteran troops
was soon scattered and lost in the immense extent of the
American territory. The commander in chief proceed¬
ed to Annapolis, then the seat of congress, and on the
23d of December, resigned his commission to the presi¬
dent at a public audience. He immediately retired as
a private person, to his farm of Mount Vernon, on the
banks of the Potowmack in Virginia.
But here the troubles of the country seemed only to Embarrass-
commence. During the early periods of the revolu- merits of
tion, amidst the dangers of the war, and while the pub-the Ameri-
lic zeal for independence remained ardent, the defectseans*
of the form of government were not felt. From the
mere strength which the public opinion conferred, the
congress was able to levy armies, to raise extensive
loans, and to conduct the war with vigour 5 but when
immediate danger was removed, and the selfish passions
had leisure to operate, its powers were soon found alto¬
gether inadequate to provide for the public welfare.
Articles of confederation had indeed been entered into
with a view to confer more extensive powers upon con¬
gress, but still its authority was extremely defective.
By these articles, it was entitled to require from the
different states, the sums necessary for the war, and the
public expences of the union : But as it had no power
to legislate over individuals, but only over the states
as political bodies, and possessed no means of coercion
over such states as should neglect to make good the
JL ' payments
82
Uniled
States.
AMERICA.
payments with which they were assessed, the revenue of
the union was ill paid, and all its exertions were enfee¬
bled. The congress had no power of making general
commercial regulations to bind the whole states, noi
could it even interfere toprevent theirwagingwaragainst
each other if they thought fit. Hence, irom the mu¬
tual jealousies ot thirteen separate legislatures, the
most discordant regulations arose.
As soon as the war was at an end, Great Britain
naturally treated the American states as a foreign na¬
tion, and prohibited, under pain of confiscation, any of
their commodities to be conveyed to the British West
India islands, unless in British built vessels, navigated
by British mariners. Thus the Americans were
excluded from that branch of commerce in which they
had formerly obtained most of the ready money or
specie that came into their country. With a view to
induce Great Britain to relax the severity of this and
other regulations injurious to their commerce, some of
the American states imposed heavy taxes upon goods
of British manufacture. Other states took advantage of
this circumstance to invite the British merchants to fre¬
quent their ports exclusively, and not only received all
British commodities free from any duty, but they suf¬
fered their people to engage in a smuggling traffic, for
the transportation of these commodities into the states
in which they had been heavily taxed. Thus the
same commodities which were severely taxed in Phila¬
delphia, were imported without difficulty or expence in¬
to the Jerseys, on the opposite side of the Delaware,
and were daily conveyed by illicit traders across the ri¬
ver. Hence arose a spirit of commercial jealousy, and
a warfare between the different legislatures, which fill¬
ed the whole country with a degree of dissension, little
short of hostility.
The Americans were at the same time in a great mea¬
sure excluded from the trade to the Mediterranean.
They could no longer navigate that sea with safety, a
privilege which as British subjects they had always en¬
joyed. As the congress possessed no funds, wherewith
to enter into a compromise with the piratical states of
Barbary, to whom all Europe pays tribute, the Ame¬
rican vessels were constantly exposed to danger. Being
unable to defend themselves from the corsairs, they were
obliged either to relinquish the beneficial trade which
they had formerly possessed in that quarter, or to en¬
sure it at a 'ruinous premium.
Independent of these partial evils, the general ba¬
lance of trade speedily became extremely unfavourable
to the United States. The debts due from the mer¬
chants to Great Britain, the payment of which had
been prohibited by congress during the war, were now
impatiently demanded.- The American merchants were
almost universally sued, and the remnant of their effects
seized by the agents of British houses. To relieve
their own distress, they proceeded against the retailers,
who had been unable to pay them during the war, and
to whom peace had not yet restored prosperity. In this
way the old traders were almost universally ruined, and
compelled to abandon all commercial concerns. At
the same time, how'ever, as the ravages of armies and
the want of a free communication between Europe and
America during the war, had multiplied the wants of
the latter1, an inundation of European manufactures
was one of the first effects that followed the establish-
3
3S8
ment of peace. These were purchased by the Ameri¬
cans far beyond their means of payment, and thus almost
every person connected with commerce was brought to
ruin, and a great part of the people were involved in
their distress.
All there evils were aggravated by the want of an
efficient government. Congress had incurred debts, and
issued paper money lor payment ol the interest of these
debts, or of the current public expences ; but as it pos¬
sessed no efficient revenue, its paper was soon depreci¬
ated, and became an object of speculation. Dishonest
men paid their debts with it, and thus defrauded their
creditors, and the morality of the people was severely
wounded. The several states had themselves also con¬
tracted debts for the war. Some states willing to fund
their debts, imposed taxes for the purpose, which w'ere
so far beyond the means of the inhabitants, that they
could not be levied without extreme rigour. The extre¬
mities to which government proceeded in these cases,
occasioned general discontents, and even produced an in¬
surrection in the state of Massachusets.—From all these
causes, an embarrassed commerce, a depreciated paper
money which inundated all America, the inability of
the laws to enforce payment of the taxes, a spirit oi jea¬
lousy between the different states, and the inadequacy of
congress to apply a remedy to these complicated evils,
something little short of anarchy was produced in the
United States.
In the midst of these calamities, a proposition was Proposal of
made in 1785, in the house of delegates in Virginia, to a new coa-
appoint commissioners to meet such commissioners asstitution.
other states might appoint, to form a system of com¬
mercial regulations for the United States. According¬
ly, several states appointed commissioners, who, in 1786,
assembled at Annapolis. But, as the states were not
all represented, and the commissioners thought their
own powers too limited to authorize them to propose a
proper remedy for the evils that pressed upon their coun¬
try, they agreed to recommend a general convention,
to be held at Philadelphia the following year, with Qonyg^tjon
power to frame a general plan of government for the 0f pjjj]a(jej.
United States. In consequence of this recommenda-phia.
tion, in May 1787 delegates from all the states, except
Bhode Island, assembled at Philadelphia, and chose
General Washington for their president. They sat
four months, and deliberated in private. Their debates
have never been publishedj but they are known to
have been extremely animated. The public opinion
was, at that period, by no means fixed with regard to
the kind of government that ought to be adopted. At
the commencement of the war, a considerable party dis¬
liked the violent measures of their countrymen. At
different periods about 30,000 men had been in the
service of Great Britain. This implied that a large
body of royalists existed in America. Even of those
who disliked the supremacy of Britain, and wished to
establish American independence, many were by no
means prepared to relish the whole principles of a re-,
publican government. When the question, therefore,
came to be agitated concerning the best political con¬
stitution for the United States, a variety of opinions
were broached. These, however, in a great measure
resolved themselves into two systems: one party, at
that time called federalists, wished to establish a con¬
stitution as purely republican as possible) and the other
party»
AMERICA.
United party, then called antifederalists, wished to give the new
Mates, government a monarchical character and tendency. It
v is even said that some were not wanting who eagerly
desired to copy closely the model of the Biitish consti¬
tution. This was not wonderful. Under the principles
of that constitution Britain had become a great nation,
and America had prospered. It was the most free form
of government at that time known. The vices which
had crept into it were evidently independent of its ra¬
dical structure, and might easily be avoided in a new
country. By adopting this tried and well known form
of government, it was said that the hazard of new ex¬
periments would be avoided, and the states might at
once place themselves in a secure train of prosperity.
But the feelings of the people at the time were, upon
the whole, hostile to these reasonings. Their sufferings,
in consequence of British hostility, were too recent to
permit them to regard with complacency, in specula¬
tion, a system which in practice they had taught them¬
selves to dislike. Their pride would not suffer them to
become the servile imitators of another nation ; and the
public sentiments were so generally republican, as to
lead them to dislike all kinds of permanent or hereditary
ranks and privileges. Hence, when in the early sittings
of the convention of Philadelphia a plan was presented,
which proposed the establishment of a president for life,
and senators for life, and expressed a desire to render
these offices hereditary, and to subject the laws of the
respective states to the review of the general govern¬
ment, it met with no adequate support and a commit¬
tee was appointed to prepare a plan of a new constitu¬
tion for the United States.
In addition to the divisions that existed among the
members of this convention, from their tendency to re¬
publican or to monarchical principles, they were also di¬
vided in consequence of the different interests of their
constituents. The votes were given by states, and when
the delegates of a state differed in opinion, the majority
was reckoned the vote of the state, he greater states,
after a considerable contest, carried the point, that in the
new house of representatives, the representation should
stand upon the basis of the population of each state,
though they were under the necessity of conceding to
the lesser states, that each state should be equally repre¬
sented in the new senate. V irginia and the southern
states, with the aid of the antifederalists, in opposition to
the federalist or republican party, obtained the strange
privilege, in a nation of freemen, of numbering three-
fifths of their slaves as a part of their population in all
questions about the number of their representatives. In
other questions, however, the delegates of the great
states frequently voted with the federalist party, though,
upon the whole, the more zealous republicans were
greatly disgusted by many articles of the new constitu¬
tion. Of these the celebrated Dr Franklin was one.
He had the integrity, and the moderation, however, on
this occasion, to prefer the peace of his country to his
private political opinions j and when the plan was com¬
pleted, he proposed that it should be signed by all the
members of the convention, that from their apparent
unanimity, it might have the better chance of being
Speech°of accepted by the different states. “In the long career
Franklin. ^ have already run” (said that eminent statesman and
philosopher), “ I have more than once been compelled
to abandon opinions I had openly maintained, and
83
which I thought well founded from the deep considera- United
tion I had given them. As I grow older I am more States,
and more disposed to question my own judgment, and ~ ^
to pay respect to that of others. There are some men,
as well as some religious sects, who imagine that reason
is entirely on their side j and that their opponents plunge
deeper into error in proportion as they depart from
their opinions. Struck with these examples, which are
but too common, I accept of this constitution with all
its faults, even supposing I am not mistaken in my
opinion of its faults ; for I am persuaded that a general
government is necessary to our safety, and that no form
of government that is well administered is incapable of
producing the happiness of the people ; and I think
there is reason to believe that this constitution will be
well administered for a number of years, and that it
will not end, as too many other governments have done,
in despotism, unless the American people shall reach
that degree of corruption, in which, at once incapable
of being directed by a free constitution, and unworthy
of its blessings, despotism becomes necessary to their ex¬
istence. I therefore give my vote for this constitution,
both because, in the present circumstances of this na¬
tion, I cannot hope to see one more perfect, and because
I am not sure this is not as perfect as any it can have.
I make a sacrifice of the opinion I have expressed of its
defects to the public happiness. I have never uttered my
objections out of this house; here they had their birth,
and here I wish them to be for ever buried. If every
one of us who have opposed the constitution, when we
return to our constituents, were to unfold the motives
of our opposition, and endeavour to gain partisans to
our side, perhaps we might prevent the unanimous
adoption of the constitution ; but, by this, we should
only lose the advantage which the appearance of una¬
nimity will give us with foreign nations, and indeed
with our own people. The general good opinion of a
nation respecting its government is as necessary as the
wisdom and integrity of its administration, to the hap¬
piness of its people. I trust, therefore, both for our
own safety as members of the community, and for the
sake of our posterity, that we shall be of one mind, in
recommending this constitution wherever our influence
reaches ; and that afterwards our whole thoughts will be
bent to its happy administration. I cannot forbear to
form the wish that such of us as still entertain objections
to this constitution will follow my example, and doubt
a little of their infallibility, and sign this constitutional
act, that no question may be left of our unanimity.”
The authority and example of Franklin prevailed, and
the following constitution was unanimously transmitted
by the convention to the different states for their accep-
tance. . 3?i
“ We, the people of the United States, in order toConstitvs-
form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure do*ff0,K
mestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence,
promote the general welfare, and secure the blessing of
liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and
establish this constitution for the United States of A-
merica.
Article I.
“ Section 1. All legislative powers herein granted shall
be vested in a congress of the United States, which shall
consist of a senate and house of representatives.
L 2 Sect.
84 A M E
United “ Sect. 2. The house of representatives shall be com-
States. posed of members chosen every second year by the peo-
~ ' pie of the several states j and the electors in each state
shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the
most humerous branch of the state legislature.
“ No person shall be a representative who shall not
have attained to the age of 25 years, and been seven
years a citizen of the United States 5 and who shall not,
when elected, be an inhabitant of the state in which he
shall be chosen.
“ Representatives, and direct taxes, shall be appor-
1 tioned among the several states which may be included
within the union, according to their respective num¬
bers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole
number of free persons, including those bound to service
for a term of years, and excluding Indians not taxed,
three-fifths of all other persons. The actual enumera¬
tion shall he made within three years after the first
meeting of the congress of the United States, and within
every subsequent term of ten years, in such manner as
they shall by law direct. The number of representa¬
tives shall not exceed one for every 30,000 : but each
state shall have at least one representative ; and until
such enumeration shall be made, the state of New Hamp¬
shire shall be entitled to choose three, Massachusets eight,
Rhode Island and Providence Plantations one, Con¬
necticut five, New York six, New Jersey, four, Penn¬
sylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia
ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Geor¬
gia three.
“ When vacancies happen in the representation from
any state, the executive authority thereof shall issue writs
of election to fill such vacancies.
“ The house of representatives shall choose their
speaker and other officers j and shall have the sole power
of impeachment.
“ Sect. 3. The senate of the United States shall be
composed of two senators from each state, chosen by the
legislature thereof, for six years : and each senator shall
have one vote.
“ Immediately after they shall be assembled, in con¬
sequence of the first election, they shall be divided, as
equally as may be, into three classes. The seats of the
senators of the first class shall be vacated at the expira¬
tion of the second year ; of the second class, at the ex¬
piration of the fourth year ; and the third class, at the
expiration of the sixth year ; so that one-third may be
chosen every second year : and if vacancies happen by
resignation or otherwise, during the recess of the legisla¬
ture of any state, the executive thereof may make tem¬
porary appointments until the next meeting of the le¬
gislature, which shall then fill such vacancies.
“ No person shall he a senator who shall not have at¬
tained to the age of 30 years, and been nine years a ci¬
tizen of the United States, and who shall not, when
elected, be an inhabitant of that state for which he shall
be chosen.
“ The vice-president of the United States shall be
president of the senate, but shall have no vote, unless
they be equally divided.
“ The senate shall choose their other officers, and al¬
so a president pro tempore m the absence of the vice-pre¬
sident, or when he shall exercise the office of president
of the United States.
“ The senate shall have the sole power to try all
II I C A.
impeachments : When sitting for that purpose they shall United
be on oath or affirmation. When the president of the States
United States is tried, the chief justice shall preside: and 1—'
qo persons shall be convicted without the concurrence of
two-thirds of the members present.
“ Judgment in cases of impeachment shall not ex¬
tend farther than to removal from office, and disqua¬
lification to hold and enjoy any office of honour, trust,
or profit under the United States ; but the party con¬
victed shall nevertheless be liable and subject to in¬
dictment, trial, judgment, and punishment, according
to law.
“ Sect. 5. The times, places, and manners of hold¬
ing elections for senators and representatives shall be
prescribed in each state by the legislature thereof $ but
the congress may at any time, by law, make or alter
such regulations, except as to the placing or choosing
senators.
“ The congress shall assemble at least once in every
year 5 and such meeting shall be on the first Monday
in December, unless they shall by law appoint a differ¬
ent day.
“ Sect. 5. Each house shall be the judge of the elec¬
tions, returns, and qualifications of its own members j
and a majority of each shall constitute a quorum to do
business 5 but a small number may adjourn from day to
day, and may be authorized to compel the attendance of
absent members, in such manner, and under such pe¬
nalties, as each house may provide.
“ Each house may determine the rules of its pro¬
ceedings, punish its members for disorderly behaviour,
and, with the concurrence of two thirds, expel a mem¬
ber.
“ Each house shall keep a journal of its proceedings,
and from time to time publish the same, excepting such
parts as may in their judgments require secrecy; and the
yeas and nays of the members of either house on any
question shall, at the desire of one-fifth of those present,
be entered on the journal.
“ Neither house during the session of congress shall,
without the consent of the other, adjourn for more than
three days, nor to any other place than that in which
the two houses shall be sitting.
“ Sect. 6. The senators and representatives shall re¬
ceive a compensation for their services, to be ascertained
by law, and paid out of the treasury of the United States.
They shall in all cases,except treason, felony, and breach
of peace, be privileged from arrest during their attend¬
ance at the session of their respective houses, and in go¬
ing to and returning from the same 5 for any speech or
debate in either house, they shall not be questioned in
any other place,
“ No senator or representative shall, during the time
for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil
office under the authority of the United States, which
shall have been created, or the emoluments whereof
shall have been increased during such time : and no
person holding any office under the United States shall
be a member of either house during his continuance in
office.
“ Sect. 7. All bills for raising revenue shall originate
in the house of representatives ; but the senate may pro¬
pose or concur with amendments as on other bills.
“ Every bill which shall have passed the house of re¬
presentatives and the senate, shall, before it becomes
A M E
United a ta'v> presented to the president of the United
States. States : if he approve, he shall sign it ; but if not, he
—v—' shall return it with his objections to that house in which
it shall have originated, who shall enter the objections
at large on their journal, and proceed to re-consider it.
If after such re-consideration two-thirds of that house
shall agree to pass the bill, it shall be sent, together
with the objections, to the other house, by which it
shall likewise be re-considered ; and if approved by
two-thirds of that house, it shall become a law. But
in all such cases the votes of both houses shall be de¬
termined by yeas and nays j and the names of the
persons voting for and against the bill shall be entered
on the journal of each house respectively. If any bill
shall not be returned by the president within ten days
(Sundays excepted) after it shall have been presented
to him, the same shall be a law, in like manner as if he
had signed it, unless the congress, by their adjourn¬
ment, prevent its return} in which case it shall not be
a law.
“ Every order, resolution, or vote, to which the
concurrence of the senate and house of representatives
may be necessary, (except on a question ol adjourn¬
ment), shall be presented to the president of the United
States 5 and before the same shall take effect, shall be
approved by him, or, being disapproved by him, shall
be re-passed by two-thirds of the senate and house of
representatives 5 according to the rules and limitations
prescribed in the case of a bill.
“ Sect. 8. The congress shall have power
“ To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and ex¬
cises, to pay the debts and provide for the common de¬
fence and general welfare of the United States *, but all
duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform throughout
the United States :
“ To borrow money on the credit of the United
States :
“ To regulate commerce with foreign nations, and
among the several states, and with the Indian tribes :
“ To establish an uniform rule of naturalization, and
uniform laws on the subject of bankruptcies throughout
the United States:
“ To coin money, regulate the value thereof and
of foreign coin, and fix the standard of weights and
measures :
“ To provide for the punishment of counterfeiting the
securities and current coin of the United States
“ To establish post-offices and post-roads:
“ To promote the progress of science and useful
arts, by securing, for limited times, to authors and in¬
ventors, the exclusive right to their respective writings
and discoveries:
“ To constitute tribunals inferior to the supreme
courts :
“ To define and punish piracies and felonies com¬
mitted on the high seas, and ollences against the larv of
nations :
“ To declare war, grant letters of marque and re¬
prisal, and make rules concerning captures on land and
water:
“ To raise and support armies ; but no appropria¬
tion of money to that use shall be for a longer term than
two years :
“ To provide and maintain a navy :
II I C A. P-5
“ To make rules for the government and regulation United
of the land and naval forces : States.
“ To provide for the calling forth the militia to exe- ’-‘T—-^
cute the laws of the union, suppress insurrections, and
repel invasions :
“ To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplin¬
ing the militia *, and for governing such part of them
as may be employed in the service of the United
States j reserving to the states, respectively, the ap¬
pointment of the officers, and the authority of training
the militia according to the discipline prescribed by
congress :
“ To exercise exclusive legislation in all cases what¬
soever over such district (not exceeding ten miles square)
as may, by cession of particular states and the accept¬
ance of congress, become the seat of government ot the
United States, and to exercise like authority over all
places purchased by the consent of the legislature of the
state in which the same shall be, for the erection of
forts, magazines, arsenals, dockyards, and other need¬
ful buildings :—and
“ To make all laws which shall be necessary and
proper for carrying into execution the foregoing powers,
and all other powers vested by this constitution in the
government of the United States, or in any department
or office thereof.
“ Sect. 9. The migration or importation of such per¬
sons as any of the states now existing shall think pro¬
per to admit, shall not be prohibited by the congress
prior to the year 1808 ; but a tax or duty may be im¬
posed on such importation not exceeding ten dollars for
each person.
“ The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not
be suspended, unless when in cases of rebellion or inva¬
sion the public safety may require it.
“ No bill of attainder, or cx post facto law, shall be
passed.
“ No capitation, or other direct tax, shall be laid,,
unless in proportion to the census or enumeration herein
before directed to be taken.
“ No tax or duty shall be laid on articles exported
from any state :—No preference shall be given by any
regulation of commerce or revenue to the ports of ona
state over those of another ; nor shall vessels bound to
or from one state be obliged to enter, clear, or pay du¬
ties in another.
“ No money shall be drawn from the treasury but
in consequence of appropriations made by law j and a
regular statement and account of the receipts and ex¬
penditures of all public money shall be published from
time to time.
“ No title of nobility shall be granted by the United
States j and no person holding any office of profit or
trust under them, shall, without the consent of the con¬
gress, accept of any present, emolument, office or title
of any kind whatever, from any king, prince, or fo¬
reign state.
“ Sect. 10. No state shall enter into any treaty, al¬
liance, or confederation } grant letters of marque and
reprisal; coin money ; emit bills of credit j make any
thing but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of
debts j pass any hill of attainder, ex post facto law, or
law impairing the obligation of contracts, or grant any
title of nobility. .
“ Na
86
United
States.
AMERICA.
No state shall, without the consent of the congress,
lay any imposts or duties on imports or exports, except
what may be absolutely necessary for executing its in¬
spection laws ; and the net produce of all duties and
imposts laid by any state on imports or exports shall be
for the use of the treasury of tbe United States 5 and
all such laws shall be subject to the revision and con-
troul of the congress. No state shall, without the con¬
sent of congress, lay any duty of tonnage, keep troops
or ships of war in time of peace, enter into any agree¬
ment or compact with another state or with a foreign
power, or engage in war unless actually invaded, or in
such imminent danger as will not admit of delay.
Article II.
“ Sect. i. The executive power shall be vested in
a president of the United States of America. He shall
hold his office during the term of four years, and toge¬
ther with the vice-president, chosen for the same term,
be elected as follows :
“ Each state shall appoint, in such manner as the le¬
gislature thereof may direct, a number of electors equal
to the whole number of senators and representatives to
which the states may be entitled in the congress ; but
no senator, or representative, or person holding an office
of trust or profit under the United States shall be ap¬
pointed an elector.
“ The electors shall meet in their respective states,
and vote by ballot, for two persons, of whom one at
least shall not be an inhabitant of the same state with
themselves. And they shall make a list of all the per¬
sons voted for, and of the number of votes for each 5
which list they shall sign, and certify, and transmit,
sealed, to the seat of the government of the United
States, directed to the president of the senate. The
president of the senate shall, in the presence of the se¬
nate and house of representatives, open all the certifi¬
cates ; and all the votes shall then be counted. The
person having the greatest number of votes, shall be the
president, if such number be a majority of the whole
number of electors appointed j and if there be more
than one who have such majority, and have an equal
number of votes, then the house of representatives shall
immediately choose by ballot one of them for president $
and if no person have a majority, then, from the five
highest on the list, the said house shall, in like manner,
choose the president. But in choosing the president,
the votes shall be taken by states, the representatives
from each state having one votej a quorum for this pur¬
pose shall consist of a member or members from two-
thirds of the states, and a majority of all the states shall
be necessary to a choice. In every case after the choice
of the president, the person having the greatest number
of votes of the electors shall be the vice-president. But
if there should remain two or more who have equal
votes, the senate shall choose from them by ballot the
vice-president.
“ The congress may determine the time of choosing
the electors, and the day on which they shall give
their votes 5 which day shall be the same throughout
the United States.
“ No person except a natural-born citizen, or -a
citizen of the United States at the time of the adoption
of this constitution, shall be eligible to the office of pre¬
sident ; neither shall any person be eligible to that
office who shall not have attained to the age of 35
years, and been 14 years a resident within the United
States.
“ In case of the removal of the president from office,
or of his death, resignation or inability to discharge
the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall
devolve on the vice-president, and the congress may
by law provide for the case of removal, death, resigna¬
tion, or inability both of the president and vice-presi¬
dent, declaring what officer shall then act as president j
and such officer shall act accordingly until the disability
be removed or a president shall be elected.
“ The president shall, at stated times, receive for-his
services a compensation which shall neither he increased
nor diminished during the period for which he shall
have been elected, and he shall not receive within that
period any other emolument from the United States, or
any of them.
“ Before he enter on the execution of his office he
shall take the following oath or affirmation.
“ I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faith¬
fully execute the office of president of the United
States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve,
protect, and defend the constitution of the United
States.
“ Sect. 2. The president shall be commander in
chief of the army and navy of the United States, and of
the militia of the several states when called into the
actual service of the United States : he may require
the opinion in writing of the principal officer in each
of the executive departments, upon any subject relating
to the duties of their respective offices; and he shall
have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offences
against the United States, except in cases of impeach¬
ment.
“ He shall have power, by and with the advice and
consent of the senate, to make treaties, provided two-
thirds of the senators present concur; and he shall no¬
minate, and by and with the advice and consent of
the senate, shall appoint ambassadors, other public mi¬
nisters, and consuls, judges of the supreme court, and
all other officers of the United States, whose appoint¬
ments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which
shall be established by law. But the congress may by
law vest the appointment of such inferior officers as they
think proper, in the president alone, in the courts of
law, or in the heads of departments.
“ The president shall have power to fill up all va¬
cancies that may happen during the recess of the senate,
by granting commissions, which shall expire at the end
of their next session.
“ Sect. 3. He shall from time to time give to the con¬
gress information of the state of the union, and recom¬
mend to their consideration such measures as he shall
judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordi¬
nary occasions, convene both houses, or either of them ;
and in case of disagreement between them with respect
to the time of adjournment, he may adjourn them to
such time as he shall think proper: he shall receive am¬
bassadors, and other public ministers; he shall take care
that the laws be faithfully executed, and shall commis¬
sion all the officers of the United States.
“ Sect. 4. The president, vice-president, and all ci¬
vil
United
States.
A M E R I C A. 87
United vil officers of the United States shall be removed from
States, office on impeachment for a conviction of treason, bri-
bery, or other high crimes and misdemeanours.
Article III.
“ Sect. 1. The judicial power of the United States
shall be vested in one supreme court, and in such in¬
ferior courts as the congress may from time to time or¬
dain and establish. The judges both of the supreme and
inferior courts shall hold their offices during good beha¬
viour, and shall at stated times receive for their services,
a compensation which shall not be diminished duringtheir
continuance in office.
“ Sect. 2. The judicial power shall extend to all
cases in law and equity arising under this constitution,
the laws of the United States, and treaties made or
which shall be made under their authority j to all cases
affecting ambassadors, other public ministers and con¬
suls j to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction j
to controversies to which the United States shall he
party 5 to controversies between two or more states,
between a state and citizens of another state, be¬
tween citizens of different states, between citizens of
the same state claiming lands under grants of different
states, and between a state, or the citizens thereof, and
foreign states, citizens, or subjects.
“ In all cases affecting ambassadors, other public
ministers and consuls, and those in which a state shall
be party, the supreme court shall have original juris¬
diction. In all the other cases before mentioned the su¬
preme court shall have appellate jurisdiction both as to
law and fact, with such exceptions and under such regu¬
lations as the congress shall make.
“ The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeach¬
ment, shall be by jury j and such trial shall be held in
the state where the said crime shall have been commit¬
ted 5 but when not committed within any state, the
trial shall be at such place or places as the congress may
by law have directed.
“ Sect. 3. Treason against the United States shall
consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering
to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No
person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the testi¬
mony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on con¬
fession in open court.
“ The congress shall have power to declare the pu¬
nishment of treason, but no attainder of treason shall work
corruption of blood or forfeiture, except during the life
of the person attainted.
Article IV.
“ Sect. I. Full faith and credit shall be given in each
state to the public acts, records, and judicial proceed¬
ings of every other state, and the congress may by ge¬
neral laws prescribe the manner in which such acts, re¬
cords, and proceedings shall be proved, and the effect
thereof.
“ Sect. 2. The citizens of each state shall be entitled
to all the privileges and immunities of citizens in the
several states.
“A person charged in any state with treason, felony,
or other crime, who shall flee from justice, and be
found in another state, shall, on demand of the execu¬
tive authority of the state from which he fled, he deli¬
vered up, to be removed to the state having jurisdiction United
of the crime. States.
“ No person held to service or labour in one state,
under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in
consequence of any law or regulation therein, be dis¬
charged from such service or labour, but shall be deliver¬
ed up on claim of the party to whom such service or la¬
bour may be due.
“ Sect. 3. New states may be admitted by the con¬
gress into this union : but no new state shall be formed
or erected within the jurisdiction of any other statej
nor any state be formed by the junction of two or
more states or parts of states, without the consent of the
legislatures of the states concerned as well as of the con¬
gress.
“ The congress shall have power to dispose of and
make all needful rules and regulations respecting the
territory or other property belonging to the United
States ; and nothing in this constitution shall be con¬
strued as to prejudice any claims of the United States’,
or of any particular state.
“ Sect. 4. The United States shall guarantee to every
state in this union a republican form of government,
and shall protect each of them against invasion, and on
application of the legislature or of the executive, (when
the legislature cannot be convened) against domestic
violence.
Article V.
“ The congress, whenever two-thirds of both houses
shall deem it necessary, shall propose amendments to
this constitution, or, on the application of the legisla¬
tures of two-thirds of the several states, shall call a
convention for proposing amendments, which, in ei¬
ther case, shall he valid to all intents and purposes as
part of this constitution, when ratified by the legislatures
of three-fourths of the several states, or by conventions
in three-fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of
ratification may be proposed by the congress j provided
that no amendment which may be made prior to the year
1808, shall in any manner affect the first and fourth
clauses in the ninth section of the first article ; and that
no state, without its consent, shall he deprived of its equal
suffrage in the senate.
Article VI.
“ All debts contracted and engagements entered into,,
before the adoption of this constitution, shall be as valid
against the United States under this constitution as under
the confederation.
“ This constitution and the laws of the United States
shall be made in pursuance thereof j and all treaties made,
or which shall he made, under the authority of the
United States, shall be the supreme law of the land;
and the judges in every state shall be bound thereby, any
thing in the constitution or laws of any state to the con¬
trary notwithstanding.
“ The senators and representatives before mentioned,
and the members of the several state legislatures, and all
executive and judicial officers, both ot the United States
and of the several states, shall be bound by cath or affir¬
mation to support this constitution ; but no religious test
shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or
public trust under the United States.
Article.
SB
United
States.
Connecticut,
New York,
New Jersey,
Pennsylvania,
A M E
Article VII.
« The ratification of the convention of nine states
shall be sufficient for the establishment of this constitu¬
tion between the states so ratifying the same.
“ Done in convention, by the unanimous consent of
the states present, the 17th clay of September, in the
year of our Lord 1787, and of the independence of the
United States of America the 12th. In witness where¬
of, we have hereunto subscribed our names :
George Washington, president and deputy of Virginia.
J)cp. of New Hampshire, John Langdon
Nicolas Gilman
Massachusets, Nathaniel Gorham
Rufus King
William Samuel Johnson
Roger Sherman
Alexander Hamilton
William Livingston
David Brearly
William Paterson
Jonathan Dayton
Benjamin Franklin
Thomas Mifiin
Robert Morris
George Clymer
Thomas Fitz-simons
Jared Ingersoll
James Wilson
Gouverneur Morris
George Read
Gunning Bedford, junior
Richard Bassett
Jacob Broom
James Mac Henry
Daniel St Thomas Jenifer
Daniel Carroll
John Blair
James Maddison, junior
William Blount
Richard Dobbspaight
Hugh Williamson
South Carolina, John Rutledge
Charles Cotesworth Pinckney
Charles Pinckney
Pierce Butler
William Few
Abraham Baldwin.
Attested, William Jackson,secretary.
To the constitution the following resolutions were
added:
“ That the preceding constitution be laid before
the United States in congress assembled, and that it is
the opinion of this convention, that it should afterwards
be submitted to a convention of delegates, chosen in
each state by the people thereof, under the recommen¬
dation of its legislature for their assent and ratification •,
and that each convention assenting to, and ratifying the
same, should give notice thereof to the United States in
congress assembled.
“ Resolved, that it is the opinion of this convention,
that as soon as the conventions of nine states shall have
ratified this constitution, the United States in congress
Delaware,
Maryland,
Virginia,
North Carolina,
Georgia,
RICA.
assembled, should fix a day on which the electors should United
be appointed by the states which shall have ratified the States,
same, and a day on which the electors should assemble 'y-—j
to vote for the president, and the time and place for
commencing proceedings under this constitution. J hat
after such publication the electors should be appointed
and the senators and representatives elected. That the
electors should meet on the day fixed for the election
of the president, and should transmit their votes certi¬
fied, signed, sealed, and directed, as the constitution re¬
quires, to the secretary of the United States in congress
assembled j that the senators and representatives should
convene at the time and place assigned 5 that the sena¬
tors should appoint a president of the senate for the sole
purpose of receiving, opening, and counting the votes
for president; and that after he shall be chosen, the
congress, together with the president, shall proceed
without delay to execute this constitution.
The ten following articles were afterwards, in 1789, Additions
proposed by congress to be added to the constitution jto.C(>iJ,
and having received the ratification required by articlestltutl®n*
fifth of the above constitution, they are to be regarded
as forming a part of it.
Article I.
“ Congress shall make no law respecting an esta¬
blishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise
thereof *, or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the
press, or the right of people peaceably to assemble,
and to petition tfie government for a redress of grievan¬
ces.
Article II.
“ A well-regulated militia beigg necessary to the se¬
curity of a free state, the right of the people to keep
and bear arms shall not be infringed.
Article III.
“ No soldier shall in time of peace be quartered in
any house, without the consent of the owner, nor in
time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.
Article IV.
“ The right of the people to be secure in their per¬
sons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable
searches and seizures, shall not be violated: and no
warrants shall issue but upon probable cause, support¬
ed by oath or affirmations j and particularly describing
the place to be searched, and the person or things to
be seized.
Article V.
“ No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or
otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment
or indictment of a grand jury, excepting in cases aris¬
ing in the land or naval forces, or in the militia when
in actual service in time of war or public danger j nor
shall be tried twice for the same offence } nor shall be
compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against
himself 5 nor be derived of life, liberty, or property,
without due process of law : nor shall private property
be taken for public use, without just compensation.
Article VI.
“ In all criminal prosecutions, the accused party
shall
A M E B I C A.
United shall enjoy the right to speedy antd public trial by.an
, States. Impartial jury of the state and district wherein the
crime shall have been committed, which district shall
have been previously ascertained by law j and to be
informed of the nature and cause of the accusation, to
be confronted with the witnesses against him j to have
compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his fa¬
vour j and to have the assistance of counsel for his de¬
fence.
Article VII.
“ In suits at common law, where the value in con¬
troversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial
by jury shall be preserved j and no fact tried by a jury
shall be otherwise re-examined in any court of the U-
nited States, than according to the rules of the common
law.
Article VIII.
“ Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive
fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments in¬
flicted.
Article IX.
“ The enumeration in the constitution of certain
rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others
retained by the people.
Article X.
“ The powers not delegated to the United States
by the constitution, nor prohibited by it tb the states,
are reserved to the states respectively or to the peo¬
ple.”
Opposition refere»ce of the constitution to the several states
to the con-he adopted or rejected by them, in conventions
stitution. assembled for that special purpose, occasioned the most
violent debates. Pamphlets poured from the press,
and the newspapers were daily filled with discus¬
sions of the merits and defects of the proposed plan
of government. Three states, Delaware, New Jersey,
and Georgia, accepted the coVistitution unanimously j
but in the other states the parties were more nearly ba¬
lanced. The conventions convoked by the state legisla-
tui es, went into an analysis ot the constitution in de¬
tail. This took place more especially in Pennsylva¬
nia, New York, Alassachusets, and V irginia 5 and every
part of it was made the subject of separate votes.
Jhe objections stated against the constitution were
chiefly the following : That the convention was only
entitled to revise the articles of the original confede-
lation, and had exceeded its powers in framing a new
constitution, more especially, as it had declared the
acceptance of this constitution by nine states sufficient
to make it law: I hat the constitution ought to have
been preceded by a declaration of rights to secure to
the several states their particular constitution. It was
alleged, that the proposed senate would possess exces¬
sive powers and privileges, by being authorized to
make amendments in money bills, by its concurring
with the president in the nomination to places, while
its members were eligible to every appointment, and
by its having the sole trial of impeachments entrusted
to it. The prerogative given to the president to pardon
criminals convicted of high treason, was represented as
dangerous to public liberty, and his power of confer¬
ring appointments upon the members of both houses of
legislature was accounted a source of corruption. It
was said, that the jurisdiction given to the federal courts
would prove vexatious, by drawing individuals from di¬
stant states to attend to suits instituted before them. The
powers given to congress to impose all kinds of taxes,
to regulate the election of its members, to maintain a
standing army in time of peace, were alleged to be
exorbitant. It was said, that the most important of
all privileges, the trial by jury, and the liberty of the
press, were not secured : And lastly, It was asserted
that the function of president being made capable of
indefinite continuance in the same hands, might give
an ambitious and artful man an influence dangerous to
the congress, to individuals, and to the constitution it¬
self.
Some of these objections do not appear very forci¬
ble, and others of them have been obviated by the ar¬
ticles afterwards added to the constitution, which have
been already noticed j but it is said, that at the period
in question they possessed considerable influence, and
that a very great majority of the people of the United
States was averse to the constitution. So sensible,
however, were all parties, of the extreme defectiveness
of the existing, government, and of the absolute neces¬
sity of putting an end to the anarchy in which the
country was plunged, that a majority in the different
states was prevailed upon to give their votes for its ac¬
ceptance. In Connecticut, Maryland, and Pennsyl¬
vania, a minority voted against it, but it passed with¬
out any amendment. In Pennsylvania, where the op¬
position was strong, the minority withdrew and pro¬
tested against the constitution. South Carolina, Vir¬
ginia, New York, and Massachusets, accepted the con¬
stitution by a vei’y small majority, but proposed seve¬
ral amendments. New York was on the eve of reject¬
ing the constitution, when intelligence arrived, that
it was already accepted by nine of the states •, and this
circumstance produced an acceptance there also. The
convention of New Hampshire separated without com¬
ing to a resolution ; and, having afterwards assembled,
gave its assent, with some proposals for amendment.
North Carolina not only proposed amendments, but
made them the condition of its acceptance. Some time
afterwards, however, it accepted the constitution with¬
out reserve. Khode Island, instead of calling a con¬
vention, referred the constitution to the assemblies of
the towns, by a majority of which it was rejected ;
but a convention for the purpose being afterwards call¬
ed, it accepted the constitution. The following table
indicates the periods and the manner in which the con¬
stitution w’as accepted.
89
United
States.
-s
m
N ol. fl. Part I-.
f
M
States,
AMERICA.
go
United
States.
States.
Period of accepting
the Constitution.
Manner of passing it.
Delaware
Pennsylvania
New Jersey
Georgia
Connecticut
Massacliusets
Maryland
South Carolina
New Hampshire
Virginia
New York
North Carolina
Rhode Island.
Dec. 31. 1787.
 I3.  
Jan. 2. 1788.
Feb. 6.  
April 28.  
May 23.  
June 21.  
July 26.  
Nov. 27. 1789.
May 29. 1790.
Unanimously
For 47 Against 23
Unanimously
Ditto
For 128 Against 40
  187  168
 63   12
 149  73
  57  46
 89  79
 30  25
 193  75
Maj. 24.
Maj. 88
— 19
   II
  10
—— 118
United
States.
394
Executive
officers in
the Ameri¬
can govern¬
ment.
» 3-?5
President
and vice-
president
hoyv elect¬
ed.
Of the public officers appointed under the constitu¬
tion of the United States, those of president and vice-
president are the most conspicuous and important. In
March 1791, the following law was enacted by con¬
gress for regulating the mode of their election.
“ Section 1. The case of the election of president or
vice-president of the United States before the usual pe¬
riod of election, which case is herein after provided
for, being accepted, the electors for choosing the pre¬
sident and vice-president shall be named within 34
days immediately preceding the first Wednesday of
December 1792, and thenceforth within 34 days im¬
mediately preceding the first Wednesday of December,
in the fourth year after the last election. The said
electors shall be equal in number to that of the sena¬
tors and representatives in congress, of which the seve¬
ral states shall have a right to compose their deputation
at the time when the president and vice-president to be
chosen shall enter into office : provided that, if the
new apportioning of representatives in virtue of the
new enumeration of the inhabitants, shall not take
place before the period for choosing the electors, then
the number of electors shall be proportioned to the
number of senators and representatives of the present
congress.
“ Sect. 2. rIhe electors shall assemble and vote on
the first Wednesday of December in each state, at such
place as shall be named by the legislature of the state j
and shall draw up and sign three certificates of their
respective votes, and shall fold up and seal the same
separately, and shall indorse upon the cover of each
packet a declaration, that it contains a list of the votes
of the state for the president and vice-president j and
every elector, or majority of electors, shall appoint by
ballot the person to whom they will entrust one of the
said certificates, to be by him conveyed to the presi¬
dent of the senate, at the place of residence of the
government, before the first Wednesday of the January
following; and shall address another of the said certifi¬
cates, by the post, to the president of the senate at the
place of residence of the government; and shall trans¬
mit the third of the said certificates to the judge of
the district in which their assembly shall be held.
“ Sect, 3. The executive power, in each state, shall
2
cause to be drawn up, and properly certified, three lists
of the names of the electors of the state, and shall trans¬
mit the same to the electors before the first Wednes¬
day of December; and the electors shall add one of
the said lists to each of the before-mentioned lists of
their votes.
“ Sect. 4. In the case of a list of the votes of a state
not arriving at the place of residence of the govern¬
ment in January, the secretary of state shall despatch
an express to the judge of the district of such state in
whose hands the third certificate shall have been depo¬
sited, who shall transmit it by the same messenger to
the place of residence of the government.
“ Sect. 5. The congress shall commence its sittings
on the second Wednesday of February 1793; and
thenceforth on the second Wednesday of the February
following each assembly of electors; and the certifi¬
cates, or as many of them as shall have arrived, shall
be opened, the votes counted, and names of the persons
elected to fill the offices of president and vice president
declared and proclaimed, according to the forms of the
constitution.
“ Sect. 6. In the case of the president of the senate
not being present at the place of residence of the go¬
vernment on the arrival of persons charged with the
lists of the votes of the electors, such person shall de¬
liver the lists to the secretary of state, who shall care¬
fully preserve them, and remit them as soon as pos¬
sible to the president of the senate.
“ Sect. 7. The persons appointed by the electors to
convey the lists to the president of the senate, shall re¬
ceive, at the time of delivering the said lists, I5d. per
mile, for the distance, by the high road, from the place
of election to the residence of the government.
“ Sect. 8. If any person being appointed to convey
the votes of the electors to the president of the senate,
and having accepted that trust, shall neglect to dis¬
charge the same, he shall incur a penalty of 1000 dol¬
lars.
“ Sect. 9. In the case of the removal, death, resig¬
nation, or incapacity to fill his office of the president
or vice-president, the provisional president of the se¬
nate, or, where no such officer has been appointed, the
speaker of the house of representatives, shall fulfil the
duties
AMERICA. 91
United duties of president of the United States, or vice-presi-
States. dent, until the president or vice-president shall resume
—v ' his functions, or a new election shall take place.
“ Sect. 10. When the offices of president and vice'
president shall become vacant at the same time, the se¬
cretary of state shall give notice of the same to the exe¬
cutive power of each state; and shall publish the said
notice, in one gazette at least of each state, in which it
shall be declared, that the electors for the president of
the United States shall be appointed or chosen in the se¬
veral states within the 34 days immediately preceding
the first Wednesday of the month of December follow¬
ing, provided a space of two months shall intervene be¬
tween the date of such notice, and the first Wednesday
of the December following 5 but when the said space of
time shall not so intervene, or if the term for which
the late president and vice-president were elected does
not expire on the third day of March following, then
the secretary of state shall declare in such notice that
the electors are to be appointed, or chosen, rvithin the
34 days immediately preceding the first Wednesday of
December in the following year 5 and the electors shall
be appointed accordingly, and shall proceed as is pro¬
vided in this act.
“ Sect. 11. The only evidence that shall be required
of the refusal to accept the office of president or vice-
president, or resignation of either of said offices, shall be
a declaration in writing to that effect, signed by the
person refusing to accept or resigning such office, which
shall be transmitted to, and deposited in the office of
the secretary of state.
“ Sect. 12. The term for which the president and vice-
president shall be chosen shall be four years; commen¬
cing, in all cases, on the 4th of March folloAving the
day of the election.
By this law, as well as by the constitution, the
power of declaring the manner of nominating the elec¬
tors who are to chuse the president and vice-president,
was left to the legislatures of the several states j the
result of which Avas that a uniform mode was not adopt¬
ed. In some of the states the people were left to no¬
minate the electors in the same manner as they voted
for other representatives. In other states, that power
was confined to the legislatures themselves.
During the session of congress, the president and
vice-president necessarily remain at Washington •, but
during the recess they retire to their usual places of re¬
sidence. The president, when at the seat of govern¬
ment, lives in the house destined for him, which is fur¬
nished at the public expence. The vice-president, who
is president of the senate, has no similar mark of dis¬
tinction, but lodges at an inn, or private house, like
other members of congress. The yearly salary of the
president is 25,000 dollars j that of the jpee-president
only 5000 ; but the latter is not subject to any extra¬
ordinary expence, while the president, according to
established custom, spends more than his salary in the
expences of his table.
In case of the death, resignation, or removal of the
president, his poAvers devolve upon the vice-president.
He is commander in chief of the army and navy of
the United States, and of the militia Avhen called into
actual service. Pie is authorised to grant reprieves
and pardons for offences against the United States, ex¬
cept in oases of impeachment. By and with the ad¬
vice of the senate, he appoints ambassadors, and judges United
of the supreme court, and all military and other officers, States,
not otherwise provided for by law.
In the executive government of the United States
there are three departments, the department of state,
the department of finances, and that of war : a secretary
is at the head of each of these, who acts under the autho-
rity of the president. The secretary of state is deeper Secj;etar7
of the seals of the union. It belongs to his office to0f*tate.
countersign the laws, and to promulgate them. He has
the custody of all public papers, but his principal em¬
ployment is to transact affairs with foreign powers. ^
At the head of the finances is a secretary of the Treasury,
treasury. This part of the public business Avas attend¬
ed with many difficulties at the period when the consti¬
tution Avas formed, and for some years thereafter. 'I he
neAV congress, at the close of its first session, in Septem¬
ber 1789, ordered the secretary of the treasury of the
union, Mr Plamilton, to prepare a plan for the resto¬
ration of public credit. This duty was performed in
January 1790, and, after long debates, the congress, on
the 4th of August of that year, passed the plan into a
laAv. By this law, the debt due to foreign nations, as
well as to the creditors at home, Avas funded, together
with a long arrear of interest, and even interest upon
interest. The debt due to foreign nations amounted
to 11,908,188 dollars, and the domestic debt to
40,905,485 dollars, making together 52,813,673 dol¬
lars. The president of the United States Avas au¬
thorized to borrow 12,000,000 of dollars to pay
the foreign debt. Another loan was made to extin¬
guish the domestic debt, and in payment of this
loan certificates of interest due (one of the kinds of
public paper then current) were received and funded
at three per cent. The capital of the debt, including
the rest of the paper money then in circulation, Avas
funded at 6 per cent, interest, with a provision that for
a third of the debt thus funded no interest should be
paid till the year 1800. This part of the debt there¬
fore received the name of deferred stock. The defer¬
red stock Avas appointed to be redeemed in the propor¬
tion of eight per cent, per annum. For the rest of the
debt two other funds Avere created, one of three per
cent, and one of six per cent.—By this laAv the Avhole
debts due by the several states to the union, and for
which the credit of congress stood pledged to the pub¬
lic creditors, Avere adopted as the debt of the union,
But as the debts due by the several states Avere very
unequal, this part of the plan met with much opposi¬
tion. It is understood, however, to have been at last
carried, in consequence of a kind of compromise be-
tAveen the northern and southern states. The northern
states, including Ncav York, Avere the principal debtors,
Massachusets alone OAved 6,000,000 of dollars. The
northern states therefore were deeply interested, that
the public debt should be adopted by the whole union.
The southern states, on the contrary, Avere all, Avith the
exception of South Carolina, creditors of the union.
But it Avas their favourite project to draw the seat
of the federal government nearer to them. Virgi¬
nia was more eager in the prosecution of this object
than the rest, and Virginia VA'as the principal public
creditor. Accordingly, the deputies of the northern
states made a compromise with the southern states,
agreeing to vote that the seat of the federal govern-
M 2 ment
92 A M E
Onited ment should be placed on the river Potowmack, on
States, condition of the others voting for the consolidation of
v the debts. Orders were given to prepare buildings for
the public offices, previous to December 1800. In
honour of the president of the union, who had so long
been the commander in chief of the armies of the states,
the new city was ordained to be called Washington.
The congress afterwards erected an office for the re¬
duction of national debt 5 but the government, from an
infirmity natural to governments in general, rather ex¬
ceeded its revenue, and the debt, instead of diminish¬
ing, increased till the period of Mr Jefferson’s admi¬
nistration. In 1790 the debt of the United States was
72,613,254 dollars j in 1804 it was 86,427,120but
from this time it was gradually reduced till it reached
45,211,981 dollars in 1812. The war which began
then made great additions to it, and in 1816 it amount¬
ed to 123,630,691 dollars. About 35,000,000, how¬
ever, have been paid off since the peace ; and on the
1st January 1820, the amount was 88,885,203 dol-
39S Jars.
National A bank of the United States was incorporated in
bank, 1791, with a capital of 10,000,000 of dollars, of which
2,000,000 were ^ subscribed by the United States. It
had branches in Boston, New York, Baltimore, Wash¬
ington, Northfolk, Charlestown, and Savannah. It ex¬
pired in 1811, and congress refused to renew it. A
new bank of the United States was established in 1816,
with a capital of 35,000,000, with branches at eighteen
of the most considerable towns in the union. It seems
likely to succeed no better than its predecessor j hav¬
ing fallen into embarrassments in 1819, when such ex¬
traordinary failures took place among the banks in the
United States as to cover the country with general dis¬
tress. Banks have increased with extraordinary rapi¬
dity in the United States. The whole number of these
establishments in 1790 was 95, and in 1818 there
were above 400. They are most numei'ous in Pennsyl¬
vania and Kentucky. They issue notes for sums as
low as a dollar, which are cut into halves and quar¬
ters ; and generally pass at a discount, which increases
in proportion to the distance of the place whence they
399. are issue<J-
Army. On the conclusion of the war with Great Britain in
1815, the army of the United States was reduced to
10,000 men j consisting of 32 companies of artillery,
3200 men ; 10 companies of light artilerry, 660 men 5
80 companies, or eight regiments, of infantry, 5440
men ; to companies of riflemen, 680 ; in all 9980
men. The chief officers are two major-generals (Jack-
son and Brown) for the southern and northern divi¬
sions, four brigade inspectors, and four brigade quar¬
ter-masters. From the accounts presented to congress
in December 1819, this force appears to be reduced to
little more than 8000 men. Forts have been establish¬
ed also, or are erecting at the mouths of the principal
bays. The whole expence of the military department
in 1819 was 9,195,961 dollars. The pay of a major-
general is 200 dollars per month, with 15 rations a-
day ; a colonel of infantry 75 dollars, with 6 rations ;
a major 50 dollars, with 4 rations $ a captain 40 dol¬
lars, with 3 rations*, a first lieutenant 30 dollars and
3 rations j a regimental surgeon 45 dollars and 3 ra¬
tions *, a serjeant 8 , dollars and 1 ration $ a private 5
dollars and 1 ration. During the war which ended in
RICA.
1815, the United States had 62,588 men in their ser- United
vice. The militia of the United States, on the 13th States.
September 1816, amounted to 748,566 men, including —v—■
officers. {Warden's America, chap. 44.).
The navy of the United States was very small before
the late war. They had no vessel above the size of a
frigate, and but a few of these. But their unexpected
success in battles with British vessels of the same class,
has brought the naval service into high esteem } and
since the peace they have been diligently employed in
building ships of the line. In the beginning of 1819
the navy consisted of 5 ships of the line of 74 guns, 5
frigates of 44 guns, and 32 vessels of inferior size,
carrying altogether 1142 guns. There were besides
some barges and gunboats, and five large ships build¬
ing. By an act of congress, dated April 1816, the
president was authorized to build 9 ships of 74 guns,
and 12 frigates of 44 guns. The steam frigate con¬
structed by Mr Fulton, a new and singular species of
naval force, measures 145 feet by 55, on the deck;
and draws only 8 feet water. The machinery by which
it moves is placed in the centre, and is defended by a
side of six feet in thickness. The navy is managed by
a board of three commissioners, each with a salary of
3500 dollars.  4QO
For the administration of justice, an attorney gene-Law offi-
ral of the United States, is by law attached to thecers.
executive government. In the United States, ju¬
stice is administered by district courts, circuit courts,
and a supreme court. These possess exclusive jurisdic¬
tion, in all suits that affect the interests of the union.
The courts of district are held four times a year in each
state, by a judge appointed by the federal government,
and residing in the state. They have jurisdictions in
crimes within the district and the adjoining sea, where
the penalty does not exceed 100 dollars, or a slight cor¬
poral punishment. They judge also in civil questions,
in which the union or foreigners are interested to the
amount of 100 dollars, and unless in admiralty cases,
the question is tried by a jury.
The circuit courts are held by a judge of the supreme
court, twice a-year in each state, along with the judges
of the district. They have an exclusive cognizance of
all crimes against the union, and they are courts of ap¬
peal from the, district courts. They have cognizance,
along with the courts of the different states, of all civil
causes, not exceeding 300 dollars in value, or where a
foreigner is party, or the dispute is between citizens of
different states.
The supreme court of the union consists of a chief
justice, and five judges. It sits twice a year at the
seat of government. It is a court of appeal from the
circuit courts, and the tribunals of the several states.
It has exclu&jve jurisdiction in all civil causes, where
one of the states is a party, unless the adverse party be
a citizen of the same state, and over all suits against
foreign ambassadors or envoys, and their domestics, ac¬
cording to the law of nations. It may also try, but not
exclusively, causes in which an ambassador, consul, or
other foreign minister, is interested as prosecutor.
On account of the distance of the states of Kentuc¬
ky and Tenessee, and the province of Maine, their
courts of district exercise the jurisdiction of courts of
circuit, except in cases of appeal, which are carried
before the supreme federal court. Juries serving in the
federal^
United
States.
401
The mint.
AMERICA.
93
federal courts, are chosen according to the forms ob¬
served in the states where these courts happen to he
held.
Crimes or offences of which the federal tribunals
take cognizance, are treasons, rebellions, refusals to pay
imposts enjoined by the union, smuggling, frauds by
officers of the revenue in matters ot revenue, and in
short, every offence committed against laws passed by the
congress. In addition to these, the federal courts take
cognizance of all offences committed within what is
accounted not the territory of any particular state,
but of the union at large, such as, the open seas, or
forts or arsenals belonging to the union, and also the
precincts of the federal city of Washington, which is
considered as the common property of the American
nation.
In civil matters, both in the courts of the union, and
of the particular states, the common law of England is
considered as the law of America, where no special en¬
actments exist to the contrary. The administration of
justice, however, is understood to be no less embarrassed
by intricacies and delays in North America, than it is
under some of the oldest governments of Europe. A
reform in this respect will not readily be expected,
when it is considered, that more than one half of the
legislature of the union, as well as of the legislatures of
the different states, is always composed of lawyers.
In April 1792, the congress ordered the establish¬
ment for the United States, of a public mint, by a law
which regulates the division, the value, and the standard
of their money. The division and value of these mo¬
neys, are as follows.
Gold Coin.
The Eagle, value ten dollars.
The Half-Eagle, value five dollars.
The Quarter-Eagle, value two dollars and a half.
Silver Coin.
The Dollar, value a hundred cents.
The Half-Dollar, value fifty cents.
The Quarter-Dollar, value twenty-five cents.
The Tenth of a Dollar, value twelve cents and a half.
The Half Tenth, value six cents and a quarter.
Copper Coin.
The Cent, value the hundredth part of a dollar.
The Half Cent, value the two hundreth part of a
dollar.
The weight of these is as follows : Tire eagle ought
to contain 247^- grains of pure gold, or 270 grains of
standard gold, which is thus regulated 5 ri parts of pure
gold in I2tV of alloy, of which one half ought to be of
silver.
The half-eagle ought to contain 123!- grains of pure
gold, or 135 grains of alloy gold..
The quarter-eagle ought to contain 61 grains of pure
gold, or 67!- grains of alloy gold.
The dollar ought to contain 371^ grains of pure sil¬
ver, or 416 grains of alloy silver;
The standard of silver is 1485 parts of pure silver,
and 179 parts of alloy which is of pure copper.
Ihe half-dollar ought to contain 182^ grains of pure
silver,.or 280 grains of standard silver.
A quarter-dollar ought to contain 92^ grains of United
pure silver, or 104 grains of standard silver. State*.
The tenth of a dollar ought to contain 37-^- grains of'“■“"M"-—'
pure silver, or 52 grains of standard silver.
The half-tenth ought to contain 18/^ grains of pure
silver, or 26 grains of standard silver.
The cent ought to contain 11 pennyweights of cop¬
per.
The half cent ought to contain five and a half.
The gold and silver coins ought, according to law, to
bear on one side an emblematical figure of liberty, and
upon the other, the eagle of the United States, with the
words “ United States.”
The copper coins, instead of the American eagle, bear
an inscription denominating their value.
The proportional value between gold and silver, when
coined, to the coin of the United States, is determined
by comparing one pound of the one to fifteen of the
other } that is to say, one pound of coined gold is equal
to fifteen pounds of coined silver.
All the countries of the United States are required
to make use of these coins.
The Spanish dollar is the only piece of foreign coin
which is current in the United States as money : all
others, which had received a valuation by the law, are
only received by weight since 1765. It does not ap¬
pear, however, that the United States have hitherto
made much use of their mint, at least for the coinage of
the more valuable metals.
402
The convulsions of nations and the calamities and History
the crimes of mankind, always form the most interest-continued,
ing subject of history j and happy is that people con¬
cerning whom the historian finds little to relate. From
the period of the acceptance of their constitution, the
American states have, in a great degree, enjoyed that
fortunate situation. On the 13th of September 1788,
the old congress having received the ratification ot the
constitution from eleven states, declared it to be in
force, and appointed the first Wednesday of the fol¬
lowing January for choosing the electors, who were to
assemble on the first Wednesday in February following
to elect the president and vice-president. The new
congress was also appointed to meet on the first Wed¬
nesday of March following at New York. According- 4°3
ly, on the first Wednesday of February 1789, George toIf
Washington, who had been the commander in chief of^ent>
the armies of the United States, and president of the
convention of Philadelphia that framed the consti¬
tution, was elected president, and John Adams, who
had seconded Mr Jefferson in proposing the original de¬
claration of American independence, was at the same
time elected vice-president. The popularity of the
president was deservedly very great; and, as all parties
concurred in supporting the new constitution, much
unanimity prevailed in the public councils. By de- 404
grees, however, it appeared, that two parties conti- Political
nued to exist, possessing the same radical principles^acUons>
as formerly. The party most attached to the princi¬
ples that leaned towards monarchy, or rather towards
aristocracy, concurred steadily in giving support to the
new authorities in all their exertions as soon as they
were constituted, adopting for themselves the appella¬
tion of federalists, which had by that time become
popular. On the other hand, the more strict and zeal¬
ous-v
AMERICA.
495
Titles pro-
posed. t
4)c5
CJharacter
of the par¬
ties.
ous republicans, who had originally been called jcde-
t'alists, and who had only opposed the constitution, be¬
cause, in their opinion, it did not sufficiently incorpo¬
rate the whole states into one nation, now began to
receive the appellation of antifederalists: because,
from their temper and character they frequently op¬
posed the measures of the new federal government.
In this way the names of the parties were changed,
while their principles remained the same. It is not
believed, however, that in the United States there ex¬
ists any party that wishes to dissolve the confederation j
the word antifederalist being only used to express the
democratic or most zealous republican party, wheieas
the appellation of federalist is applied to those of a
more aristocratical character and tendency, who array
themselves most steadily on the side of established au¬
thority, in opposition to every kind of innovation. In
the earliest period of the constitution, the only extraor¬
dinary effort that we find to have been made by either
of these parties, consisted of a proposal made in the se¬
nate of congress, in which the anstocratical party, now
called federalists, were very numerous, to give the ti¬
tles of illustrious highness to the president of the United
States, of right honourable to the members of the senate,
and honourable to the members of the house of repre¬
sentatives ; but this project was abandoned by the se¬
nate itself, as the public opinion was found to be averse
to it, and as the house of representatives was disposed
to impose a negative upon it. AV hen the system of
finance, of which we have already taken notice, and
which still exists, was proposed, it was vehemently
combated by the opposition or the antifederalist party,
on account of the tendency, which, in their opinion,
it must have to introduce a funding system, and by
means of it an extravagant and expensive government,
in consequence of the facility with which that system
enables ministers to negociate loans, and thereby ra¬
ther to increase than diminish their own power by the
dependence upon government which these loans pro¬
duce. The same reasons which induced the antifede¬
ralist party to oppose the new system of finance, or the
introduction of a funding system, recommended it to
the support of the federalists, who, by means of it, ex¬
pected to increase the strength and influence of govern¬
ment. This last motive probably derived greater weight
from the personal interests and prejudices of the indivi¬
duals who usually joined the federalist or aristocratical
party.
It is to be observed, that, in North America as in
Europe, the political opinions of men are, in a great
measure, formed by their situations. At the same time,
local situation produces in America an effect precisely
the reverse of what it does among the Europeans. In
Europe the proprietors of land constitute the aristocra¬
cy of the country in which they live, and are the pil¬
lars of the government', whereas the inhabitants of
towns, from being crowded into a narrow space, and
from their want of personal distinction, have a tenden¬
cy to assume a more levelling and turbulent character.
But, in America, unless when land is bought in large
quantities to be speedily disposed of as an object of
commercial speculation, it is usually held in property
by the cultivators of it, who labour upon their own
farms, and constitute a body of yeomanry in easy cir¬
cumstances, but not possessed of great wealth. Hence
in all political questions they are led to adopt equahz- Dinted
ing notions, and a jealousy of the conduct of those en- States,
trusted with power. In the towns, on the contraiy, a ''
great diversity of rank exists. By means of an ex¬
tensive commerce large fortunes are made, the owners
of which live in a stile of great splendour, and along
with the members of the learned professions constitute
the aristocracy of America. The commercial men be¬
ing also intimately connected with Great Britain, are
naturally led to approve of the institutions that exist in
it, and to favour her cause in every quarrel with Eu¬
ropean nations.
It was not till the second period of the French revo¬
lution, or the fall of monarchy in that country, that
the American parties became in any great degree ex¬
asperated against each other. I hat extraordinary
event, by which Europe was convulsed from its centre
to its extremities, and by which all its nations were
roused to arms, carried agitation and discord even be¬
yond the shores of the Atlantic. The people of the A-
merican states belonging to the race of Euiope, and
having so recently been an object of lively interest and
of hostility ^between different states, could not fail to
have their minds occupied by the new events and spe¬
culations which at that time engaged the attention of
all ranks of men. The French had been the allies of
America. Their troops had fought for the independence
of that country, and Fayette and other names that were
distinguished in the early periods of the French revo¬
lution, were well known, and enjoyed much personal ^
popularity among the Americans. It is not winder- Antifede-
ful, therefore, that the antifederalist party in America rahsts to
regarded with favour the early progress of the French prellc^ p0,
revolution, especially as they considered the French jitical opi-
soldiers as now engaged on the side of principles which nion*
they had learned in the school of America. Ihey con¬
templated with exultation the progress of republicanism
in France, and fancied they beheld in it a confirma¬
tion of their own sentiments, and the means of prevent¬
ing their own government from acquiring an aristocra¬
tical or a monarchical tendency. When the govern¬
ing party in France dishonoured themselves and human
nature by the excess of their barbarity and of their
crimes under Robespierre, the antifederalists in A-
merica being men of a better character, could not fail
to regard the conduct of the European revolutionists
with much horror. Still, however, they flattered them¬
selves that the disorders \)f France were only tempo¬
rary : and they vainly hoped that the spirit of freedom
would in that country soon be rendered consistent with
the existence of public order. . 4=)g
On the other hand, the federalist party in America, The fede-
whose objects were to strengthen the government of ralifU at-
the union, to increase the influence of the executive10
power, and to carry the constitution as far as possible
towards aristocracy and monarchy, naturally consider¬
ed the example and influence of the English govern¬
ment as a barrier against the system of trench repub¬
licanism. As many of the members of this party were
strongly bound to Great Britain by the ties of com¬
mercial interest, they soon became extremely eager to
detach the United States from France, and to connect
them with Britain. This party derived a great acces¬
sion of strength from the crimes, which nobody pre¬
tended to justify, of the rulers of the French republic.
They
AMERICA. 05
United They derived still greater strength from the disorgani-
States. zjng system with regard to foreign nations which the
'r~~J French adopted, and which they extended even to the
republican states of America. Their ambassador, M.
Genet, and their consuls at different ports, instituted
political clubs in the towns and villages, and attempted
to introduce everywhere the Jacobin practice of affi¬
liation or fraternization. The ambassador also attempt¬
ing to force the United States into a war with Great
Britain, quarrelled openly with the president, and at¬
tempted, by the publication of official notes addressed
to him, to excite discontents, and to introduce a di¬
stinction between the government and the people of the
country. He was recalled by the French govern¬
ment, but not till his conduct had excited the disap¬
probation of all parties in America. It would appear,
however, that for a time the American government
was disposed to regard the French republic with fa¬
vour. Payment was readily made to the republic of
the debt incurred by the United States to the late
French monarch j and as France suffered great distress
from a scarcity of provisions, the money was laid out
in the purchase of grain and flour, which was conveyed
from America to France in a fleet of 160 ships. It
was in defence of this fleet that the French fought the
naval engagement with Lord Howe on the 1st of June
1794, in which their ships of war were defeated j but
they were successful in conveying the transports loaded
with grain into Brest harbour. But the American go¬
vernment soon found itself much embarrassed with re¬
gard to the part which it ought to act towards the
contending powers of Europe. George Washington
was still at the head of affairs, having been re-elected
president in December I792» though not altogether
induct of unanimously, as in the former instance. This prudent
ie presi- statesman saw that the interest of his rising Country re-
lent quired that she should remain disengaged from the de¬
structive quarrels of the European nations. The rest¬
less spirit of the French, however, on the one hand,
and the eagerness of Great Britain to foice an univer¬
sal combination against them on the other, rendered
the preservation of neutrality no easy task. He saw a
confederacy of all Europe formed against France*, and
he could scarcely avoid supposing that it must be suc¬
cessful against an anarchy stained with crimes and
blood, assailed by choice troops, and having nothing to
oppose this force but new soldiers and inexperienced
generals, supported by a treasury furnished only with a
paper currency, which must speedily be discredited.
At the same time, the American commerce was great¬
ly harassed by Great Britain, whose ships, with a view
to distress France, seized all vessels going thither with
provisions, which formed the chief article of American
export. The debates which occurred in the house of
representatives in congress in consequence of this state
of affairs were extremely violent *, and the people with¬
out doors were greatly agitated throughout the whole
extent of the United States. The general wish was,
to preserve peace arid neutrality ; but the complaints
against Britain were very loud, especially as the ex¬
tensive traders who were most attached to the British
interests were the chief sufferers by the interruption of
commerce. The antifederalists on this occasion be¬
came still more attached to France, the contagion of
whose anarchy among a virtuous people they declared
they did not fear. If satisfaction could not be obtain- United
ed from Britain, they proposed a sequestration of Bri- States,
tish property in America, an interruption of all com-—v—
merce with Britain *, and they imagined, that by arm¬
ing Ameriean privateers, prohibiting the conveyance
of provisions to the British islands, and seizing on Ca¬
nada, they possessed more certain means of injuring
Britain, if she was resolved upon war, than any she had
with which to make reprisals upon the states. The fe¬
deralists, on the other hand, were eager to avoid all
connexion with France, and proposed the mildest mea¬
sures of remonstrance and negociation with regard to
England, deprecating the idea of entering into a con¬
test with her 5 and the president appears at length to
have adopted the resolution of going fully into the
measures of this last party. He dismissed Thomas Jef¬
ferson from the office of secretary of state, he being of
that party that had always avowed an attachment to
pure republicanism, and that was at present most ho¬
stile to Great Britain. He at the same time resolved
to send Mr Jay to England for the purpose of nego-
ciating with the British government. This last gentle¬
man being known to be decidedly attached to the fe¬
deralist party, indicated to the public in very clear
terms the measures which the government had resolved
to adopt. 410
About this time some internal disorders broke out in Rebellion
one part of America, and, as political factions render ^ Ritsburgo
every event subservient to their mutual hatred, the fe¬
deralists accused their adversaries, though evidently
without reason, of being the contrivers and authors of
the disturbance, the history of which was this :—A-
mong the difl’erents objects of taxation which presented
themselves to congress during the session of X79°> none
had appeared more proper than the distilleries through¬
out the United States. As a revenue from this source
could only be collected by an excise, this form was
adopted: The duty was light, and the object unex¬
ceptionable. But at all limes this form of collecting a
revenue has been unacceptable to the people in gene¬
ral. By fixing the duty not on the raw material, but
on the manufactured commodity, the capital of the
trader is less deeply involved, and the price is common¬
ly rendered less burdensome to the consumer j but
from the right which, under this form of taxation, it is
necessary to confer upon the revenue officers,, of enter¬
ing into private buildings, and of interfering with the
operations there going on, it has always been submitted
to with reluctance at its first introduction. This tax,
however, was peaceably submitted to throughout the
whole American continent, excepting in one quarter,
that is say, in the four western counties of Pennsyl¬
vania beyond the Alleghany mountains, near the junc¬
tion of the three great rivers Alleghany, Yohogany,,
and Monongahela, whose confluence at lort Pitt forms
the river Ohio. This district had been settled for a
considerable time, and is tolerably populous. The in¬
habitants at first refused to pay the tax, hut they were
not altogether unanimous in this respect j and govern¬
ment for some time avoided to press the matter by pro¬
secutions, in the hopes that by degrees the authority of
law would be established without trouble or alarm.
Petitions in the mean time were transmitted to con¬
gress against the tax, and some, modifications of it had
taken place j so that the government at last endeavonr-
stV;
96 A M E
United ed generally to put It in force. The marshal was or-
States. dered to proceed by legal process against all rioters
'““■"V”—^ and delinquent distillers who should be found to resist
or evade the tax j but no sooner was he understood
to be engaged in this duty than the vengeance of arm¬
ed men was aimed at his person, and the person and
property of the inspector of the revenue. They fired
on the marshal, arrested him, and detained him some
time as a prisoner. The house and papers of the in¬
spector of the revenue were burnt; and both these offi¬
cers were obliged to fly to Philadelphia. In a few
days thereafter, in the month of August I794i a gene‘
ral meeting was held at Pitsburg, consisting of six or
seven thousand men in arms. A strong remonstrance
was drawn up, to be presented to congress. Commit¬
tees were appointed to correspond with the counties of
Washington, Fayette, and Alleghany, and a resolution
was entered into, against having any intercourse or
dealings with any man who should accept of any office
for the collection of the duty.
The American government on this emergency acted
with much prudence. Commissioners were dispatched
to confer with the leaders of the opposition in the dis¬
affected counties, but the conference was unfortunately
without effect. A committee of 60 persons was elect¬
ed to confer with the commissioners, but of these only
a small number voted in favour of the conciliatory pro¬
position. The others threatened, that if the tax was not
repealed, the people of the western counties would se¬
parate from the American union, and place themselves
under the protection of Great Britain. ’I he conduct
of the populace was still more outrageous. They sur¬
rounded the house where the commissioners resided,
broke the windows, and grossly insulted them *, so that
they were under the necessity of departing without ef¬
fecting an accommodation.
Nothing now remained but to repeal the tax, or to
reduce the refractory counties by force. The former
was neither judged prudent nor safe *, and as a trifling
force might have been ineffectual, and therefore ex¬
tremely pernicious, by encouraging and extending the
insurrection, the militia of all the adjacent states were
embodied, and different detachments, amounting in all
to 15,000 men, were ordered to rendezvous at Carlisle,
the principal town of Cumberland county. Governor
Mifflin, formerly general, marched thither in the mid¬
dle of September, at the head of 6000 volunteers, who,
for the honour of their country, engaged on this occa¬
sion to support the laws of the federal government. In
the beginning of October, the president joined the ar¬
my at Carlisle, of which Governor Lee of Virginia
was commander in chief; and Governor Mifflin was
second in command. From Carlisle the army pro¬
ceeded immediately, amounting in all to 15,000 men
in two divisions; and the result was, that the insur¬
gents, after a variety of consultations by representative
committees, came to a resolution to disband, and sub¬
mit to the law ; and their leaders disappeared. On
the 25th of October, a considerable meeting was held
at Pitsburg, of the inhabitants of the western counties,
in which they entered into a solemn engagement to
support order and obedience to the laws of the repub¬
lic by every means in their power. A small force
was, however, stationed in the counties in which the
disturbance had taken place. A considerable number
RICA.
of the insurgents who had been made prisoners were United
tried, and convicted of high treason ; but they were all State*,
afterwards pardoned. Thus did this rebellion, which'—v—
at one time exhibited a formidable aspect, terminate
without bloodshed, and almost without violence or da¬
mage to the public.
During the same summer, a part of the western ter-War with!
ritory of the United States was ravaged by a desperate the Indt-
incursion of the Indians. To repel this attack, Major51118,
General Wayne -was despatched with a moderate force
early in the summer, and about the middle of August
he penetrated to the Miami river, where the British
had lately re-occupied a fort within the territory which,
according to the treaty of 1783, undoubtedly belong¬
ed to the American states. Along with the Indians
General Wayne found a number of Canadian settlers
encamped without the fort; and he asserted in his cor¬
respondence, that Colonel M‘Hee, the British Indian
agent, was the principal instigator of the war between
the savages and the United States. The savages, with
a few white auxiliaries, amounted to 2000 men, while
General Wayne had only 900 ; but he resolved not to
retreat, and, after a last overture for peace, which was
rejected, he advanced to the attack on the 20th of Au¬
gust. His advanced guard was at first thrown into dis¬
order by a severe fire from the Indians, but the second
line was immediately brought forward, while the first
line was directed to rouse the Indians from their co¬
verts by the bayonet; and the cavalry were directed
to turn their flank. The effect of the charge of the
infantry, however, was, that the savages were routed
and immediately dispersed, the battle terminating un¬
der the guns of the British garrison, commanded by
Major Campbell. This last gentleman and General
Wayne now' reciprocally accused each other as guilty
of hostility in time of peace. The one complained
that a fort was occupied within the American territo¬
ry; and the other, that so near an approach was made
to a garrison possessed by the troops of his Britannic
majesty. It was agreed, however, that the point should
be left to he discussed by the ambassadors of their dif¬
ferent nations ; and General Wayne retired. These
occurrences excited strong apprehensions in the Ame¬
rican government that the British ministry seriously
meditated hostilities against the United States.
These apprehensions, however, were soon done away jaj,>s trei
by the treaty which Mr Jay concluded with Greatty.
Britain in the end of the year 1794. By this treaty
the British government agreed to indemnify the Ame¬
rican merchants for the illegal seizure of their ships and
property that had taken place during the war ; the
forts within the American territory which had been
occupied by the British, and which had never been eva¬
cuated, were agreed to be given up, and the boundary
line to be clearly ascertained. On the other hand, the
American government consented, that French proper¬
ty on board American vessels might be lawfully seized,
and that no privateers belonging to a nation at war
with either party should be allowed to bring their
prizes into the ports of the other, unless forced by stress
of weather; and at all events, that they should not be
allowed to sell their prizes there. Various articles fa¬
vourable to the American commerce were at the same
time stipulated in the treaty.
When this treaty was laid before the legislature of
the
AMERICA. , 97
United
States.
413
Disputes
with
France.
the United States, it occasioned the most violent de¬
bates. The senate, however, approved of it, which
was all that was necessary, according to the constitu¬
tion, to render it binding. The house of representa¬
tives at first refused to concur in the arrangements ne¬
cessary for carrying it into effect, though they at last
agreed to depart from their opposition, from the
dread of involving their country in a war with
England, and from the great respect which the coun¬
try at large entertained for the judgment of the presi¬
dent.
In the mean time, this treaty, along with other
events, had nearly involved the United States in what
was undoubtedly at that time less formidable; a war
with France. The French had repeatedly made re¬
monstrances to the American government against the
conduct of the British, in seizing American vessels,
even in their own rivers and bays, when they found
either French persons or French property, without any
resistance being made on the part of the American
states. When the above treaty, authorizing such sei¬
zures, in a manner so hostile to the interests of France,
and even to the spirit of neutrality which it was the
interest of the American government to observe, came
to be publicly known, the French at first entertained
hopes that it would not be sanctioned by the American
legislature. Their indignation was greatly roused
when they understood that a legalized preference was
shown to the English interest, by allowing them to
seize French property in American vessels j while
France stood engaged by treaty, not to seize Ameri¬
can property in English vessels, or in the vessels of any
other nation with which France might happen to be
at war. Still, however, the French government re¬
garded less the treaty itself, than the spirit from which
it rose, of a greater attachment to Great Britain than
to France. Their indignation in this respect was in¬
creased, by an intercepted letter from the president of
the United States addressed to Mr Morris, who had
lately been the American ambassador in France, and
who was then the private agent of the American go¬
vernment in London. This letter, dated, at Philadel¬
phia, December 2. 1795, was a detailed answer to
various letters of Mr Morris. The president com¬
plained highly of the haughty conduct of the Eng¬
lish administration, and of the arbitrary measures
which they were continuing to pursue with respect to
American navigation. He requested Mr Morris to
represent to the minister not only the injustice, but the
impolicy of this conduct j particularly at a moment
when it was so much the interest of England to conci¬
liate the minds of the inhabitants of the United States
to the acceptance of the treaty. He detailed the ef¬
forts he had made, and the difficulties he had encoun¬
tered to overcome the wayward disposition of his coun¬
trymen towards French politics, the abbetors of which
were the chief opponents of the treaty in question ;
which, however, he said, had the approbation and
sanction of the greater and more respectable part of the
community. His only object, he observed, was peace,
which he was most anxious to preserve ; and if Ame¬
rica was happy enough to keep herself out of European
quari’els, she might, from the increase of her trade,
vie in 20 years with the most formidable powers of
Europe.
Vol. II. Part I.
This letter, saved from the wreck of the Boston
packet, which had foundered on the coast of France,
was considered as decisive evidence of the dispositions
of the American government towards the French re¬
public. Their ambassador, M. Adet, was therefore
directed to make strong representations against the
privileges granted to Great Britain, of seizing French
property in American vessels. The answer given by
the American government stated, in justification ot
their conduct, that a special treaty made with France
in 1778, formally expressed, that neutral vessels should
neutralize the cargo j whereas the treaty lately con¬
cluded between the United States and England, con¬
tained no similar regulation. The American govern¬
ment therefore asserted, that it acted in perfect con¬
formity to both treaties $ and though it was lawful for
the English to seize French property on board Ameri¬
can vessels, the French, without a breach of their
treaty with America, could not be permitted to make
reprisals in similar circumstances on the English. This
mode of reasoning, which was undoubtedly consistent
with the letter of the treaties, if not with political ho¬
nesty, did not satisfy the French directory ; and, ac¬
cordingly, they entered into a formal resolution to su¬
spend the execution of their treaty with America, and
declared, that they would treat all neutral vessels in
the same manner, as they should suffer the English to
treat them. The only effect of this threatening, was
to augment the maritime power of Great Britain j
merchants belonging to neutral states being thereby
induced on all occasions to entrust their goods to the
British flag, as the only power capable of affording
them full protection. Still, however, by the manage¬
ment of the American ambassador Mr Munroe, who
was known to belong to the antifederalist party, the
French directory was preserved in tolerable temper
with the Americans $ but upon his being recalled, and
Mr Pinckney, a man of the opposite faction, appoint¬
ed his successor, they manifested their indignation, by
refusing to receive him, or even to suffer him to x’eside
as a private citizen at Paris. They proceeded to no
further hostility, however, in expectation that a change
favourable to their interests might occur in the Ameri¬
can government. For now in the month of October
1796, George Washington, the president, publickly an¬
nounced his resolution of retiring from political alfairs
on account of the infirmities of age, and requested his
friends not to nominate him in the next election of pre¬
sident.
The election of a new president to succeed a man of New pre-
such distinction as George Washington, afforded abun-«dent,
dant aliment for the animosity of the political parties
in America. The federalists wished to advance to the
office of president Mr Pinckney of South Carolina, a
man whose personal character was much respected,
and who had lately been ambassador in England. Fie
had also been engaged in some negotiations with Spain,
in which his conduct gave general satisfaction. His
name was associated by the federalists, in their votes,
along with that of John Adams, the vice-president.
They considered it as probable, that he would have
the second greatest number of votes in the north,
where it was expected that John Adams would have
the majority $ and it was hoped, that he would at least
have the second number of votes in the southern states,
N if
4r4
98
United
States.
AMERICA.
if Mr Jefferson should have the majority. Upon the
whole, however, the federalists generally professed a
wish that Mr Adams should he president, although it
is said, that the views of their leaders were privately
directed to procure the elevation ol Mr Pinckney.
The antifederalists, on the contrary, openly and una¬
nimously supported Mr Jefferson. He was well known
to the public as a man of letters. He had been secre¬
tary of state and ambassador in France, and was active
in procuring the original declaration of independence.
The two parties strained every nerve to support their
respective candidates. They mutually accused each
other of tricks to invalidate votes, of frauds in the re¬
turns, and of all the other unfair proceedings so well
understood in the parent state of which they are colo¬
nists. The leaders of the federalists were deceived in
their expectation of gaining a majority for Mr Pinck¬
ney. John Adams had only one vote beyond an ab¬
solute majority of the whole which is required by the
constitution, and was declared president 5 and Mr Jef¬
ferson having the second greatest number of votes, or
three votes fewer than Mr Adams, was declared vice-
president.
"When the news arrived in America of the French
directory’s refusal to receive Mr Pinckney as minister
from the United States, their conduct was represented
by Mr Adams the president, in a speech to congress,
as a high and aggravated insult to the dignity of the
American people. The federalist party, by whom he
was supported, had a majority in congrees, and some
preparations for Avar were voted j but as the parties
were nearly balanced, the opinions of the opposition
very frequently prevailed, and the mission of three am¬
bassadors to demand an explanation from the French
government was scarcely followed by any preparations
for hostility. But by this time the persons who re¬
tained the possession of the supreme power in France,
under the appellation of an executive directory, had
displayed a character which deeply wounded the in¬
terests of their country with all foreign nations, and
ultimately overturned the republican constitution which
had been attempted to be established. Their conduct
was insolent and corrupted, while at the same time
they Avere unable to compensate these defects by the
ability of their management. Their negotiation with
the American ambassadors terminated in an obscure
and unprincipled intrigue, in which it appeared that
the directory Avished to levy a sum of money upon Ame¬
rica, as the price of their forbearance j a part of which
sum Avas to go into the public treasury, and a part Avas
to be received privately by the individual members of
the directory. They also, from a short-sighted policy,
authorized their privateers and cruizers to seize all
neutral vessels in which any article of British produce
or manufacture should be found, to Avhomsoever it be¬
longed. As the British manufactures Avere in great
demand in every country, this was equivalent to a de¬
claration of hostility against all nations, while, at the
same time, the absolute dominion which the British
navy had at this period acquired over the ocean, con¬
verted it into an impotent menace.
In consequence of these events, the American con¬
gress, towards the end of their session in 1798, by a
small majority, enacted a laAV, to break off all com¬
mercial relation with France or its dependencies, and
to forbid the entrance of French vessels into the Arne- United
rican ports till the end of the sittings of next congress. States.
A premium was also offered for the capture of French —y—
armed ships by American vessels. Still, however,
though the president, Mr Adams, supported by the
leaders of the federalist party, continued to urge the
necessity of a war with France, yet, as the majority of
the people appeared decidedly averse to this measure,
he had the good sense to depart from his OAvn sentiments,
and to attempt a nerv negotiation. As the French di¬
rectory, by their misconduct, speedily brought their
country to the greatest embarrassments, by once more
arming all Europe against France, that nation found it
necessary, for the sake of its safety, to relinquish those
hopes of freedom for Avhich it had made so many sacri¬
fices, and to submit the whole poAver of the state to Bo¬
naparte, who had been the most successful commander
of its armies. Fie repaired the errors in the directory
by more moderate and better management, and settled
all differences Avith the American states.
During these political transactions, the two greatest Yellow
cities of these states, Philadelphia and Ncav York, hadfever.
suffered very severely by a pestilential disorder called
the yellow fever. It is understood to have been
brought originally by vessels employed in the slave-
trade on the Avestern coast of Africa to the West India
islands. After producing the most dreadful mortality
in that quarter, it Avas conveyed to the tAVO great cities
in America already mentioned, in consequence of their
frequent intercourse Avith the islands. From them it
at times extended itself to the other maritime towns.
Having once begun, it returned during different seasoue
toAvards the end of summer, and many thousand per¬
sons perished by it, besides those whose health was per¬
manently injured. More than half the inhabitants fled
from the cities; but those infected fortunately either
did not infect the inhabitants of the country to whose
houses they Avent, or the infection produced a less dan¬
gerous form of disease. The rents of houses sunk about
one half in Philadelphia and New York, and their ra¬
pid increase was considerably retarded. In consequence,
however, of the adoption of those measures of precau¬
tion which have been so long practised in Europe, but
which have been neglected in America, the danger of
a return of the same calamity seems to be someAvhat di¬
minished, though from the latest accounts it is by no
means done arvay.
It has been already mentioned, that a resolution Wasbinfr-
was very early adopted in America of endeavouring to ton, or
establish a federal city, as it is called, as the capital of|e<ieralc‘
the United States, which should be the seat of govern-
ment independent of every particular state, and having
its sovereignty vested in the whole union ; and Ave have
stated the circumstances which led to its establishment
on the banks of the Potowmack. Congress according¬
ly commenced its sittings at Washington at the end of
the year 1800. For several years preceding that pe¬
riod the commissioners of congress had been employed
in making out a plan of the city, and in erecting pu¬
blic buildings for the accommodation of the govern¬
ment. As the desire of wealth is a prevailing passion
in America, and as the people there readily engage in
extensive speculations upon every subject, the federal
city of Washington Avas for some time made the object
of an endless variety of purchases and sales of lots of
building
A M E
United building ground. The city, however, has not advanced
States, so rapidly as was expected, and many of the specula-
tors have suffered severely. In 1810, the city contain¬
ed 8208 inhabitants, and Georgetown 4948. In 1817,
4!7 the two places contained about 20,000.
State of The strong party spirit which raged in America was
)artic*. rather inflamed by some measures of Mr Adams’s ad¬
ministration. The new alien law, which required 14
years residence before a foreigner could be naturalized,
and the sedition bill, which rendered it penal to use ex¬
pressions tending to bring the government into con¬
tempt, were peculiarly ofi’ensive. Under the latter bill,
some individuals were tried and punished for speaking
disrespectfully of the president. The republicans re¬
sented these proceedings as inconsistent with the de¬
mocratic spirit of the government j regarding them as
the introduction of a system of violence and coercion,
borrowed from the despotisms of Europe. These feel¬
ings operated powerfully at the election of a president
in 1801, when, after a keen contest, the democratic
party prevailed \ Mr Adams was set aside, and Mr
Jefferson raised to the presidency. The virulence ot
party continued for some time, but gradually subsided
under the moderate and conciliatory measures of the
new administration. The obnoxious laws were repeal¬
ed or suffered to expire j the military establishment
was reduced $ the expenses of the government dimi¬
nished, and in 1802 all internal duties were abolished j
the revenue derived from the customs, and from the
sale of lands, being found sufficient for the support of
the public establishments. Since this period the de¬
mocratic party has been continually increasing in
strength. The history of the crisis in 1801 cannot
indeed be too much studied by public men. For some
yeax-s previous, the American government, supported
and strengthened by adventitious circumstances, was
pursuing a course certainly at variance with the opi¬
nions of the great mass of the people. The resentment
which this excited rendered measures of a coercive na¬
ture necessary: these measures inflamed still farther
the spirit they were meant to repress j and had the go¬
vernment been independent of the people, still stronger
measures would have been resorted to under the pre¬
text of extirpating a turbulent and dangerous spirit,
till liberty would have expired under the increasing
weight of the restrictions imposed on it. But the pu¬
rity of the representation enabled the people to arrest
the government in its career, and to bring it back to
a course, which whether wdser in itself or not, was
more consonant to the opinions of the people, and there¬
fore preferable. From that period the public discon¬
tents ceased, and the government has been administer¬
ed with a degree of tranquillity, prudence, and mode¬
ration, of which it would be difficult to find a parallel
instance in the same period.
In 1803, the United States acquired Louisiana by
purchase from France, to which it had been ceded by
Spain in 1801. The French government received for
this country 60,000,000 of francs, in which, however,
was included the amount of debts due by France to
citizens of the United States.
The vexations to which the American commerce was
exposed from the long hostilities of France and Eng¬
land, were greatly aggravated by Bonaparte’s famous
Berlin decree, (21st November 1806), and that of Mi¬
ll I C A.
99
lan, (17th December 1807), and by the British orders United
in council. To avoid being embroiled in the quarrels States
of these states, congress passed embargo and non-inter-
course laws in December 1807 ; but the mercantile
interest, who suffered severely under this system, were
so loud in their complaints, that the acts were repealed
in March 1809. This same year Mr Madison suc¬
ceeded Mr Jefferson as president; but this made no
change in the course of policy pursued by the govern¬
ment. Circumstances in the mean time were gradual¬
ly widening the breach between Britain and America.
The attack on the Chesapeake vessel of war, the mis¬
sion of Henry, the numerous seizures of vessels under
the orders in council, and the standing grievance of the
impressment of American seamen, were all inflaming
the public mind in the United States. The orders in
council were recalled in June 1812, but before intelli¬
gence of this reached America, war had been declared
against Britain. The first campaign commenced very
disastrously for the Americans. General Hull, who
had crossed into Upper Canada at Detroit with 2300
militia, surrendered without resistance on the 16th
August 18x2. Another expedition into Canada, under
General Von-Kenselaer, was equally unfortunate ; the
army, after carrying the forts opposite Lewistown, be¬
ing forced to capitulate. A third army, under General
Winchester, was defeated by the British under Colonel
Proctor, near Detroit, and also capitulated on the 27th
January. The Americans had some compensation for
these defeats by land in their unexpected success by
sea. The capture of the British frigate Guerrier of
49 guns, by the Constitution of 54 guns; of the Frolic
of 22 guns, by the Wasp of the same force ; of the Ma¬
cedonian and Java of 49 guns each, by the United
States and Constitution of 54, all in the course of 1812,
tended greatly to cheer the Americans under their re¬
verses, and to stimulate them to new efforts. The ac¬
tual difference of force, however, between the vessels,
was greater than appears from the enumeration of the
guns, as the American ships carry more men and heavier
metal.
In February 1813, the British crossed the St Law¬
rence and captured Ogdenburg ; and the Americans on
the other hand took York the capital of Upper Canada
by storm in April. In order to destroy the American
naval resources on Lake Ontario, Sir George Prevost
made an attack on Sackets harbour, but was repulsed
with considerable loss. The Americans in the mean
time were making great exertions to equip a naval force
to command the lakes, and the British had been equal¬
ly diligent. On Lake Erie, the two flotillas, consist¬
ing each of six or seven small vessels, fought an obsti¬
nate battle on the 10th September, which terminated
in the capture of the whole of the British vessels. This
enabled the American general Harrison to drive the
British from Malden, Detroit, and all the Michigan
territory. On Lake Ontario, the force of the parties
was more equally balanced. Sir James Yeo, and Com¬
modore Chauncey chaced one another alternately, each
being unwilling to fight unless under peculiar advan¬
tages. An expedition was undertaken by General
Wilkinson against Montreal, but after some unimport¬
ant fighting the enterprise was abandoned. Little more
was done during this campaign, except that some Ame¬
rican villages along the Niagara frontier were destroy-
N 2 ed
AMERICA.
United ed by the British. The most important naval action
States, in 1813 was that between the American frigate Chesa-
peake, and the British frigate Shannon, nearly equal
in force, in which the former was taken.
The third campaign threatened to prove much more
serious for the Americans 5 the overthrow of Bona¬
parte’s government in April 1814, having released the
British force which had been acting in France. The
United States were now assailed at both extremities,
and on the sea coast, at the same time. In the month
of July, Sir George Prevost having received reinforce¬
ments from England, advanced along the western shores
of Lake Champlain, with 15,000 men, with the view of
gaining possession of Plattsburg. He had advanced
to the vicinity of the town, and from the feeble means
of resistance it possessed would most probably have
carried it} but the British and American fleets on the
lake were in the mean time engaged, and Sir George,
with every prospect of success, had the mortification to
see his fleet defeated, and nearly all captured by the
enemy. Considering the co-operation of the fleet as
essential to his plan, he abandoned the enterprise, and
withdrew to Canada. On the Niagara frontier where
the forces were nearly equal, there was much hard
fighting. The American general Brown fought two
battles with General Rial, and one with General Drum¬
mond, in July and August, in all of which the Ameri¬
cans claimed the victory, though no beneficial result
followed. The British fleets in the mean time had
dosed up the Chesapeake and Delaware bays, the
Hudson river, and all the other considerable inlets on
the coast. By this blockade the American commerce
was much harassed and ultimately almost annihilated.
The revenue, depending chiefly on their imports, was
greatly reduced j and though internal taxes of various
kinds were imposed, the supplies were so inadequate,
that the government was forced to depend chiefly on
loans. At last money could not be raised even in
this way. Most of the banks stopped payment, and
general distrust and alarm prevailed. To add to the
perplexities of the govexmment, Massachusetts and
some other of the New England states, took a perfidi¬
ous advantage of the difficulties of the country, and
not only opposed the measures of the general govern¬
ment with the most factious zeal, but actually held a
convention with the view of dissolving the union. There
is no doubt that many of the leading men in these states
corresponded secretly with the British commanders, and
were guilty of actions for which in any other country
they would have forfeited their lives.
In August 1814, a large British fleet with 6000
troops on board entered the Chesapeake bay, and as¬
cended the Patuxent river, as high as Benedict. The
army having disembarked, advanced to Bladensburg,
defeated a body of American militia posted there, took
possession of Washington, and after burning the pre¬
sident’s house, the capitol, navy yard, bridge, and pub¬
lic offices, retired next day to their ships. Alexandria,
situated a few miles below Washington, at the same
time capitulated j but an attack made on Baltimore on
the 12th September, was repelled with great spirit,
with the loss of 250 men to the assailants, including
the commander in chief General Ross. The destroy¬
ing of public works at Washington, unconnected with
the purposes of war, was represented with some justice
3
by the Americans, as a flagrant violation of the laws United
of nations j and the keen resentment these acts ex- States,
cited, healed in some measure the party divisions
among the leading men, and made them more ardent in
the prosecution of the war. While these occurrences
were passing on the east coast, a small British force
in the gulf of Mexico attacked Fort Bowyer on Mo¬
bile point, but was repulsed by General Jackson. The
Creek Indians also in the Alabama territory, who had
taken arms, were subdued. A more formidable British
force, consisting of about 5000 men, under General
Packenham, was subsequently assembled in the bay of
Mexico, to attack New Orleans. After destroying an
American flotilla of gun boats in lake Borgne, a land¬
ing was effected. General Jackson was now placed in
critical circumstances. To oppose this force, consist¬
ing of veterans, he had only about 4700 men, chiefly
militia who had never been in battle ; and a part of
the inhabitants, who were Spaniards, were secretly dis¬
posed to favour the enemy. His prudence, judgment,
and decision, supplied all deficiencies, and saved Loui¬
siana. He seized certain suspected individuals, and
put the town under martial law on his own responsi¬
bility. His troops, a part of whom were from Tenessee
and Kentucky, though unaccustomed to face an enemy,
were admirably skilful in the use of the rifle. Taking
a position about five miles below New Orleans, with
the river on one flank, and a marsh on the other, he
threw up a temporary entrenchment, and waited the
attack. The British accordingly advanced on the 8th
January 1815, early in the morning. But the rifle¬
men, protected by their breastwork, poured in such a
destructive fire upon the assailants, that in the space
of one hour the British, though they reached the en¬
trenchment, were compelled to fly, with the enormous
loss of 2500 men killed and wounded, besides the ge¬
neral in chief, and the two officers next in commands
The loss of the Americans, according to their own ac¬
counts, was only six killed and seven wounded. The
British reimbarked about a fortnight afterwards. This
was the last action of the war by land. Several ac¬
tions between single ships took place by sea in 1815 j
of which the most important was that between the Pre¬
sident and Endymion, in which the former was taken 5
and that hetwixt the Constitution and two British ves¬
sels of inferior size, in which the latter were captured.
Negotiations had been carrying on for some months
at Ghent in the Netherlands ; and they were brought
to a close by a treaty signed the 24th December 1814.
In this treaty it was agreed that the disputes as to
boundaries should be settled by a special commission j
and that peace should be made with the Indians $ but
the discussion of the questions relative to impressment
and the rights of neutrals was waived as the new cir¬
cumstances of Europe rendered it unnecessary to stir
them.
After the conclusion of the peace, a naval force
was sent to chastise the Barbary powers, who had re¬
newed their depredations on the American commerce
during the war with Britain. Captain Decatur, after
taking an Algerine frigate, dictated a peace to that
power, in June 1815, compelling the Dey to give up
all slaves, and make reparation for past injuries. Tunis
and Tripoli were treated in the same way.
Mr Madison retired from office in 1817, and Mr
Munroe,
United
States.
Munroe, who had been employed In many foreign mis¬
sions, and in various public situations within the states,
was elected president. Mr Munroe came in on the
democratic interest, which seems now to have acquired
an immense preponderance ; but it is to the credit
both of the man and the party, that the public mea¬
sures have been conducted with singular prudence and
moderation ; and with much less of party spirit than
could have been expected in a government rested en¬
tirely on party support.
The Seminoles, a tribe of southern Indians, having
committed some excesses in 1817, General Jackson
was employed to reduce them j and, in the course ol his
operations, having formed an idea that they were se¬
cretly encouraged by the Spanish, authorities in Flori¬
da, he advanced into that province, and took Pensacola
by force on the 24th May 1818. The United States
however restored the place to Spain some time after;
but being anxious to gain possession of both Floridas,
they continued to treat with Spain for their cession.
A treaty to this effect was accordingly signed at Wash¬
ington, 22d February 1819 j but when transmitted to
Spain, Ferdinand refused to ratify it. In this state the
matter rests.
In 1816, after the close of the war, the debt of the
United States amounted to 123,630,691 dollars. Du¬
ring the four years of peace since elapsed, this debt
has been reduced to 88,885,203 dollars, or about*
19,300,000!. sterling. In 1817 the internal duties
were again abolished ; and the United States were thus*
put into a condition which presents a singular contrast
with that of every other civilized power. The re¬
venue for 1818 amounted to about 25,000,000 dollars,,
exclusive of arrears of internal duties ; but the shock1
which trade has received there, from the numerous
failures among the banks, and the mercantile interest
generally, in 1818 and 1819, renders it probable that
the customs and sale of lands will be no longer suf¬
ficient to meet the annual expenditure, (jrarden's Ac*
^lS cotint of the United States, Nile's Registeri)
Description The territory of the United States over which the
eftlie population is at present spread^ may be compared to a
^°'J^ar‘es slender cone, the axis of which passes through the Al¬
leghany mountains, bounded by the sea on the south¬
east and south sides, and on the north-west and west
sides by the Canadian lakes, the Wabash, part of its
course, and the Mississippi. In this way, excepting on
the corners touching New Brunswick belonging to Bri¬
tain on the north-east, and Florida belonging to Spain
on the south-east, the United States are almost entirely
surrounded by water. Parallel to the Atlantic ocean,
from Georgia on the south to the most northern states,
runs a tract of mountainous country, which receives the
general appellation of the Alleghany mountains. The
principal chain of these mountains is crossed by no
river. On the eastern side of it a vast variety of
streams of the greatest magnitude are formed, which
descend into the Atlantic ocean. Beyond this chain of
mountains, and parallel to it, at a considerable dis¬
tance, is the great river Ohio. All the rivers that
take their origin among the Alleghany mountains, be¬
yond the principal ridge, flow westward into the Mis¬
sissippi or Ohio. This last river, after passing along
the western side of the Alleghany mountains, falls in¬
to the Mississippi-, which passes round the southern ex-
AMERICA.
tremity of these mountains, into the Atlantic ocean at
the gulf of Mexico. The territory of the United
States west of the Ohio may also be considered as form¬
ing a triangle, of which the river Ohio, on the east,
forms the base $ rvhile the two sides are formed by the
chain of lakes already mentioned, and by the river
Mississippi. A considerable part of this western terri¬
tory is still possessed by the Indians. The whole terri¬
tory of the United States, eastward of the Mississippi,
contains, by computation, a million of square miles, in
which are - - 640,000,000 of acres,
Deduct for water, - 51,000,000
I QI
of the
United
States.
Acres of land in the United 7
States, $
589,000,000
419
By the acquisition of Louisiana in 1803, the United Louisiana
States obtained a prodigious accession of territory.Rcqwiied*
The whole surface west of the Mississippi is estimated
by Mr Warden at 1,800,000 square English miles j
and though there is in this space great tracts of barren
mountains and sands, the greater part of it consists ot
excellent soil, well watered, and abundantly supplied
with coal, lime, and salt. 420
No part of the world has so many navigable waters Tbe coua-
adjoining to its territory, or passing through it, as thel,,y well
United States of America. The Atlantic ocean, whichwatered*
forms their eastern boundary, is indented with numerous
bays, some of which are of very considerable extent,
and advance to a considerable distance into the coun¬
try. On the northern or north-easterly part of the
states is the bay of Fundy, between Nova Scotia and
New England, chiefly remarkable for its tides, which rise
to the height of 50 or 60 feet, and flow so rapidly as to
overtake animals that feed upon the shore. Next to it,
on the southward, are the bays called Penobscot and
Gasco, extending along the coast of the province of
Maine, which is the most northern territory of the
United States. Massachusets bay follows these, which
washes the town of Boston, and is comprehended be¬
tween Cape Ann on the north, and Cape Cod on the
south. Various small bays succeed to these, to the
southward, after which is Long Island sound. This is
a kind of inland sea, from three to 25 miles broad, and
about 140 miles long, extending the whole length of
the island, and dividing it from Connecticut. It com¬
municates with the ocean at both ends of Long Island,
and affords a very safe inland navigation. Near the
west end of this sound, about eight miles eastward of
the city of New York, is the strait called Hell Gate.
It is remarkable for its whirlpools, which make a tre¬
mendous roaring at certain times of the tide. They
are occasioned by the narrowness and crookedness of
the pass, and by a bed of rocks that extends quite across
it } but a skilful pilot can with safety conduct a ship
of any burden through this strait, with the tide, or at
still water, rvith a fair wind. Still proceeding to the
south, is Delaware bay, 60 miles in length, which is
so wide in some of its parts, that a ship in the middle
cannot be seen from the land. But of all the Ameri¬
can bays, the Chesapeak is the largest. Its entrance
is between Cape Charles, and Cape Henry in Virginia,
12 miles wide, and it extends 270 miles to the north¬
ward, dividing Virginia from Maryland. It is from
seven to 18 miles broad, and generally as much as nine
fathoms deep, affording many commodious harbouy&
and 5
<\GNAv
o
'A
^OOS
AMERICA.
United and a safe and easy navigation. It receives the waters
States, of theSusquehannahjPotowmack, Rappahannock, York,
^rn'w-t and James’s rivers, which are all large and navigable.
To the south of the Chesapeak, on the coast ot North
Carolina, are the three bays or sounds caWeA. Albemarle,
Pamlico, and Core. Of these Pamlico sound, which
lies between the other two, is the greatest. It is a kind
of lake, or inland sea, from 10 to 20 miles broad, and
nearly 100 miles in length. It is separated from the
sea in its whole length by a beach of sand, hardly a
mile wide, and generally covered with small trees and
bushes. Through this bank are several small inlets
by which boats may pass. But Ocrecok inlet is the
only one that will admit vessels of burden into the most
important districts of Edenton and Newbern. This
inlet is in lat. 350 io', and opens into Pamlico sound,
between Ocrecok island and Core bank j the land on
the north is called Ocrecok, and on the south Ports¬
mouth. A bar of sand having 14 feet water at low
tide crosses this inlet j and six miles within this bar the
channel is crossed by a shoal called the Swash, having
only eight or nine feet water at full tide. Few ma¬
riners, though acquainted with the inlets, choose to
bring in their own vessels, as the bar often shifts du¬
ring their absence on a voyage. To the north of
Pamlico sound, and communicating with it, Albemarle
sound extends 60 miles in length, and is from eight to
I 2 in breadth. Core sound, which lies to the south of
Pamlico, likewise communicates with it. These sounds
are so large, when compared with their inlets from the
sea, that no tide can be perceived in any of the rivers
which empty into them, nor is the water salt even in
the mouths of these rivers. A tract of low marshy terri¬
tory between Pamlico and Albemarle sounds is called
Dismal Swamp. The same name, however, is also given
to another tract at some distance to the northward of Al¬
bemarle sound. A part of this last tract is in North Ca¬
rolina, and the rest within the boundaries of Virginia.
As already stated, the northern or north-western
boundary of the United States, consists almost entirely
of a chain of lakes dividing the country from Canada.
These lakes consist of by far the largest collections of
fresh water that are to be found in the world. The
uppermost or most westerly is called the Lake of the
Woods, from the great forests upon its banks. Its
length from east to west is about 70 miles, and in some
places it is 40 miles wide. To the eastward of it is
Rainy or Long Lake, which is nearly 100 miles long,
but never more than 20 miles wide. To the eastward
of this is Lake Superior, justly termed the Caspian of
America. It is undoubtedly the largest bason of fresh
water in the world, being 1500 miles in circumfe¬
rence. The water is pure and transparent, and ap¬
pears generally to rest upon a bed of huge rocks. A
great part of its coast is likewise rocky and irregular.
It contains many islands, two of which are very consi¬
derable. The one, called Isle Royal, is about 100 miles
long, and in many places 40 miles broad. The lake
abounds with fish, particularly trout and sturgeon. It
is affected by storms in the same manner as the ocean.
Its waves run as high, and the navigation is equally
dangerous. It discharges its waters from the south¬
east corner, by a strait called St Marie, of about 40
miles long, into Lake Huron ; but this strait is not na¬
vigable, on account of its having at one part what the
2
Americans call a rapid, that is, a quick descent of the United
waters among rugged rocks. It does not appea.r, how- States,
ever, that above one-tenth of the Avaters which are ^
conveyed by about 40 rivers into Lake Superior, pass
out of it by the strait of St Marie, which nevertheless
is its only visible outlet. Considerable quantities of
copper ore are found in beds upon many small islands
in Lake Superior, but it has not hitherto become an
object of commerce.
Lake Huron is next in magnitude to Lake Superior,
being about 1000 miles in circumference. On the
north side of it is an island 100 miles in length, and
no more than eight miles broad. This island is consi¬
dered as sacred by the Indians. On its south-west side
Lake Huron sends out a bay, called Saganum bay,
into the country, of about 80 miles in length, and
about 18 in breadth. At its north-west corner, this
lake communicates with Lake Michigan by the straits
of Michillimakinac.
Lake St Claire receives the waters of the three great
lakes, Superior, Michigan, and Huron, and discharges
them, through a river or strait called Detroit, into
Lake Erie. It is about 90 miles in circumference.
Its navigation is obstructed by a bar of sand near the
middle, which prevents loaded vessels from passing.
Lake Erie is nearly 300 miles long from east to
west, and about 40 in its broadest part. Its islands
and banks are much infested with rattle-snakes. Near
the islands the water is covered for many acres to¬
gether with the large pond lily, on the leaves of
which, in the summer season, lie myriads of water
snakes basking in the sun. The American geogra¬
phers tell us of a remarkable snake found in this lake,
called the hissing snake. It is about 18 inches long,
and small and speckled. When approached, it flattens
itself, and the spots upon its skin become visibly bright¬
er. At the same time it blows from its mouth with
great force a subtile wind, said to be of a nauseous smell,
which, if drawn in by the breath of the traveller, infal¬
libly brings on a decline, that in a few months proves
fatal. This lake is of more dangerous navigation than
any of the others, on account of the many perpendicular
sharp rocks which it contains. It communicates with
Lake Ontario by the river Niagara, which is about
30 miles in length } and which being crossed by a
branch of the Alleghany mountains, consisting of lime¬
stone rock, fox*ms the celebrated falls of Niagara, one
of the most wonderful natural objects in the world,
on account of the immense weight of water that is at
once precipitated from a height which different travel¬
lers have estimated variously, from 137 to 160 feet. It
has been often described ; but as every traveller seems
to view it with greater astonishment than his predeces¬
sors, we shall state the terms in which it is mentioned
by the duke de la Rochefoucault Liancourt, who vi-
sited it in 1795. “ At Chippaway the grand specta-£)egcr-p{;0!ii
cle begins. The river, which has been constantly ex-0f Niagara.)
panding from Fort Erie to this place, is here upwards
of three miles wide; but on a sudden it is narrowed,
and the rapidity of the stream redoubled by the decli¬
vity of the ground on which it flows, as well as the
sudden contraction of its bed. The channel is rocky j
and the interspersed fragments of rocks increase the
violence of the stream. The country is flat and even
to this point; but here a range of white rocks arises
on
AMERICA. 103
United on each side of the river, which is contracted to half a
States, mile’s breadth. This range is a branch of the Alle-
ghany mountains, which proceeding from Florida, pre¬
viously to their reaching this point, intersect the whole
continent of America. The river, more closely hem¬
med in by the rocks on the right encroaching upon its
channel, branches into two arms, one of which flows
along the bank formed by the rocks on the right; and
the other, far more considerable, being separated by a
small island, makes straight on to the left, and sweeps
through a bason of stone which it fills with much
foam and noise. At length, being again obstructed by
other rocks which it meets on its right, it alters its
course, with redoubled violence ; and, along with the
right arm, rushes down a perpendicular ledge of rocks
160 feet high, nearly half concave, and probably
worn out by the incessant impetuosity of the waters.
Its width is nearly equal to that of its bed, the unifor¬
mity of which is only interrupted by an island which
separates the two arms, rests unshaken on its rocky ba¬
sis, and seems, as it were, to swim between the two
streams which rush down at once into this stupendous
chasm. The waters of the lakes Erie, Michigan, St
Claire, Huron, and Lake Superior, and of the nume¬
rous rivers emptying themselves into these lakes, inces¬
santly replace the water that thus dashes down. The
water of the fall tumbles perpendicularly on the rocks.
Its colour is at times a dark green ; at others a foam¬
ing white, brilliant throughout, and displaying a thou¬
sand variegations as it is struck by the rays of the sun,
or, according to the time of the day, the state of the
atmosphere, the force of the wind, &c. The water
which rushes down the rocks rises in part in a thick
column of mist, often towering above the height of the
falls and mixing with the clouds. The remainder,
broken in its perpendicular descent by fragments of
rocks, is in continued agitation, spouts and foams, and
casts on shore logs of wood, whole trees, boats, and
wrecks, which the stream has swept along in its course.
The bed of the river formed by the two ridges of rocks,
which extend a great way farther, is still more nar¬
rowed, as if part of this mighty stream had vanished
during the fall, or were swallowed up by the earth.
The noise, agitation, irregularity, and rapid descent
of the stream, continue seven or eight miles farther onj
and the river does not become sufficiently placid for a
safe passage, till it reaches Queenstown nine miles from
the falls. It is superfluous to mention, that notwith¬
standing the severity of the winter in this country, the
cataract as well as the river above it are never frozen.
But this is not the case with the lakes and smaller ri¬
vers that supply it with water. Enormous flakes of
ice rush constantly down this cataract when the thaw
sets in, without being entirely dashed to pieces on the
rocks; and thus are frequently piled in huge masses
up to half its height. With the noise occasioned by tbe
falls, we were less struck than we expected; and Mr
Guillemard, as well as myself, who had both seen the
Bhine fall near Schafhausen, could not but acknow¬
ledge that the noise it produces is far more striking.
Yet I must repeat it again and again, that nothing can
stand the test of comparison with the falls of Niagara.
Let no one expect to find here something pleasing,
wildly beautiful, or romantic 5 all is wonderfully grand,
awful, sublime : every power of the soul is arrested j the
impression strikes deeper the longer you contemplate, United
and you feel more strongly the impossibility of doing State*,
justice to your perceptions and feelings.” y—.
Lake Ontario, which is the lowest of the great lakes
that form the northern frontier of the United States,
is of an oval form, and abounds with fish of an excel¬
lent flavour. It discharges itself on the north-east into
the river Iroquois, which, at the town of Montreal,
takes the name of the river St Lawrence 5 and passing
by Quebec, falls into the Atlantic ocean at the gulf of
St Lawrence.
The river Mississippi is supposed, when its winding*
are included, to be upwards of 3000 miles in length,
and to extend nearly 2000 in a direct line. It is navi¬
gable to the falls of St Anthony in about lat. 440 30'.
About lat. 290, a large river called the Illinois, be¬
longing to the United States, falls into it; and it is
soon afterwards joined by a larger river than itself from
the south, called the Missouri, which has a greater
length of navigation. At the distance of 230 miles be¬
low its junction with the Missouri, the river Ohio,
which is a mile in breadth, falls into the Mississippi.
From the mouth of the Ohio it continues to descend
1005 miles to the town of New Orleans, after passing
which it falls into the gulf of Mexico. In spring floods
the Mississippi rises to a great height, and overflows
its banks, depositing upon them immense quantities of
fertilizing mud or slime. After its junction with the
Missouri, its waters become so loaded with the earthy
particles, that in a half-pint tumbler they have been
found to deposite a sediment of two inches of slime. Its
banks, to a great distance from its mouth, appear to
have been gradually formed by the deposition of trees
and mud, which its floods bring down from the higher
country. The soil is accordingly extremely soft, rich,
and moist. It is apt to be broken up by the periodical
floods of the river, which sometimes appears to alter its
channel.
When in flood, the current of the Mississippi is so
strong that with difficulty it can be ascended. The
current descends at the rate of five miles an hour $ but
it is observed, that at this period there is a counter
current which runs at the rate of about two miles an
hour, close to the banks of the river, which greatly as¬
sists the ascending boats. In autumn, when the wa¬
ters are low, it does not descend faster than two miles
an hour, unless where the stream is narrowed by
clusters of islands, shoals, and sand banks. The upper
parts of the Mississippi are usually navigated in ves¬
sels carrying about 40 tons, and rowed by 18 or 20
men j and what is remarkable, the depth of the river
increases as it is ascended. The voyage from New
Orleans, near the mouth of the Mississippi, upwards
to the river Illinois, is usually performed in eight or
ten weeks $ but the steam-boats recently introduced
have rendered the communication vastly more rapid.
According to a recent statement, there were in 1819
about 35 steam-boats on the Mississippi, which gene¬
rally sail at the rate of 60 miles a-day against the
stream.
The Missouri exceeds 3200 miles in length, reckon¬
ing from the Mississippi; and it is navigable for boats
about 3090 miles. The whole extent of navigable wa¬
ters in the Missouri, and its branches, is estimated at
15,000 miles : that of the Mississippi and its tributa-
rie#
104
United
States.
422
Lakes in
the interi¬
or.
4*3
Eastern
rirers.
AMERICA.
ries at 8500 miles. For an account of the territory
watered by the Missouri, see America, Supple¬
ment.
The lakes in the interior are by no means equal
in extent to those upon the frontier. They are chiefly
situated in the state of New York, or in its vicini¬
ty. Lake Champlain is the largest. It lies nearly
to the east of Lake Ontario, and is about 80 miles in
length from north to south, and 14 miles over at its
broadest part. The others most considerable in size,
are Lake George, which is about 55 miles long from
north-east to south-west, but narrow j the Seneca and
Cayoga, each about 30 or 40 miles in length j and
Lake Oneida, which extends to 25 miles.
It has been already mentioned, that, to the eastward
of the Alleghany mountains, all the rivers flow into
the Atlantic ocean. Of these, beginning with the
north, and going southward, the following are the most
remarkable. In the states to the eastward of New
York, which were formerly called the New England
colonies, and which are now divided into the five states
of New Hampshire, Massachusets, Rhode Island, Con¬
necticut, and Vermont, there is only one river of any
importance, called Connecticut river. It rises in lat.
450 10', long. 710 west from London. Its length in a
straight line is nearly 300 miles. At its mouth is a
bar of sand which obstructs the navigation. Ten feet
water at full tides is found upon this bar. The river is
navigable to Hartford, which is upwards of 50 miles
from its mouth, and the produce of the country for 200
miles above is brought thither in boats. The boats
which are used in this business are flat-bottomed, long,
and narrow, for the convenience of going up the stream,
and of so light a make as to be portable in carts. They
are taken out of the river at diflerent carrying-places.
To the south of Connecticut river is Hudson’s river,
one of the largest and finest in the United States. It
rises in the mountains between the lakes Ontario and
Champlain, and is 250 miles in length, falling into the
ocean near New York, which stands upon it. About
60 miles above New York the water becomes fresh ;
but the tide flows a few miles beyond the flourishing
town called Albany, 160 miles above New York, and
to this distance the river is navigable by sloops of 80
tons burden. From Albany to the neighbourhood of
Lake George is 65 miles, and to thisBdistance the river
is navigable by light boats j but there are two port¬
ages, or carrying-places, in the way, of half a .mile
each. By this river the produce of the remotest farms
is easily and speedily conveyed to a certain and profit¬
able market a^the great trading city of New York.
Its banks are populous to a considerable distance, and
a flourishing inland trade is carried on upon it between
Albany and New York in nearly 100 vessels of about
70 tons burden, the greater part of which belong to
the inhabitants of Albany. They make ten voyages in
a year, are. navigated by a master, a mate, and two
men. The steam boats, however, now furnish a much
more speedy conveyance.
The next great river to the southward is the Dela¬
ware. It rises in the state of New York in Lake Ut-
stayantho, and takes its course south-west, till it crosses
into Pennsylvania, in latitude 42*. Thence it still
proceeds southward, dividing the states of New York
®nd New Jersey, passing into the ocean through De¬
laware bay, having New Jersey on the north-eastern United
side, and Pennsylvania and Delaware on the west. State*.
From the mouth of Delaware bay, between Cape Hen-
lopen and Cape May, to the city of Philadelphia, is
about 118 miles. So far there is a sufficient depth of
water for a 74 gun ship. At Philadelphia the river
is extremely beautiful, passing through a rich and po¬
pulous country. It is three miles broad, and the water
is perfectly fresh. From Philadelphia upwards to Tren¬
ton Falls, where the sloop-navigation ends, is 35 miles.
The river is navigable 40 miles farther for boats that
carry eight or nine tons ; and, with some carrying-
places, it is navigable for Indian canoes, or such boats
as we have already mentioned to be in use upon Con¬
necticut river, for 150 miles. The tide reaches Tren¬
ton Falls, and rises six feet at Philadelphia. Three
miles below this city, the Delaware receives the river
Schuylkill, which is navigable about 85 or 90 miles.
The Susquehannah river also rises in the state of
New York, crosses the state of Pennsylvania, and flows
into the great bay of Chesapeak, after receiving many
large streams, several of which are navigable for 50
miles $ this river itself being navigable to an immense
extent, though sometimes interrupted by rocks, which
form troublesome rapids.
Next to these follow the Virginian rivers, the great¬
er part of which flow into the bay of Chesapeak. The.
value of these stx-eams can only be understood by an
inspection of the map of the country. Almost every
farm house, to the eastward of the Alleghany mountains,
has a navigable river at its door: the result of which
has been, that few towns of any consequence exist there,
and every planter is in some measure a merchant as
well as a cultivator of the soil. The most northerly
of the Virginian rivers is the Potowmack, upon which
the federal city of Washington is placed. It is seven
miles and a half broad at the mouth. The distance from
the capes of Virginia to the termination of the tide¬
water in this river is above 300 miles, and it is navi¬
gable for ships of the greatest burden nearly to that
extent. Thereafter it is obstructed by four considera¬
ble falls, or rather rapid descents of the stream among
rocks, which for a few miles interrupt the navigation.
At these falls, however, navigation is continued, by-
means of canals supplied with locks \ so that this river
aflords a water communication for many hundred miles
above the termination of the tide. It also receives a
great variety of navigable streams ; one of which is the
Shenandoah, which is said to be navigable for small ves¬
sels for upwards of 100 miles. The Rappahannock,
York river, and James’s river, with their various tri¬
butary streams, follow in succession. In a multitude of
directions, they afford a communication across the first
ridge of mountains, called the Elue mountains, to the
foot of the great middle ridge, or the proper Alleghany
mountains. In their course they not only facilitate
the intercourse of the inhabitants, but, in several situa¬
tions, exhibit instances of splendid and beautiful
scenery. The junction of two of these rivers presents
some beautiful scenery.
To the southward of Virginia, that is, in the states
of North Carolina and Georgia, a great variety of ri¬
vers flow into the ocean. As the face of the country,
however, is very level, the sand which they bring down
in spring floods, or which is cast up by the ocean upon
A M E
United ^ie coast> ts apt to obstruct the entrance into them $ so
States, that they are deeper within the country than at the
—"■v shore. One general rule obtains with regard to
them : They are navigable by any vessel that can pass
the bar at their mouths j and while a river continues
broad enough for a vessel to turn round, there is gene¬
rally a sufficient depth of water for it to proceed. In
North Carolina, the principal rivers are, the Roanoke,
which is navigable for small vessels about sixty or
seventy miles ; the Pamlico, which is navigable for 90
miles ; Neus river, which carries small boats to the di¬
stance of 250 miles ; and Trent river, which is navi¬
gable for 40 miles. In South Carolina are the Sante,
the Savannah, and the Pedee, which rise from various
sources in that ridge of mountains which divides the
waters which flow into the Atlantic ocean from those
which fall into the Mississippi. They are navigable to
a great distance, as well as a variety of others of less
note. In Georgia there are also several rivers, which
are navigable to the distance of eighty or ninety miles j
but the entrance into them from the ocean is very diffi¬
cult, as the extreme flatness of the country prevents the
stream from having sufficient force to keep their cur¬
rent clear of obstructions at their confluence with the
424 sea-tides.
Western The western waters of the United States, or those
vateis. beyond the Alleghany range, are not less abundant, or
less convenient for navigation, than those on the eastern
side of the mountains. We have already remarked,
that at Pittsburg the great river Ohio commences j
being there formed by the confluence of two, or rather
three rivers, the Alleghany, the Monongahela, and the
Yohogany ; which last runs into the Monongahela,
about fifty miles above Fort Pitt. These three rivers,
previous to their junction, afford an inland navigation
of many hundred miles. The Monongahela is no less
than 400 yards wide at its mouth. At the distance of
100 miles above this, it is still 300 yards in breadth,
and affords good navigation for boats. For 50 miles
higher it is still navigable j though the navigation is
apt to be interrupted during dry seasons. The Alle¬
ghany also affords a very distant navigation, extending
at times, in very small vessels, to within 15 miles of
Lake Erie, on the northern boundary of the United
States. 1 he Ohio, being formed by the junction of
these rivers, proceeds along the back, or western side,
of the Alleghany, to the distance of 1188 miles before
it falls into the Mississippi, receiving in its course a
great variety of tributary streams, both from its eastern
and western sides. It is said to be one of the most
beautiful rivers on earth j its current is gentle ; its wa¬
ters are clear j and its bosom smooth and unbroken by
rocks and rapids, a single instance excepted. It is
one quarter of a mile wide at Pittsburg, and increases
gradually to one mile in width at its mouth j though
at various places it is occasionally broader and narrow¬
er. At the rapids, or rocky part of its channel, which
for about a mile disturb the navigation, it is only a
quarter of a mile in breadth. These rapids are in la¬
titude 38° 8'. It affords at all times a sufficiency of
water for light boats to Pittsburg. The inundations
of the river begin about the last of March, and subside
in July. During these, were it not for the rapidity of
the current, and the sudden turns of the river, a first
rate man of war might ascend from the ocean to the
Vol. II. Part I. +
RICA. IC5
rapids. But at this place the rise of the water does not United
exceed ten or twelve feet. The water there descends States,
about thirty feet in a mile and a half. The bed of the * ”
river is a solid rock, and is divided by an island into
two branches. But it is said that the southern branch
is at most seasons navigable in small boats, when con¬
ducted by skilful pilots.
The following are the chief rivers which flow into
the Ohio from the east: The Great Kanhaway, and
the Little Kanhaway ; the navigation of which last is
much interrupted by rocks. The former, however, af¬
fords a tolerable navigation of about 90 miles, and is
280 yards wide at its mouth. The Little Kanhaway
is 150 yards broad 5 but it is navigable only for 10
miles.—After these are the rivers called Sandy, Lick¬
ing, and Kentucky. The former constitutes the eastern
boundary of Kentucky, and reaches the Alleghany moun¬
tains. It is of no great size. Licking river is 100
miles in length, and 100 yards broad at its mouth.
The Kentucky is a very crooked stream, of 200 miles
in length. It falls into the Ohio by a mouth of too
yards broad.
Below the rapids of the Ohio, in the rich country of
Kentucky, is Salt river, 90 miles in length, and 80
yards wide. Green river falls into the Ohio 1 20 miles
below the rapids. Its course is upwards of 150 miles.
Cumberland river falls into the Ohio 413 miles below
the rapids. Its length is upwards of 550 miles.
These rivers are navigable for boats almost to their
sources, without rapids or interruptions, for the greatest
part of the year. Their banks are generally high, and
composed of limestone. Below these is the Tenessee,
which runs into the Ohio a short way below the mouth
ol the Cumberland. The Tenessee is 600 yards wide
at its mouth, and upon ascending it, to the distance of
200 miles, it widens to between two and three miles ;
which width it continues for nearly thirty miles. Thus
far it is navigable by vessels of great burden. ' Here,
however, it is interrupted by certain shoals, called the
Mussel Shoals, from the great quantity of shell fish with
which they are covered. These shoals can only be pas¬
sed in small boats j above which, however, the river
again becomes navigable for boats of forty or fifty tons
burden for some hundred miles j and it is easily navi¬
gated at least 600 miles above the Mussel Shoals.
Of the rivers that flow into the Ohio from the tvest
the following are the chief: The Muskingum, which
is a gentle stream, confined by high banks. With a
portage or carrying-place of about one mile, it affords
a communication with a small navigable stream called
the Cuyahoga, which flows into Lake Erie. There¬
after is the river Hockhocking, inferior to the Mus¬
kingum, but navigable for large boats about seventy
miles, and for small ones much farther, through a
country abounding with coal, iron, stone, and other
minerals. Next is the Sioto, which can be navigated
with large barges for 200 miles. Then follows the
Great Miami, which is navigable to an immense di¬
stance, even to the neighbourhood of Lake Erie. The
Wabash falls into the Ohio by a mouth 270 yards
wide, 1020 miles below Pittsburg. The Wabash is a
beautiful river, with high and fertile banks. It can
be navigated with boats drawing three feet water, 412
miles, and by large canoes 167 miles farther. Besides
these streams which fall into the Ohio, a variety of
O rivers
jo6 A M E
United rivers of great size and importance are to be found still
states, farther to the westward within the territories of the U-
' v ’ nited States. They either fall into the Mississippi on
the south-west, or into the great northern lakes j but
a particular description of them here is unnecessary.
One of the chief of them is the Illinois, which tails
into the Mississippi, 176 miles above or to the westward
of the Ohio, by a mouth about 400 yards wide. It is
navigable to a great distance, and interlocks with the
rivers that fall into the northern lakes, in such a
way as to furnish a communication with Lake Michi¬
gan, with the aid of two portages, the longest of which
does not exceed four miles. It receives a number ot
rivers, which are navigable for boats from 15 to 180
miles.
One general remark must be made with regard to
all the American rivers $ that, in consequence of the
immense torrents of rain which fall at certain seasons of
the year, they are liable to swell, and to overflow their
banks in a most violent manner; arising, in a short
time, xo, or even 20 or 25 feet in height. This ren¬
ders their navigation not a little difficult, on account
of the great force that is necessary to convey a vessel up¬
wards against the rapidity of the stream. These great
floods also render it difficult to establish canals at those
parts of any river where falls, or, as the Americans
stile them, rapids, occur ; because the locks, which, in
such situations, are necessary upon the canals, to raise
and let down the vessels, are in great danger of being
swept away by the sudden swelling and overflowing of
the river. Notwithstanding this inconvenience, how¬
ever, it is abundantly evident, that no country on earth
possesses the same advantages, in point of internal com¬
munication, with the United States of America. Even
the great Alleghany ridge, which seems to form a bar¬
rier between the east and the west, is so closely ap¬
proached on both sides by navigable streams, that the
land carriage necessary in crossing it extends, in some
situations, to little more than 40 miles ; and, when the
increasing population of the country shall have rendered
such a measure useful or necessary, it will probably be
found not difficult to complete the communication by
water by the aid of artificial canals.
Face of the With regard to the general face of the country
country. within the territory of the United States, it is very va¬
rious. We have already stated, that a great chain of
mountains runs from the state of Georgia northward,
parallel to the Atlantic ocean, all the way to the great
northern lakes. These mountains are not solitary, or
scattered in a confused manner j but are formed into
different ridges, receiving various appellations in dif¬
ferent states. In Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North
Carolina, the principal ridges, beginning on the east,
are called, first, the Kittatinny or Blue Mountain, at the
distance of from 120 to 130 miles from the sea. It is
about 4000 feet high, and the country rises from the
sea so slowly and gradually towards it, as to appear al¬
together level. Back from the first ridge, and nearly
parallel to it, are the ridges called Peters, Tuscorara,
and Nescopek; but these names are not in all places ad¬
hered to. Then follow the ridges called in Pennsylvania
Shoreman's hills. Sidelong hills, Ragged, Great-war¬
riors, Erits and Wills mountains; then the great Al¬
leghany ridge which gives its name to the whole. Be¬
yond it are the Laurel and Chesnut ridges, and various
Pt X C A.
others. These ridges being parallel to eacli other are Unhed
themselves incapable of cultivation ; but they are di- at‘Uet'
vided by rich plains of various breadth and oKmmense 'r
length, containing rivers ol different degrees of magni¬
tude. On the east of the mountains, from the lowest
ridge to the ocean, the country, as already mentioned,
descends very gradually j and in the southern states,
for 150 miles from the ocean, is almost entirely level,
consisting of a low flat country, apparently formed by
sand thrown up by the tides, and by particles ot mud
deposited by the rivers in their spring floods. In the
southern states, that is, those to the south ot New York,
the soil near the rivers is coarse or fine, according to
its distance from the mountains. Near them it con¬
tains a large mixture of coarse sand j but on the banks
of the rivers towards the sea, it consolidates into a fine
clay; which, when exposed to the weather, falls down
into a rich mould. In the states of South Carolina and
Georgia, for many miles from the ocean, when a pit is
dug to the depth of 20 feet, every appearance of a salt
marsh is usually found, such as marsh grass, marsh mud,
and brackish water.
Beyond the Alleghany mountains the country to the
westward is irregular, broken, and variegated, but with¬
out great mountains. Various small ridges, however,
descend to the westward, between which flow the rivers
that run into the Ohio. In some situations, particu¬
larly in the neighbourhood of Pittsburg, the variety of
ite surface is said to render the country extremely beau¬
tiful.
Towards the north part of the state of New York,
and in the New England states, the country, different
from the rest of America, is rough and hilly, or even
mountaigous, though, upon the whole, their mountains
are trifling when compared to those in other parts of
the world. Nor does it appear, that in almost any
part of the United States, any such thing is to be met
with as mountains entirely rugged and barren, rearing
their naked summits to the clouds. Even to the top
of the Alleghany ridge the whole country is one wav¬
ing forest, though the trees are of different size and
species, according to the variety of soil upon which
they stand. Notwithstanding this general regularity of
the surface of the country, to the eastward of the
mountains, it is not destitute of objects which mark it
to have undergone convulsions or changes. Of these
we may mention one instance, being a curiosity wor¬
thy of attention, in the state of Virginia, called Natural 4a^
Bridge or Rockbridge. It is on the ascent of a hill
which seems to have been cloven through its length
by some great convulsion. The fissure just at the
bridge is, by some admeasurements, 270 feet deep, by
others only 205. It is about 45 feet wide at the bot¬
tom, and 60 feet at the top. The breadth of the
bridge in the middle is about 60 feet, but more at the
ends, and the thickness of the mass at the summit of
the arch is about 40 feet. A part of this thickness
consists of a coat of earth which gives growth to many
large trees. The residue, with the hill on both sides,
is one solid rock of limestone. Though the sides of
this bridge are provided in some places with a parapet
of fixed rocks, yet few men have resolution to advance,
without creeping upon their hands and feet, to look
over into the abyss. To a spectator from the low
ground, the arch appears beautiful and light, as. if
springing
A M E
United
States.
427
?,aTerns.
Rochefou-
cault's
Travels,
vol. ii.
springing towards heaven j affording through it a plea¬
sing view of the mountains at five miles distance. The
water passing under the bridge is called Cedar Creek,
and the bridge itself is a part of a public road, as it
affords a commodious passage across a valley. The
county, in which it is situated, is called from it the
County of Rockbridge.
In the same state of Virginia, there are some caverns
mentioned by the American geographer, Dr Morse,
which are not unworthy of notice as natural curiosities.
The most noted is that called Maddison's Cave, on the
north side of the mountains denominated the Blue Ridge,
near the river Shenandoah. It is in a hill of about 200
feet perpendicular height, the ascent of which on one
side is so steep, that you may pitch a biscuit from its
summit into the water which washes its base. The en¬
trance of the cave is in this side, about two-thirds of
the way up. It extends into the earth about 300 feet,
branching into subordinate caverns, sometimes ascend¬
ing a little, but more generally descending, and at
length terminates in two different places, at basons of
water of unknown extent, nearly on a level with the
water of the river, of which, however, they do not seem
to be refluent water, as they are never turbid, and do
not rise and fall in correspondence with it, in seasons of
rain or drought. The vault of the cave is of solid lime¬
stone, from 20 to 40 and 50 feet high, through which
water is continually percolating. This water has de¬
posited a crust, forming the appearance of an elegant
drapery on the sides of the cave, and, in dropping from
the roof of the vault, generates, on that and on the
base, stalactites of a conical form, some of which have
met and formed massy columns.
There is another cave, in the North Ridge or North
Mountain, which enters from the summit of the ridge.
The descent is at first 30 or 40 feet perpendicular, as
into a well, from whence the cave extends nearly ho-
1'iz.ontally 400 feet, preserving a breadth of from 20 to
50 feet, and a height of from five to 12 feet. The heat
of the cave is permanently at about 470 of Fahrenheit’s
thermometer.
In another ridge is a blowing cave in the side of a
hill. It is about 100 feet diameter, and constantly emits
a current of air, of such force, as to keep the weeds pro¬
strate to the distance of 20 yards before it. The cur¬
rent is strongest in frost, and weakest after long rains.
It probably communicates with a waterfall in the bowels
of the earth, the dashing of which generates the current
of air, as we know that at the mines, called Lead Hills,
in Scotland, for more than a century past, a small wa¬
terfall at the bottom of a mine, has been used for the
purposes of ventilation, the air generated from the wa¬
ter being conveyed in large tubes to any place where
it is wanted. The blowing engine, called the trompe,
which is used at some founderies, is also constructed on
the same principle.
On the first of June 1796, a pretty remarkable phe¬
nomenon occurred in the vicinity of the town of Kats-
kill, in the state of New York. The country in the
neighbourhood is a succession of little hills, or rather
small elevations, detached from each other, and only
connected a little at the basis. One of these hills, the
nearest to Katskill Creek, and elevated about 100 feet
above the level of the creek, suddenly suffered a sink¬
ing of more than half its declivity. It might have
RICA. y 107
measured about 150 feet, from its summit to the extre- United
mity of its base, following the line of inclination. A States,
breadth of about 80 fathoms fell in, beginning at about* »
3 or 4 fathoms from the top. The sunken part gave
way all of a sudden, and fell so perpendicularly that a
flock of sheep feeding on the spot, went down with it
without being overturned. The trunks of trees that
remained on it in a half rotten state, were neither un¬
rooted, nor even inclined from their former direction,
and now stand at the bottom of this chasm, of above
four acres in extent, in the same perpendicular posi¬
tion, and on the same soil. However, as there was
not sufficient space for all this body of earth, which
before had lain in a slope, to place itself horizontally
between the two parts of the hill that have not quitted
their station, some parts are cracked, and as it were
furrowed. But a more striking circumstance is, that
the lower part of the hill, which has preserved its for¬
mer shape, has been pushed and thrown forward by the
sinking part making itself room j that its base has ad¬
vanced five or six fathoms beyond a small rivulet, which
before flowed at the distance of above 10 fathoms from
it •, and that it has even entirely stopped the couise of
its stream. The greatest elevation of the chasm is about
50 or 60 feet: in its sides it has discovered a blue
earth, exhibiting all the characteristics of marl. In
some of the strata of the marl is found sulphate of lime
in minute crystals. The sinking of the hill made so
little noise, as not to be heard at the proprietor’s house,
at the distance of 300 fathoms, nor at the town, which
is separated from the hill only by the narrow stream of
the creek. / 428
The soil of the United States is not less various than Soil,
in other countries. In the New England states, in
consequence of the ix-regularity of the surface, rich
and poor territory are interspersed •, but in the southern
states, the limits of the fertile and of the more unpro¬
ductive parts of the country are more distinctly marked.
In general the soil is less deep and rich as the land
approaches towards the mountains. The neighbour¬
hood of the sea consists of great swamps, which being
overflowed by the adjoining rivers, render the land un¬
healthy, though fit for the cultivation of rice and other
valuable productions. Hence, as the first or lowest
ridges of mountains possess a considerable degree of fer¬
tility, they are better inhabited, because more healthful
than the low country. The long valleys between the
ridges of the Alleghany mountains are everywhere fer¬
tile ; but they are sometimes very narrow. Beyond
the mountains from Pittsburg to the northern lakes in
the back parts of the state of New York, the country
is fertile but moist, and lies low. Around Pittsburg
itself, as already mentioned, to a considerable distanct,
the country has a beautiful variegated aspect. On the
eastern side of the Ohio, however, below Pittsburg,
the country speedily becomes rugged } and, for some
hundred miles, is little inhabited, to the borders of the
fertile country of Kentucky, which in a few years has
been settled, rendered populous, and assumed into the
number of the United States. To the westward of the
Ohio river the soil is generally rich, but in some places
rather marshy. The surface has an agreeable undu¬
lation, and there are extensive tracts of land called
prair ies, which are found naturally clear of wood, and
ready for cultivation. In general, concerning the
O 2 whole
io8
AMERICA.
Unked
States.
.4*9
Minerals.
whole American territory, it may be observed, that
wherever the land is tolerably level, it must have been
originally fertile. Being covered with forests, it re¬
ceived every year a bed of leaves spread over its sur¬
face $ which, by continually rotting in succession, have
formed a vegetable mould of great fertility.
The mineral productions of the territory of the Unit¬
ed States are various, as in other parts of the world. The
form of mountains, rocks, and beds of different minerals,
is the same here as elsewhere. There are found different
species of granite, combined and varied as in the moun¬
tains of Europe ; innumerable kinds of schists, of lime¬
stones, more or less perfect, and minerals of almost eve¬
ry species. In general, however, it may be remark¬
ed, that American mineralogy offers few varieties for
observation, as the same substances usually pervade a
considerable tract of country. The great mountains,
that is to say, the most elevated, particularly the cen¬
tral ridge of the Alleghany, and the highest mountains
of New England, are generally formed of granite.
Those of inferior altitude successively exhibit schistus
more or less perfect, slate, feldtspath, calcareous stone,
and some sand stones of extreme hardness, and in a
state of great perfection. The whole territory to the
eastward of the Alleghany mountains, appears to em¬
bosom vast quantities of iron ore. The iron ore is of
two kinds: one is capable of being manufactured into
malleable iron, and is found in the mountains, and al¬
so in low barren soils. The other kind of iron is call¬
ed bog~oi'e. It is produced in rich valleys. It is said
to consist of iron united with the phosphoric acid. In
the furnace it yields iron of a hard brittle quality. In
consequence of the abundance of timber still to be found
in the country, a considerable number of iron mines are
wrought to the eastward of the mountains j the fuel
used in which consists of charcoal. Their produce,
however, is very trifling ; none of them make more
than to the amount of 1600 tons of pig iron annually,
and about 150 of bar iron. The toughness of the cast
iron manufactured in some of the Virginian furnaces,
is said to be very remarkable. Pots and other utensils,
cast thinner than usual, of this iron, may be safely
thrown into or out of the waggons in which they are
transported. Salt pans made of it, and no longer
wanted for that purpose, cannot be broken up to be
melted again, unless previously drilled in many parts.
Coal mines are wrought in the eastern part of Vir¬
ginia*, but, upon the whole, little coal is found in the
United States to the eastward of the mountains, where
iron ores are extremely abundant. On the contrary, to
the westward of these mountains, iron has scarcely been
perceived 5 whereas coal is in the greatest plenty. In
the fine country round Pittsburg, at the head of the
Ohio, 320 miles west from Philadelphia, coal is not
only extremely plentiful, but of a very superior qua¬
lity. A bed of it in that neighbourhood was on fire
for about twenty years, but little damage appears to
have been produced. Coal has been discovered in so ma¬
ny places to the eastward of the Ohio, as to produce an
opinion, that the whole tract of country beyond the
mountains, from Pittsburg to the Mississippi, abounds
with it. Immense beds of limestone rock are to be
found in the most eastern tract of mountains. Below
these mountains it seldom appears ; but in Virginia,
from the Blue Ridge westward, the whole country
3
seems to be founded on a rock of limestone, besides United
great quantities on the surface both loose and fixed. It States,
is formed into beds which range as the mountains and
sea coast do, from south-west to noith-east; the lami¬
nae of each bed declining from the horizon towards a
parallelism with the axis of the earth. In some in¬
stances, however, but rarely, they are found perpen¬
dicular and even reclining the other way. But such cases
are always attended with signs of convulsion, or other
circumstances of singularity. Limestone is also found
on the Mississippi and Ohio. Indeed that mineral ap¬
pears to pervade the whole length of the ridges of the
Alleghany mountains ; and towards the lakes Erie and
Ontario, the whole country rests upon limestone. It
is not found on the high ridges themselves of the Al¬
leghany mountains j but it occupies the fertile valleys
between them, and is seen at the banks of the rivers
which pass along these valleys. It sometimes appears
to the eastward, in the form of very fine marble, chief¬
ly coloured, quarries of which are wrought to adorn the
houses of the wealthier citizens in the great towns.
Copper has been found in a variety of situations to
the eastward of the mountains. At the distance of
eight or ten miles from New York is a pretty rich
copper mine. The oi*e is irregularly scattered through
a kind of sand-stone, often resembling grit, and some¬
times the pudding-stone. It yields from 60 to 70
pounds of fine copper per cwt. Previous to the revo¬
lution it used to be carried to England, where it bore
a higher price than any other ore of the same metal.
The min6 has been several times wrought, abandoned,
and resumed. Some workmen, mostly Germans, were
brought over from Europe for the purpose within these
few years, and paid from 15 to 20 dollars per month.
But the high price of labour and the difficulty of ob¬
taining rvell executed machinery, impose in the United
States great difficulties upon all mineralogical enter¬
prises. At New Brunswick in New Jersey, a copper
mine was at one time wrought, in which large quanti¬
ties of virgin copper were discovered. In particular,
in the year 1754, two lumps of virgin copper are said
to have been found, which together weighed 1900
pounds. In the course of a few years preceding,
within a quarter of a mile of New Brunswick, several
pieces of virgin copper, from five to thirty pounds
weight, in whole upwards of 200 pounds, were even
turned up in a field by the plough j but the mine has
ceased to be wrought, and the search for the metal
discontinued.
Considerable quantities of black lead are found, and
occasionally taken for use from a place called Winter-
ham, in the county of Amelia in Virginia. No work
is established there ; but those who want the mineral
go and procure it for themselves.
To the westward of the mountains some lead mines
have been found, which will probably hereafter be¬
come valuable. In the western part of the state of Vir¬
ginia, one mine has been for some time wrought by
the public. The metal is mixed sometimes with earth,
and sometimes with rock, which requires the force of
gunpowder to open it. The proportions yielded are
from 50 to 80 pounds of pure metal, from 100 pounds of
worked ore. The most common proportion is that of 60
to 100 pounds. The lead contains a portion of silver, too
small to be worth separation under any process known
to-
A M E ft I C A.
to the American workmen. The veins are at times
very flattering, anti afterwards disappear suddenly and
totally. They enter the side of the hill and proceed
horizontally. Only about 30 labourers have been em¬
ployed, and they cultivate their own corn. They have
produced 60 tons of lead in a year, but the general
quantity is from 20 to 25 tons. Lead mines are also
said to have been discovered on the upper parts of the
Mississippi, extending over a great length of country
but they are not wrought. Silver mines are also said
to have been found in the territory of NewATork, and
in the western country, particularly on the Wabash ri¬
ver; but they are too poor to be worth working. In
the territory of New York zinc has been found, and
likewise manganese, with various kinds of pyrites, and
petrified wood, plaster of Paris, talc, crystals of va¬
rious kinds and colours, asbestos, and several other
fossils ; also a small black stone, which vitrifies with
little heat, and makes good glass.—A kind of mica,
called by the Americans isinglass, has also been found,
which is transparent, and capable of being divided in¬
to thin laminae or sheets, which may be used as a con¬
venient substitute for window glass. Amethysts have
been frequently found in Virginia ; and even the eme¬
rald is not unknown. In the north mountains are
immense bodies of schist, containing impressions of
shells of various kinds. Petrified shells are also found
in very elevated situations at the first sources of the
Kentucky river. On the banks of Savannah river in
South Carolina, about 90 miles from the sea in a direct
line, and 150 or 200 as the river runs, there is a re¬
markable collection of oyster shells of an uncommon
size. They run in a north-east and south-west direc¬
tion, nearly parallel with the sea-coast, in three distinct
ridges, which together occupy a space of seven miles in
breadth. Such a phenomenon cannot easily be ac¬
counted for in any other way than by supposing the
whole of this flat country to have been at one period an
appendage of the ocean.
Sulphur is said to be found in several places of the
western territory ; and nitre is obtained, as in Spain,
the western lixiviating the fat earth that is found upon the
territory, banks of the rivers. But the most valuable mineral
that has hitherto been found in Kentucky and other
parts of the western territory, consists of the salt that
431 is obtained by the evaporation of the water of certain
Salt springs, springs. Such springs appear to be unknown to the
or icks, in eastward of the mountains ; but they abound upon the
Ohio, where they are more necessary on account of the
great distance from the sea. They were discovered in
the following curious manner:—The first inhabitants
found, that the wild beasts of the forest, especially the
buffaloes and deer, tvere accustomed to come in great
crowds to certain spots, and there to employ them¬
selves, apparently with much pleasure, in licking the
ground. On examining the soil at these places, it was
found to possess a considerable impregnation of sea salt,
of which almost all animals that feed upon vegetables
are known to be fowl. The want of this commodity
was a source of much distress to the first emigrants to
Kentucky, and w’as one of the chief obstacles to the
settlement of the country ; but the example of the in¬
ferior animals, indicated a mode of relieving their
wants. The spots frequented by the buffaloes were
called licks, and at every lick it was found that an area
430
Sulphur
and nitre
found in
432
of from five to ten acres is impregnated with common
salt; so that by digging wells salt water might be ob¬
tained, from which salt can be extracted by evapora¬
tion. At least 1 2 of these licks, or salt springs, have
been found in the new state ot Kentucky ; the princi- ^
pal of which are, Bullet’s Lick, or Salt River, 20 miles >james of
from the rapids of the Ohio; Drinnon’s Lick, about a the salt
mile and a half from the mouth ol the Kentucky. On8?1!11^-
what is called Licking Creek there are two springs,
called the Upper and Lower Blue Licks; and there is
one called Great Bone Lick, from the bones ol animals
of a monstrous size, of a species that no longer exists,
that have been found scattered in its neighbourhood.
The water obtained from these springs is by no means
so strong as sea water. It requires nearly 4C0 gallons
to make one bushel of salt, which is more by one half
than would be wanted of sea water in the same latitude
to produce that quantity. In consequence, however,
of the abundance of fuel that exists in a country where
the finest timber is still considered as a nuisance, salt
is here manufactured in plenty, and is sold tolerably
cheap, . > .433
Various springs of water impregnated with other Mineral
mineral ingredients have been found in the territory springs,
of the United States, some of which are much frequent¬
ed by valetudinarians. In 1794* a sulphureous spring
was discovered at a few yards distance from the banks
of the river Chippaway, which falls into the Niagara,
a little above the falls. On the approach of a fire¬
brand, the vapour or steam kindles, assumes the form
of burning spirit of wine, and burns down to the bot¬
tom. In the state of New York, the springs of Sara¬
toga are much noted, ffhey are eight or nine in num¬
ber, situated on the margin of a morass, about twelve
miles west from the confluence of a stream called Fish
Creek with Hudson’s river. They are surrounded by
a limestone rock, apparently formed of petrifactions de¬
posited by the water. One of the springs particularly
attracts attention : It sometimes rises above the earth
in the form of a pyramid. The aperture in the top
which discovers the water is perfectly cylindrical, about
nine inches diameter. In this the water is about twelve
inches below the top, except at its annual discharge,
which is commonly at the beginning of summer. At
all times it appears to be in as great agitation as it
boiling in a pot, although it is extremely cold. The
same appearances obtain in the other springs, except
that the surrounding rocks are ol different figures, and
the water flows regularly from them. The air which
rises in the springs, and causes the ebullition, appeax-s
to consist in part at least of carbonic acid gas, with
which the water is strongly impregnated, as well as
with lime, dissolved by the acid. It also contains a
chalybeate impregnation. In the chain of the Allegha¬
ny mountains called Laurel Bulge, about latitude $6°,
there is a spring of water 30 feet deep, very cold, and
as blue as indigo ; but the nature of the impregnation
has not been ascertained.
There is in Pennsylvania, beyond the mountains, a
stream called Oil Creek, which flows into the Alleghany
river. It issues from a spring, on the top of which
floats an oil similar to that called Barbadoes tar, ana
from which one man may gather several gallons in a
day. The troops sent to guard the western post halted
at this spring, collected some of the oil, and bathed
their T
AMERICA.
United their joints with it. This gave them great relief from
States, the rheumatic complaints with which they were aflect-
v ed. The waters, of which the troops drank freely, ope¬
rated as a gentle purge.
In the county of Augusta in Virginia, near the sources
of James’s river, are two springs, distinguished by the
appellation of Warm and Hot. They are eight miles
distant from each other, and are strongly impregnated
with sulphur. They are said to be useful for rheuma¬
tic, and some other complaints. The warm spring is¬
sues w'ith a very bold stream, sufficient to work a grist
mill, and to keep the waters of its bason, which is 30
feet in diameter, at blood heat, or 96° of Fahrenheit.
The hot spring is much smaller, and has been so hot as
to boil an egg. Some believe its degree of heat to be
lessened. It raises the mercury in Fahrenheit’s ther¬
mometer to 1120. It sometimes relieves where the
warm spring fails. A fountain of common water issu¬
ing near its margin gives it a singular appearance.
What are called the sweet springs are in the county of
Botetourt in the same state, at the eastern foot ot the
Alleghany, 42 miles from the warm springs. They are
quite cold, like common water, and their nature is lit¬
tle known ; but all the three sorts of springs are much
frequented. On the Potowmack, and on York river,
are also some springs, supposed to he medicinal j but
in favour of whose virtues little is known.
In the low grounds of the river called Great Kanha¬
way, 67 miles above the mouth, is a hole in the earth,
of the capacity of thirty or forty gallons, from which
issues constantly a bituminous vapour, in so strong a
current as to give to the sand about its orifice the mo¬
tion which it has in a boiling spring. On presenting
a lighted candle or torch within 18 inches of the hole,
it flames up in a column of 18 inches diameter, and
four or five feet in height, which sometimes burns out
within 20 minutes, and at other times has been known
to continue three days, and then has been left still
burning. The flame is unsteady, of the density of that
of burning spirits, and smells like burning pit-coal.
Water sometimes collects in the bason, which is remark¬
ably cold, and is kept in ebullition by the vapour issu¬
ing through it. If the vapour be fired in that state,
the water soon becomes so warm that the hand cannot
bear it, and evaporates wholly in a short time. On
Sandy river there is a similar hole that sends forth a
bituminous vapour, the flame of which is a column of
about twelve inches diameter and three feet high.
In the state of Geox'gia, in the county of Wilkes,
about a mile and a half from the town of Washington,
a spring rises from a hollow tree, four or five feet in
length. The inside of the tree is incrusted with a coat
of nitre an inch thick, and the leaves round the spring
are incrusted with a substance as white as snow, which
has not been analyzed. It is recommended for scurvy
and scrophulous disorders.
Vege- The vegetable kingdom in the United States of A-
tables. merica is so extremely rich, that even an enumeration
of its remarkable objects would greatly exceed the
bounds which we have here prescribed to ourselves.
Indeed, it does not appear that, excepting the sugar
cane, any valuable vegetable production is known
which cannot be reared within some part of the terri¬
tory of the states. With regard to the natural growth
of these countries, it consists of an endless variety of United
trees and shrubs, and lesser plants. Each tract of dif- States,
ferent soil is usually distinguished by its peculiar vege- v—v—
tation, and is pronounced good, middling, or bad, from
the species of trees which it produces j and one species
generally predominating in each soil, has produced the
descriptive name of Oak Land, Birch, Beech, and
Chesnut Lands, Pine Barren Land, Maple, Ash and
Cedar Swamps. Intermingled with these, which in
the New England states are the predominating species,
we find in that northern territory others, as walnut,
firs, elm, hemlock, moose wood, sassafras, and many
others. Walnut and chesnut trees indicate the best
lands j beech and oak grow upon the second $ the fir
and pitch pine upon the third j barberry and other
bushes upon lands ot the next quality ; and marshy
shrubs upon the worst. Along with these are found a
variety of flowering trees and shrubs, including all those
known in Europe. Among the fruits which grow
wild in all the states are several kinds of grapes, which
are small, sour, and thick skinned. I he vines on
which they grow are very luxuriant, and often over¬
spread the highest trees of the forest. They are ex¬
tremely tough, and possess almost the strength of cor¬
dage. On the more fertile soils, the largest trees sel¬
dom push their roots into the earth beyond the depth
of one foot, being no doubt fed by the rich mould
which is formed on the surface by the perpetual shed¬
ding of the leaves and the rotting of the grass. In the
northern states, the fragrance of the woods from flower¬
ing shrubs and trees is not so remarkable as in the
south } nor is the timber so valuable. In South Caro¬
lina, indeed, the luxuriance of the woods stands unri¬
valled. There are 18 different species of oak, parti¬
cularly the live oak, palmetto or cabbage tree, cucum-
bef tree, deciduous cypress, liquid amber, hiccory,
&q. •, in short, all the species of trees which are so ex¬
cessively dear in Europe, ten of which are planted to
save one, for which both situation and soil are careful¬
ly selected, and which yet never attain any considerable
height, are here the natural produce of the country,
and vegetate with the utmost rapidity. Equally strik¬
ing to Europeans is the pleasing luxuriance of shrubs,
plants, and various kinds of grass j most of which dif¬
fuse an exquisite fragrance.
Of the smaller vegetables, maize, or Indian corn,, is
a native of America. It agi'ees with all climates, from
the equator to latitude 450, but flourishes best between
latitudes 30® and 40°. The wild rice is a grain which
grows in great plenty in some of the interior parts of
the states, and seems the most valuable of the sponta¬
neous productions of the country. It grows in the wa¬
ter, where it is about two feet deep, with a rich muddy
bottom. In its stalk, ears, and manner of growing, it
very much resembles oats. It is gathered by the In¬
dians in the following manner : About the time that
it begins to turn from its milky state, and to ripen,
they run their canoes into the midst of it, and, tying
bunches of it together, just below the ears, they leave
it in this situation for three or four weeks, till it is per¬
fectly ripe. At the end of this time, commonly about
the last of September, they return to the river, and,
placing their canoes close to the bunches ot rice, in
such a position as to receive the grain when it falls.
111
AMERICA.
they beat It out with pieces of wood. Thereafter they
dry it with smoke, and, lastly, tread or rub off the out¬
side husk ; after which it is fit for use.
We have already enumerated the American quadru¬
peds, and have seen, that of these a considerable num¬
ber is peculiar to America. Upwards of 130 Ameri¬
can birds have been enumerated, and many of them de¬
scribed by Catesby, Jefferson, and Carver. The fol¬
lowing catalogue will show the astonishing variety that
exists in the American states, of this beautiful part of
the creation :
Blackbird.
Razor-billed do.
Baltimore bird.
Bastard Baltimore.
Blue bird.
Buzzard.
Blue jay.
Blue grosbeak.
Brown bittern.
Crested do.
Small do.
Booby.
Great booby.
Blue Peter.
Bullfinch.
Bald coot.
Cutwater.
White curlew.
Cat bird.
Cuckow.
Crow.
Cowpen bird.
Chattering plover or kil-
dee.
Crane or blue heron.
Yellow-breasted chat.
Cormorant.
Hooping crane.
Pine creeper.
Yellow-throated creeper.
Dove.
Ground dove.
Duck.
Uathera duck.
Round-crested do.
Sheldrake or canvass do.
Buffels-head do.
Spoonbill do.
Summer do.
Blackhead do.
Blue-winged shoveller.
Little brown duck.
Sprigtail.
White-faced teal.
Blue winged teal.
Pied-bill dobchick.
Eagle.
Bald eagle.
Flamingo.
Fieldfare of Carolina, or
robin.
Purple finch.
Bahama finch.
American goldfinch.
Painted finch.
Crested fly-catcher.
Black-cap do.
Little brown do.
Red-eyed do.
Finch creeper.
Storm finch.
Goatsucker of Carolina.
Gull.
Laughing gull.
Goose.
Canada goose.
Hawk.
Fishing hawk.
Pigeon do.
Night do.
Swallow-tailed do.
Hangbird.
Heron.
Little white hei’on.
Heath cock.
Humming bird.
Purple jackdaw or crow
blackbird.
King bird.
Kingfisher.
Loon.
Lark.
Large lark.
Blue linnet.
Mock bird.
Mow bird.
Purple martin.
Nightingale.
Noddy.
Nuthatch.
Oyster-catcher.
Owl.
Screech owl.
American partridge or
quail.
Pheasant or mountain par¬
tridge.
Water pheasant.
Pelican.
Water pelican.
Pigeon of passage.
White-crowned pigeon.
Parrot of paradise.
Paroquet of Carolina.
Raven.
Rice bird.
Red bird.
Summer red bird.
Swan.
Soree.
Snipe.
Redstart.
Red-winged starling.
Swallow.
Chimney do.
Snow bird.
Little sparrow.
Bahama do.
Stork.
Turkey.
Wild turkey.
Tyrant.
Crested titmouse.
Yellow do.
Bahama do.
Hooded do.
Yellow rump.
Towhe bird. United
Red thrush. States.
Fox-coloured thrush. v~‘
Little thrush.
Tropic bird.
Turtle of Carolina.
Water wagtail.
Water hen.
Water witch.
Wakon bird.
Whetsaw.
Large white-billed wood¬
pecker.
Large red-crested do.
Gold-winged do.
Red-bellied do.
Hairy do.
Red-headed do.
Yellow-bellied do.
Smallest spotted do.
Wren.
Of all these, it has been remarked, that the birds of
America generally exceed those of Europe in the beau¬
ty of their plumage j but are much inferior to them in
the melody of their notes. The buzzard, commonly ii],e tBjr_
called the turkey buzzard, from its resemblance toakeybuz»
turkey in plumage and shape, is very common all over*»rd.
South Carolina. It appears that the police of Charles¬
town is extremely deficient in those measures which
should not be neglected in a populous town, in so hot
a climate. Hence the bodies of dead animals are fre¬
quently left exposed in the neighbourhood, together
with the refuse of slaughter-houses. But the voracity
of the turkey buzzard alleviates the effects of this ne¬
gligence. It speedily devours every thing, and leaves
only the bones of any carcase that it finds. Hence it is
accounted a kind of sacred bird : no law has been en¬
acted prohibiting it to be killed ; but among the whole
inhabitants of the town, the public opinion sufficiently
protects its safety. 437
In all parts of the United States, considerable num-Awericaa
bers of snakes are found. But they are neither so,nakes“
numerous nor so venomous in the northern as in the
southern states. The following is given as a list of
them. *
Rattlesnake.
Small rattlesnake.
Yellow rattlesnake.
Water viper.
Black do.
Brown do.
Copper-bellied snake.
Bluish-green do.
Black do.
Ribbon do.
Spotted ribbon do.
Chain do.
Joint do.
Green-spotted do.
Coachwhip do.
Corn snake.
Hognose do.
House do.
Green do.
Wampum do.
Glass do.
Bead do.
Wall or house adder.
Striped or garter snake.
Water do.
Hissing do.
Thorn-tailed do.
Speckled do.
Ring do.
Two-headed do.
438
The joint snake is a curiosity. Its skin is as hard as The joint
parchment, and as smooth as glass. It is beautifully make.
striped
112
AMERICA.
459
Rattle¬
snake.
44-
Insects.
„ 441
Sees.
strlpeil with black and white. Its joints are so few
and stiff, that it can hardly bend itself into the form
of a hoop. When struck, it breaks like a pipe s stem,
and with a whip it may be broken from the tail to the
bowels into pieces not an inch long, without produ¬
cing the least tincture of blood. It is not venomous.
It is not known whether the two-headed snake be a
distinct species, or only a monstrous production, very
few of them having ever been seen. But of all the
American snakes, the rattlesnake is the chief, as be¬
ing the most frequent and the most dangerous. It is a
peaceful animal, however, and never bites but on being
irritated. In the northern states it is little regarded,
and its bite seems not to be fatal. “ We found (says
the duke de la Rochefoucault Liancourt), a young
man, who, about six weeks before, had been bitten on
the knee by a rattlesnake, while he was fishing on
the banks of Lake Cauandaqua. At first he did not
feel much pain in the part affected ; but an hour after¬
wards a swelling appeared, which gradually extended
all along the leg to the foot, and both became so stiff
that he was unable to move them. A cure was effect¬
ed within the space of only six days by the juice of
snake root laid on the wound and swelling, as a poul¬
tice, mixed with milk, together with a few drops of
that juice, pure and unmixed, taken internally. In¬
stances of such bites occur but very seldom, and only,
it seems, when the animal has been touched j othei-
wise it constantly retires, and may be killed by a blow
with the slenderest stick.” But in the southern states,
particularly in South Carolina, the inhabitants are more
afraid of these animals than in New York or Pennsyl¬
vania ; as instances are known in that southern climate
of people having died a quarter of an hour after they
were bitten by the rattlesnake. The juice oiplantago
Virginiana, Linn, or the root and branches of mahuba
bruised, are the remedies most commonly applied. Ei¬
ther of these plants is sufficient j but they are deemed
more efficacious when they are applied jointly. A to¬
bacco leaf, steeped in rum, or a single leaf of one of
the above plants, takes off the pain and swelling. Cse-
sar, a negro, discovered this cure in South Carolina \
he proved its efficacy to the assembly of the states, in
1780, by causing a rattlesnake to bite him j and ob¬
tained for this arcanum his liberty, and a pension of
IOO guineas a-year.
An astonishing variety of insects is found in the Uni¬
ted States. Of these, during the summer, the musketo
is the most troublesome. In the back parts of the state
of New York, the lands are frequently visited by a
species of locusts which fix chiefly on the trees and
consume the leaves. They are so extremely numerous,
that every attempt to destroy or remove them is appa¬
rently fruitless. Flies, likewise, in moist situations,
are very troublesome, being found in such prodigious
swarms, especially about noon, that the farmers are
obliged to keep large fires burning near their houses,
where the cattle find shelter from these tormenting in¬
sects till the cool of the evening, when the latter dis¬
appear, and retire into the woods.
Bees are found in the woods in swarms, which pro¬
duce large quantities of honey, of different qualities,
according to the kinds of flowering shrubs and plants
that prevail in the neighbourhood. It is said, how¬
ever, that this valuable insect is most usually found in
the vicinity of cultivated places, where a part at least United
of the timber has been cut down, and that hence, States,
when the savages perceive a swarm of bees, they say,—\r—*J
that it is time for them to remove, as the approaches
of cultivation not only bring white men, who are al¬
ways in some measure their enemies, but also tend to
narrow their hunting grounds. The planters not only
rear enough of bees to supply themselves with honey of
an excellent quality, but considerable quantities are
brought to the coast for exportation. 442
An account has been given by an American phy-Poisonous
sician, Dr Benjamin Smith Barton, of a poisonous or ,
injurious kind of honey collected by bees in the terri- * '
tory of the United States, which is, perhaps, worthy March
of attention both for philosophical and for commercial 1802.
reasons. “ The honey which I call deleterious (says he)
or poisonous honey, produces, as far as I have learned,
the following symptoms, viz. In the beginning a dim¬
ness of sight, or vertigo succeeded by a delirium, which
is sometimes mild and pleasant, and sometimes ferocious,
ebriety, pain in the stomach and intestines, profuse per¬
spiration, foaming at the mouth, vomiting and pur¬
ging, and, in a few instances, death. In some persons
a vomiting is the first effect of the poison. When this
is the case, it is probable that the persons suffer much
less from the honey than when no vomiting is induced.
Sometimes the honey has been observed to produce a
temporary palsy of the limbs : an effect which I have
remarked in animals that have eaten of one of those
very vegetables, the kalmia latifolia, from whose
flowers the bees obtain a pernicious honey. Death is
very seldom the consequence of eating this kind of
honey. The violent impression which it makes upon the
stomach and intestines often induces an early vomit¬
ing or purging, which are both favourable to the speedy
recovery of the patient. The fever which it excites
is frequently relieved, in a short time, by the profuse
perspiration, and perhaps by the foaming at the mouth.
I may add, that, as the human constitution resists to an
astonishing degree the effects of the narcotic or other
poisonous vegetables that are best known to us, so we
need not wonder, that it also resists the effects of the
deletex-ious honey that is produced from such vege¬
tables.
“ It deserves to be mentioned, that the honey which
is formed by two different hives of bees in the same
tree, or at a little distance from each other, often pos¬
sesses the most opposite properties. Nay, the honey
from the same individual combs is sometimes not less
different in taste, in colour, and in its effects. Thus
one stratum or portion of it may be eaten without the
least inconvenience, whilst that which is immediately
adjacent to it shall occasion the several effects which I
have just enumerated. I have taken some pains to
learn what are the signs by which the deleterious ho¬
ney may at first view be distinguished from innocent
honey. I am informed that there is no difficulty in
the matter.
“ The poisonous honey is said by some to be of a
crimson colour ; by others, it is said to be of a reddish
brown colour, and of a thicker consistence than com¬
mon innocent honey. These are the signs by which
I am told the most experienced hunters in the southern
parts of North America are enabled to distinguish per¬
nicious from innocent honey.”
Dr
AMERICA. ii3
United Dr Barton, however, justly doubts the infallibility
States, of these signs, so far as they depend upon the colour of
“^v'^the honey, as Mr Bruce found honey red like blood
at Dixan in Abyssinia, which he does not say was poi¬
sonous ; and the honey collected in Scotland from the
flowers of the erica, or blooming heather, is usually of
a dirty brown colour, though it was never known to
possess any noxious property. He proceeds to state,
that a friend of his, Mr YVilliam Bertram, who has
written upon the natural productions of North Ame¬
rica, informed him, that “ in the Carolinas and Flori-
das the poisonous honey is often so similar in colour,
taste, and odour, to the common or innocent honey,
that the former cannot be distinguished from the lat¬
ter. It is owing, he says, to this circumstance, that so
many accidents daily happen from the use of the wild
honey. He was informed, that it is experience alone
which enables the hunters and others to determine
whether the honey which they find in the woods be
poisonous or innocent. They have observed that the
injurious eftects manifest themselves in a short time
after the honey is taken into the stomach. They are
accustomed, therefore, to eat a small quantity before
they venture to satisfy their appetite. Should this
produce any disagreeable effect, they do not think it
prudent to continue the use of it: but, if in a short
time it should occasion no inconvenience, they think
they may, with perfect safety, indulge their appetite to
the full.
“ I have been informed, that the poisonous honey,
by boiling and straining, may be rendered as innocent
as any honey whatever. It is likewise said, that, by
long keeping, it becomes harmless. It is poisonous to
dogs as well as to men. Hitherto I have not been
able to obtain any certain information concerning the
means to be pursued in the treatment of persons la¬
bouring under the effects of the poisonous honey. It
is said, that the Indians and some of the whites use
cold bathing with advantage. As the effects produ¬
ced by this honey qre similar to those produced by se¬
veral narcotic vegetables that are well known to us,
such as opium, hyosciamus niger or henbane, datura
stramonium or thorn-apple, &c. it is probable that
the same means of treatment will apply to both cases.
In South Carolina, Georgia, and the two Floridas, but
more especially in East Florida, the instances of injury
from the eating of wild honey are more numerous than
in any other parts of North America that are known
to us. There is a tract of country, included between
the rivers St Ilia and St Mary’s in East Florida, that
is remarkable for immense numbers of bees. These in¬
sects, which were originally introduced into Florida by
the Spaniards, have increased into innumerable swarms,
from the facility with which they procure their food,
in, perhaps, the richest flowered country of North A-
merica. In this tract of country the alarming effects
ol the wild honey are often experienced by the settlers,
by wandering hunters, and by savages.
“ It is highly probable that this poisonous honey is
procured from a considerable number of the flowers of
the countries which I have mentioned. A complete
list of these flowers would be acceptable ; but such a
list it will be difficult to procure at present. Meanwhile
I am happy to have it in my power to mention some of
the vegetables from whose flowers the bees extract a de-
Vol. II. Part I. -f-
leterious honey, not only in the country between the United
St Ilia and St Mary’s, but also in some other parts of States.
North America. These vegetables are the kalmia v
angustifolia and latifolia of Einnseus, the kalmia hirsuta Flora Ca-
of Walter, the andromeda mariana, and some other ralumina,
species of this genus. 1*'
“ Every American has heard of the poisonous pro¬
perties of the kalmia angusiifolia and latifolia. The
former of these plants is known in the United States
by the names of diuarf laurel, ivy, lambkill, &c. It
has long been known that its leaves, when eaten by
sheep, prove fatal to them. The following fact like¬
wise will shew, that the flowers also are endued with
a poisonous property. About 20 years since, a party
of young men, solicited by the prospect of grain, moved
with a few hives of bees from Pennsylvania into the
Jerseys. They were induced to believe, that the sa¬
vannahs of this latter country w'ere very favourable
to the increase of their bees, and consequently to the
making of honey. They accordingly placed their
hives in the midst of these savannahs, wjiich were finely
painted with the flowers of the kalmia angustifolia.
The bees increased prodigiously ; and it was evident,
that the principal part of the honey which they made
was obtained from the flowers of the plant which I have
just mentioned. I cannot learn that there was any
thing uncommon in the appearance of the honey ; but
all the adventurers, who ate of it, became intoxicated
to a great degree. From this experiment they were
sensible that it would not be prudent to sell their ho¬
ney j but unwilling to lose all their labour, they made
the honey into the drink well known by the name of
metheglin, supposing that the intoxicating quality, which
had resided in the honey, would be lost in the metheg¬
lin. In this respect, however, they were mistaken :
the drink also intoxicated them, after which they re¬
moved their hives. In North Carolina, this species of
kalmia, and the andromeda mariana, are supposed to be
the principal vegetables from which the bees prepare
the poisonous honey that is common in that part of the
United States.
“ The kalmia latifolia, known in the United States
by the names of laurel, great laurel, winter green, spoon
haunch, spoon wood, &c. is also a poison. Its leaves
indeed are eaten with impunity by the deer, and by
the round-horned elk j but they are poisonous to sheep,
to horned cattle, and to horses. In the former of these
animals they produce convulsions, foaming at the
mouths, and death. Many of General Braddock’s
horses were destroyed by eating the leaves and the
twigs of this shrub in the month of June 1755, a few
days before this unfortunate general’s defeat and death.
In the severe winter of the years 1790 and 1791,
there appeared to be such unequivocal reasons for be¬
lieving that several persons in Philadelphia had died
in consequence of their having eaten our pheasant, in
whose crops the leaves and buds of the kalmia latifolia
were found, that the mayor of the city thought it pru¬
dent, and his duty, to warn the people against the use
of this bird by a public proclamation. I know, that
by many persons, especially by some lovers of pheasant
flesh, the circumstance just mentioned was supposed to be
destitute of foundation : but the foundation was a solid
one. This might be shown by several well authenti¬
cated facts. It is sufficient for my present purpose to
P observe,
$
AMERICA.
114
United observe, that the collection of a deleterious honey from
States, the Howers of this species of kalmia gives some counte-
v"~ v— nance to the opinion, that the flesh of pheasants that
had eaten the leaves and the buds ot this plant may
have been impregnated with a pernicious quality.
« In Georgia and Florida the kalmia hirsuta is
supposed to be the principal vegetable from which the
deleterious honey in those parts of our continent is
procured. T lie andromeda manana or broad-leaved
moorwort, is a very common plant in many parts of
North America. The leaves are poisonous to sheep.
The petioli or footstalks of the leaves, and the seeds
within the seed-vessel, are covered with a brown powder
similar to that of the kalmia. This powder, applied to
the nostrils, occasions violent sneezing. From the
flowers of this plant the bees extract considerable
quantities of honey ; and it deserves to be mentioned,
that this honey, as well as that obtained from some
other American species of andromeda, has frequently
the very smell of the flowers from which it is obtain¬
ed,”
In addition to the above plants, from whose flowers
the bees are known to obtain poisonous honey, the same
writer mentions some others which are suspected to be
dangerous, as the rhododendron maximum or Pennsyl¬
vania mountain laurel. The seeds of this plant and
the footstalks of the leaves are covered, like some, ot
the andromedm and kalmise, with a brown powder which
excites sneezing*, and, it is singular, that Dioscorides
mentions sneezing as one of the symptoms produced
by honey made about Heraclea Pontica. The a%alea
W^oro, called in the United States the wild honey¬
suckle, is also suspected of producing poisonous honey.
A species of this genus, the azalea pontica of Linnaeus,
is supposed to be the ogolethron of Pliny, who men¬
tions it as the plant from which the poisonous honey
about Heraclea Pontica is prepared. The datura
stramonium, called in America James-town weed, gym-
sin, stink-weed, or French chesnut, produces in the tube
of its flower a considerable quantity of honey, which
is suspected to be of a bad quality } because the plant
itself is known to possess poisonous properties. Upon
the whole, from what is known upon the subject in
America, Dr Barton is led to suspect, that every flower
that is poisonous to man may produce a honey injurious
to man, since the properties of the fluid are so dependent
upon the properties of the plant from which it is pro¬
duced. Hence he thinks, that there is more of poetry
than philosophy in the following lines of Pope.
In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true,
From poisonous herbs extracts the healing dew ?
Essay on Man.
443 The kaiman, a species of the alligator or crocodile,
The kai- ;s a|so found in the southern rivers of the United States.
,®an' Some of the kaimans are of so monstrous a size as to ex¬
ceed five yards in length. They devour all living ani¬
mals that they can catch. They are fond of the flesh
of hogs and dogs. When basking on the shore, they
keep their huge mouths wide open, till they are filled
with musquetoes, flies, and other insects $ when they
suddenly shut their jaws, and swallow their prey. They
are great destroyers of fish in the rivers and creeks,
which they catch with the same address. Eight or ten
of them lie at the mouth of the river or creek, whilst
others go to a distance up the river, and chase the fish United
downwards j by which means, none of any bigness es- States,
cape them. They are said, however, to remain torpid v~-
during the winter in dens which they find in the banks
of the rivers, having previously swallowed a large num¬
ber of pine knots, which forms their only sustenance
till the period of their revival or wakening. The kai¬
man seldom touches a man, however near it may lie
to him. It constantly flees when at land; but in the
water it is fiercer, and has been known to bite off the
leg of a person bathing. It more frequently attacks
dogs. Sometimes when hounds, in pursuit of a stag,
swim through the water, the kaimans seize both hounds
and deer, and pull them down to the bottom without
their ever appearing again. The scales with which they
are coated render them invulnerable, unless the wound
be inflicted in the insterstices of the scales, or at the ex¬
tremities.
The climate of the great territory belonging to the CIin,a4,^
United States, must necessarily be various, in conse¬
quence of the difference of latitude and soil that takes
place in it. The snow covers Vermont and the pro¬
vince of Maine, during five or six months of the year j
and the winter there lasts seven months, wdiile there is
hardly any winter in South Carolina, and still less in
Georgia. Should any snow fall in the latter of these
states, it does not remain two days upon the ground.
The sudden variation of temperature which frequently
occurs, is the most remarkable characteristic ot the cli¬
mate of the wdiole states. It is usual to see the ther¬
mometer rise or fall 250 of Fahrenheit’s scale in 24
hours. In April 1796, it fell in 12 hours from the
77th degree of Fahrenheit to 44^°, and this observation
was made at Wilmington in Delaware, and in Balti¬
more. The river Delaware at Philadelphia, three miles
in breadth, is sometimes frozen over in one night, and
the same thing occurs in all the rivers of V irginia
and to the northward. The seasons, in the United
States, are only three : summer, winter, and autumn,
or what the Americans more expressively call the fall,
from the falling of the leaves in the forests. The trans¬
ition, from the locking up of all vegetation in winter
to the sudden burst of it again to life at the beginning
of summer, is so rapid as utterly to exclude that progres¬
sive and delightful season, which, in the more moderate
climate of Europe, receives the appellation of spring.
Within a week or ten days after the melting ot the
snow, the woods and orchards are in full bloom.
Both the heat and cold are more intense in Ame¬
rica than in Europe. The frost is stronger and more
durable. The sunshine is more ardent and perma¬
nent, and the heat is far more oppressive and insup¬
portable. It may be remarked, that in the different
latitudes of the United States, the heat differs more in
its duration than in its power. In 1795 at Newark,
on the frontiers of Upper Canada, the duke de la.
Kochefoucault Liancourt saw the thermometer of Fah¬
renheit rise in July to 920. In the month of Au¬
gust the same year he saw it at 96° at Albany in the
state of New York. At Savannah in Georgia, it sel¬
dom rises above that height j though from Newark
or Albany, to Savannah, there is a difference of 140
of latitude. But the thermometer remains during a
month or two at Savannah at this height, and very sel¬
dom two days together in the northern states. The
following
AMERICA.
US
United following remarks anti facts, relative to the climate and
stale*, seasons in America and Europe, are given by Dr Holy
—    0ke of Salem in the state of Massachusets; and com¬
pletely demonstrate the intenseness both of the heat and
the cold that are experienced in the most northerly
states of the American union.
“ The following table exhibits the mean or medium
degree of greatest heat and cold by Fahrenheit’s ther¬
mometer :
Stockholm
Copenhagen
Berlin
Mons
Prague
Wurtzburg
Manheim
Ratisbon
Ruda
Geneva
Rochelle
Padua
Marseilles
Rome
Salem in Massa¬
chusets
1
Uat.
north.
59° 20'
55 4°
52 S2
50 25
50 4
49 46
49 27
48 56
47 40
46 12
46 o
45 22
43 *7
4* 53
42 31
Mean of Mean of
gr. heat gr. cold.
83.98 IO.I96
81.77 2.98a
89.37 0.62a
89.15 I.lSa
92.7 12.776
93.87 4.6
89.6 I.2a
79.7 2.426
90.7 4.26a
88.9 I0.2a
9°*5 I9*93a
91.4 16.93a
89.6 27.5a
85'43 33*46a
97.2 2.426
“ These European cities, except Rome, are all north
of the latitude of Salem. But in the whole middle region
of Europe, which is from 7 to 10 degrees north of Sa¬
lem, the heat in summer and cold in winter are, on an
average, less than at Salem by a difference of 5, 8, and
10 degrees. Comparing the temperature of the Eu¬
ropean atmosphere under nearly the same parallel ot
latitude with Salem, viz. at Rome, Padua, and Mar¬
seilles, it is found that the mean of greatest heat in
Europe falls short of ours by 8 degrees, and the mean
of greatest cold by more than 30 degrees. It is also
found, by observations made at different times and
places, that in America there falls a greater quantity
of rain annually than in Europe $ we have notwith¬
standing more fair weather, and fewer cloudy, foggy,
and rainy days. The medium quantity of rain that
falls yearly in Europe does not exceed 30 inches of wa¬
ter, whereas in America the medium quantity is at least
50 inches.
“ The mean number of fair days, according to ob¬
servations made in 20 cities of Europe, amounts only
to 64. Several observations in America make the
mean number of fair days to be about 130. The mean
number of cloudy days in the same cities of Europe
(all which are upon the continent) was, in- ijSf, 113
in America there are about 80 or 90. The number
of rainy days in the same cities was, on a mean, I22j
the number in America is 85 or 90. These facts seem
to prove that the atmosphere of Europe is more humid
than that in America ; and this may be one cause why
the European climate is more temperate under the same
parallels of latitude, and less subject to extremes of heat
and cold.
“ The following facts concerning the temperature
of our own climate are extremely curious. From ob¬
servations made at four different hours in the day for
seven years, it is found that the mercury in Fahrenheit
rose to 8o° and upwards.
United
States.
In 1786.
Days.
June 13
July 11
Aug. 8
Sept. 2
Oct. 1
35
In 1789.
Days.
May 1
June 12
July 13
Aug. 11
Sept. I
In 1787.
Days.
June 10
July 13
Aug. 13
Sept. 2
38
In 1790.
Days.
May I
June 5
July 14
Aug. 7
Sept. 2
In 1788.
Days.
June 5
July 13
Aug. 8
Sept. I
27
In 1791.
Dajs.
May 7
June 15
July 16
Aug. 15
Sept. 1
Oct. 1
In 1792.
Days.
May
June
July
Aug.
Sept.
7
10
15
10
2
38
29
55
44
The thermometer was at and above 90°,
In 1786, 4 days 1790, 2 days.
1787, 2 do. 1791, 12 do.
1788, 1 do. 1792, 8 do.
1789, 4 do.
During the same years in winter, the thermometer
was at and below 3 2°, the freezing point j
In 1786, 108 days, and below O, 4 days.
1787, Hi do. do. 4 do.
1788, 108 do. do. 6 do.
1789, 105 do. do. 3 do.
1790, 119 do. do. 5 do.
1791, HI do. do. I do.
1792, 102 do. do. 3 do.
The mean of the mean temperature of each month
during the seven years is as follows :
Jan. 24.8 tenths July 71.
Feb. 25. Aug. 69.7
Mar. 36. Sept. 61.
April 45. Oct. 49.5
May 56.8 Nov. 40.
June 67. Dec. 27.
Mean temperature of each season.
Winter. Spring. Summer.
1786, 25°7 45°9 70°6
1787, 25.8 45.7 68.1
1788, 25.5 45.2 68.9
1789, 24.9 43.9 70.2
1790, 29.2 43.6 67.9
1791, 23.3 48.6 71.0
1792, 25.5 49.4 68.7
Total mean temperature of each year:
1786,
1787,
1788,
1789,
48°53
47.88
47.67
47.68
1790,
I791*
1792,
Autumn.
50°9
5°*3
52.1
49*5
49*5
49.0
51*3
46°43
48.96
48.44
Total mean temperature of the seven years, 47*94*
P 2 As
116 A M E R
United As the observations in the morning were not made at
States, sunrise, but at eight o’clock, Dr Holyoke supposes a
J small abatement must be made 5 and the mean tempe¬
rature of the seven years fixed at 47-J.
Mean temperature at the time of each observation :
At eight o’clock A. M. 46.55.
At noon, - - - 54-15-
Sunset, ... 47.60.
At ten o’clock P. M. - 43-7-
“ Whence it appears that the mean temperature of
the day is at sunset, and that the temperature of the
month of April is very little below the mean tempera¬
ture of the year.”
The very great variations of climate here indicated
are said not to extend themselves in an equal degree
beyond the tract of the Alleghany mountains ; so that
in the same latitude the climate is much more mild up¬
on the banks of the Obio than on the shores of the At¬
lantic ocean. As that part of the country, however, is
yet less inhabited, or has only been so for a short period,
very few authentic documents have reached us concern¬
ing it.
Effect of The extremes of heat and cold which so rapidly suc-
the climate ceed each other in America at difl’erent seasons, and
on the in- which persevere so steadily when they are once be-
bubitants. gUllj (l0 not fai| to affect very sensibly the health of
the inhabitants of the United States. In general,
people become old in America sooner than in Europe.
In the more northern parts of the country, that is, in
the New England States, and also near the mountains,
this is less sensibly the case 5 but excepting in these
situations, it is more rare to see men of a great age
there than in Europe. The influence of the climate
upon females is still more sensible. When young, they
are generally beautiful, and more particularly so at
Philadelphia, and in the other middle states. But
after 20 years of age they soon begin to lose their fresh
colour. At 25, many of them might be taken for
Europeans of 40 ; as their bloom is faded, and their
form has already suffered a change. If they have pre¬
viously been mothers, which in this rising countxy is
usually the case, their alteration is still more premature.
Yet, it is admitted, that neither nightly revels, the
abuse of spirituous liquors, the want of exercise, nor an
excess of it, can be brought tft account for this early
change. In the northern states, the period of their
beauty is indeed lengthened, but only for a few' years.
Whereas, in the southern states it is shortened. In
South Carolina, at the age of 30, a woman appears old;
and both men and women soon lose the bloom of
youth, and feel the infirmities of age. At the age of
50, in that exhausting climate, the hair becomes en¬
tirely white. The number of children that die in
their infancy is said to be proportionally much greater
than in Europe; though this does not prevent the po¬
pulation from advancing with nearly twenty times the
rapidity that it does with us. Colds, hooping-coughs,
and disorders of the throat, carry off great numbers of
children. The most common mortal diseases in all the
states are dropsies of the chest, consumptions, and bili¬
ous and putrid fevers. Of diseases that are not mor¬
tal, the most frequent of all is the ague or intermitting
I C A.
fever, which, however, sometimes degenerates into a United
bilious fever. These intermitting fevers are undoubted- States,
ly the result of a climate abounding in moisture, arising
from immense rivers, swamps, and forests, acted upon
by the intense heat of a burning sun. In such a situa¬
tion the human strength is exhausted, so as to be at all
times liable to fall into this simplest and least danger¬
ous form of fever. Though it is experienced by al¬
most every stranger, and at times by most of the na¬
tives, it is Seldom hazardous; but at the same time it
undoubtedly enfeebles the constitution, and prepares it
for sinking under other diseases. It is always towards
the end of summer, when the heat is most intense, and
the health of the people most weakened by the hot
and moist climate of America, that the dreadful dis¬
ease, the yellow fever, makes its appearance. It thus
comes at a period when intermittent fevers at all times
abound ; and the extreme mortality which it produces
is probably to be accounted for, not less from the state
of debility and relaxation with regard to general
health, than from any peculiar malignity of the dis¬
temper, which never fails to yield to the restorative
and strengthening power of a few frosty days, or even
of rainy. It is a singular circumstance, that of the
great number of French who were in Philadelphia
during the different periods at which it was desolated
by this fatal scourge, sometimes none, and never more
than four or five in a season, suffered by the yellow
fever, though none of them deserted the city on that
occasion. The only plausible, though probably inade¬
quate, account winch has ever been given of the cause
of their escaping that calamity, is their habitual ab¬
stinence from spirituous liquors ; in the use of which
the Americans of all ranks, that is the men, not the
women, indulge very freely, and thereby no doubt in¬
crease the degree of debility which the climate has a
tendency to produce, and consequently expose them¬
selves in a greater degree to the influence of any conta¬
gious distemper. Under all its disadvantages, however,
the climate of America allows the full exertion and
enjoyment of all the human faculties. Men of sound
constitutions in every part of it attain to old age. Even
in South Carolina in 1787, of the 9600 white inhabi¬
tants of Charlestown 200 were above 60 years ; and in
the New England states instances of great longivity
abound. ^
Till the late war the manufactures carried on in AmericaH
the United States were very few. A year seldom passed *nami!ac-
away without attempts being made by individuals toturc£‘
establish cotton-works, glass-houses, and other extensive
manufactories, but without success. Sometimes particu¬
lar states assist in the most liberal manner, with the pub¬
lic money, the undertakers of these plans ; but the mo¬
ney is soon spent, and the work obliged to be dropped.
rI he reason is obvious. In the European nations, men
and women abound, and the lower classes are, therefore,
under the necessity of giving their industry, and the
result of their skill, for little more than what is barely
sufficient to afford them subsistence. In America the
case is different. Men are lew, the soil is fertile and un¬
occupied, and subsistence is easily procured. Every man
aspires, therefore, to the possession of something beyond
the gratification ot his present wants, or the mere neces¬
saries of life. He endeavours to become independent,
by obtaining and cultivating a portion of the soil for
his
AMERICA. 117
United His own use. To withdraw him from an enterprise of
States, this kind, which is so flattering to the passions of ail
—v  men, a large reward is necessary, or, in other words,
if an ordinary tradesman in America do not receive
high wages, lie will go to the woods, and settle as a
farmer, or small proprietor, which in that country he
can do upon easy terms. Hence it happens, that the
manufacturers of Europe find it easy to undersell all
those who attempt to rival them in America. Even,
when a skilful European manufacturer conveys his ca¬
pital and his tools across the Atlantic, the case is not
altered. His servants and labourers must he carried
along with him. Supposing this difficulty to be sur¬
mounted, he must immediately give them three times
the wages that they'received in Europe, or they w’ill
not remain in his service, as they can easily obtain such
a price for their industry there. In consequence of high
wages, they are enabled, in a year or two, to accumu¬
late enough of money to enable them to purchase or
obtain credit for a small farm, in a fertile though re¬
mote part of the country. They never fail, therefore,
speedily to desert the business to which they were ori¬
ginally educated, and to betake themselves to agricul¬
ture, which, from the independence it affords, is of all
occupations the most grateful to the human mind. Thus,
any great manufacture carried on in America, could
only be supported by a succession of emigrant work¬
men, receiving exorbitant wages, and having the pro¬
spect of immediately deserting it j a situation, in which
it evidently could not prosper. Hence, to a very re¬
mote period, that is, till land shall become scarce and
precious, in consequence of an overflowing population,
the United States of America must chiefly depend up¬
on Europe for their most valuable manufactures. Nei¬
ther is this a misfortune to America. Men there, as
elsewhere, in following out their own private intents,
contribute most effectually to advance the prosperity of
their country. Agriculture is there pursued because it
is the most profitable of all employments to those who
engage in it, and leads them most rapidly to the pos¬
session of property and independence •, at the same time,
by providing in abundance the means of subsistence, it
facilitates to the community the acquisition of what
chiefly it wants, a numerous population, which, by the
natural progress of things, will ultimately bring in its
train the cultivation of all the arts.
The Americans, however, are not destitute ol a con¬
siderable variety of such manufactures, as their peculiar
situation has naturally led them to establish. We have
alreadf mentioned, the manufacture of iron from the
ore, which they practise in several situations to the
eastward of the mountains, though not to such extent
as to supply the wants of their country. They also
tan leather, which thev are induced to do from the
abundance of oak-bark that they possess j and they
manufacture hats in considerable quantities. They have
distilleries for the preparation of spirituous liquors, and
of late they have spinning machinery to a considerable
extent. Tradesmen in the towns, and private families
in remote situations, prepare soap, candles, and malt
liquors. In the remoter districts, the women also pre¬
pare a considerable part of the clothing of their fami¬
lies. Upon the rivers, great numbers of saw mills are
erected, for the purpose of converting to profit, the
timber, which they are under the necessity of cutting United
down, before the lands can be brought into cultrva- States,
tion. Connected with this operation, of clearing the ——v—“
land of timber, is the preparation of pot and pearl ashes.
As this forms a considerable branch of the trade ot
many American towns, the hack country of which has
been recently settled, we shall here state the mode ot
preparing this salt, which has been generally adopted. ^
Large tubs with a double bottom are filled with the Potash
ashes of wood : the uppermost bottom, which contains
several holes, is covered with ashes, about 10 or 11
inches deep, while the under part of the tub is filled
with straw or hay. Water being poured over the ashes
extracts the particles of salt, and discharges all the he¬
terogeneous matter which it may yet contain on the
layer of hay or straw. The ley is drawn oft by means
of a cock, and if it should not yet have attained a suf¬
ficient degree of strength, poured again over the same
or over fresh ashes. The ley is deemed sufficiently
strong when an egg swims on it. This ley is after¬
wards boiled in large iron caldrons, which are con¬
stantly filled out of ether caldrons, in which ley is
likewise boiling. If the ley begins to thicken in the
caldron, no fresh ley is added, but the fire is well fed
with fuel until all the aqueous particles are separated,
and the whole is completely inspissated and indurated.
This salt is of a black colour, and called black potash.
Some manufacturers leave the potash in this state in
the caldron, and increase the fire, by means of which
the oil is disengaged from the salt in a thick smoke,
and the black potash assumes a gray colour, in which
state it is packed up in the barrels for sale.
The process of preparing the potash requires more
or less time according to the quality of the ashes and
the ley, and to the degree of strength of the latter :
the medium time is 24 hours. The ashes of green
wood, and especially of oak, are preferred. No potash
can he prepared from the ashes of resinous trees, and
ashes which are five or six months old are better than
those that are new.
Some manufacturers use only one caldron for boil¬
ing, which they fill with cold ley as it comes from the
tubs, and others put the salt, as soon as it begins to
coagulate, into smaller caldrons to complete the pro¬
cess.
In many parts of the state of New York, especially
in the north, and the vicinity of Albany, the inhabi¬
tants who fell the wood prepare the potash. But
there are also large manufactories, where from 30 to
40 tubs are used for preparing the ley, and from 10 to
12 caldrons for its evaporation. The manufacturers
buy the ashes from private families. The tubs and
caldrons are of different sizes, in proportion to the
gi eater or less extent of the manufactory. By a gene¬
ral estimate, from five to six hundred bushels of ashes
yield a ton of potash.
The barrels in which the potash is packed up, must
be made of white oak, or, if this cannot be had, of
wood which is but little porous. The staves ought to
be far more durable than for casks in which other
dry goods are packed, the hoops also must be more
numerous j for the least fissure would expose the potr
ash to humidity, to the air, and consequently to deli¬
quescence and dissolution. Instances have occurred,
when
113
AMERICA.
U aited
htatc*.
44s
Pearl-ashes.
449
Maple
sugar.
when barrels badly made and hooped, and which had
been filled with potash, were soon after found to be half
empty.
Pearl-ash is well known to be potash purified by cal¬
cination. To this end the potash is put into a kiln,
constructed in an oval form, of plaster of Paris } the
inside of which being made otherwise perfectly close,
is horizontally intersected by an iron grate, on which
the potash is placed. Under this grate a fire is made j
and the heat reverberated by the arched upper part of
the kiln, completes the calcination, and converts the
potash into pearl-ash, which is taken out of the kiln,
and, when completely cooled, packed in barrels. I he
process of calcination lasts about an hour. Pearl-ash is
proportionally more heavy than potash, on account of
its greater compactness, and the loss of weight experi¬
enced by the latter, though the calcination is very
trilling. Although pearl-ash is less liable to deliquesce
by the air than potash, yet the barrels in which it is
packed are of the same sort and structure with those in
which the latter salt is barrelled. They are of differ¬
ent sizes, and contain from 200 to 300 pounds. Pot¬
ash as well as pearl-ash is sold by tons in the course
of trade ; and it is not lawful to export either before
it is duly inspected by the public searchers, who are ap¬
pointed for this purpose in all the states where pearl or
potash is manufactured.
The manufacture of sugar from the maple tree,
acer sa-ccharinum Linn, called by the Indians o%eketa,
is peculiar to the United States of America. The
whole country to the northward of Pennsylvania a-
bounds with these trees, and also to the southward up¬
on approaching the mountains. In the western terri¬
tory they everywhere abound. Very considerable
quantities of sugar are made from them ; so as to af¬
ford to the inhabitants an abundant supply of that va¬
luable commodity. The medium produce of a tree
standing in the midst of a wood, is three pounds of su¬
gar. The average produce of trees standing on ground
which has been cleared of all other woods, is Irom six
to seven pounds per tree. A barrel of the first juice
which comes from the maple tx-ee will yield seven
pounds of sugar, and four if it stand in the midst of
other wood. The ordinary price of this sugar is is.
per pound. A barrel of the second juice will yield
three gallons and a half of treacle. Four or five bar¬
rels of the third juice will yield one barrel of a good
and pleasant vinegar. The vinegar is found to be bet¬
ter in proportion as the juice is more concentrated by
boiling. Hence some persons brew but one barrel of
vinegar from 10 barrels of the third juice. To clari¬
fy this vinegar it must be boiled with leaves. The
third juice, when not used for vinegar, yields, if mix¬
ed with an equal quantity of water, a fermented li¬
quor of an excellent flavour. The longer the first
juice is boiled, the better and finer the sugar becomes.
In order that the trees may continue productive, they
require to be tapped with extraordinai'y care, that is,
the fissures or wounds made in them for extracting the
juice, must neither be too deep nor too wide ; so that
no water may settle in them, and that the wood may
close again in the space of a twelvemonth. During
the time the juice is flowing out, which lasts about six
weeks, and generally begins about the commencement
of the month of February, all the days on which it Unit«d
freezes or rains are lost; so that the number of days on states,
which the business can be pursued to advantage, is fie- --v'—^
quently from these circumstances much diminished.
Yet during the above time, two persons can often
make from 500 to 600 pounds of good sugar, and this
quantity is increased in pi-oportion to the number of
workmen employed. Since 1812 they have made great
progress in the cultivation of the cane, particularly in
Louisiana and Georgia. It has been stated, that six¬
teen million of pounds of sugai-, from the cane, were
produced in Louisiana in 1814.
Ship-building is an art much practised in the north- ship-build-
ern states upon the sea coast. The Americans are un- ing.
derstood to possess considerable skill in this branch of
business, and to perform their work both in a substan¬
tial and frugal manner. In building vessels in New
England, they make the beams which support the deck,
from the tx*unk of the spi*uce fir j taking care that
these, and some other parts which are framed of this
timber, have a sufficient thickness of wood, and be
strongly rivetted together. The rest of the vessel is
made of oak planks. It is only of late that the spruce
fir has been used in building ships in this quarter. The
ship-builders affirm, that it is an improvement to the
vessels j though, in all probability, the scarcity of oak
which now begins to be felt on the sea coast of New
England, has been the chief cause of the innovation.
It is said, however, that the spruce fir resists, better
than almost any other kind of wood, the action of the
sun and the weather, which in the American climate
put all kinds of timber to a severe trial. The planks
of the body of their ships, to the water’s edge, are often
made, not of oak but of beech wood, or of the wood
of the black birch, which is reckoned equally hard and
dui'able. The keel is of the wood of the beech, of the
sugar maple, or of what is called the rock maple. By
using these kinds of wood for so many purposes, there is
often not above a fifth-part of the ship made of oak.
The ship-builders maintain, that the beech, the black
birch, and the maple, are very serviceable for the pre¬
servation of iron, which the saline particles of the oak
are apt to consume. Instead of using tallow for those
purposes in ship-building, to which it has been usually
applied, all the ship-carpenters in America make use
of tx-ain oil vexy plentifully laid on. By these devices,
they have reduced the expence of ship-building to half
of what it formerly was, to the great emolument of the
persons engaged in it. 4-r
The fisheries are a branch of industry in which Fisheries
the Amei’icans engage to a considerable extent. The of cod.
whole coast of Massachusets, and especially of the di¬
strict of Maine, is inhabited by fishermen engaged in
the fishing of cod upon the great bank of Newfound¬
land, or in the sea in their own neighbourhood. They
bring all the fish on shore, where they receive the last
dressing. The fish are washed and laid in heaps, that
the water may run off. Thereafter they are exposed
for two or three days to the air : after which they are
placed on hurdles that are about four or five feet in
breadth, three or four feet above the ground, and as
long as the field on which they are erected. The fish
are laid separately, and frequently turned, that they
may get thoroughly dry j which happens under a
bright
4^
iVhale
isliery.
A M E
bright American sun in about six days. At last they
are packed in cases, pressed down, and exported either
to the West Indies or to Europe. The best fish, that
is, those caught in the first fishing months, are superior
to the rest, from being dried more slowly. They are
sent to Spain, excepting a few that are usually bespoke
by the better sort of people in the neighbourhood, and
are sold at double the price of those which are caught
later in the year, when the heat is more intense. The
fish caught on the coasts of Massachusets and of Maine
are neither so large nor so plentiful as those taken at
the Great Bank near Newfoundland ; yet this fishery
employs a considerable number of vessels, which pro¬
ceed only five or six miles from the coast, and return
home every week.
Besides this, and the salmon and herring fisheries,
which are considerable, the Americans also engage ex¬
tensively in the whale fishing, on the coast ol Brazil,
and in the Pacific ocean in the same latitude, and in
the West Indian seas, as far eastward as to the Cape of
Good Hope, from the 18th to the 25th degree of lati¬
tude. The business is sometimes also prosecuted in
Hudson’s bay, and the seas adjacent to the coast of
Greenland and Labrador, which abound more than the
southern seas in whales, and those of a larger size, and
such as afford oil of a better quality. But as the vast
masses of ice which infest the seas in these northern la¬
titudes render the fishing dangerous, the Americans in
general abandon the fishery in the north to the Euro¬
pean fishermen. Of late years, the whales have alto¬
gether abandoned the coasts of the United States,
though they were formerly found in considerable num¬
bers in that quarter. The spermaceti whales are chief¬
ly found in the Indian ocean, on the coasts of Africa
and Madagascar, in the Pacific ocean, and on the
coasts of Peru and Chili. A voyage to this fishing oc¬
cupies from ten to eighteen months. The crew receive
no wages, but have a certain share of the blubber ; the
captain has a fifth j the pilot a five-and-fortieth or a
sixtieth part of what is taken. The owners never
make less than 20 per cent, upon the adventure } and
the captain, from a successful voyage, in common years,
and at ordinary prices, usually receives about eight or
nine hundred dollars. A ship of 160 tons has a crew
of 15 persons and two boats. At their return, the
blubber which has been barrelled at sea is put into
fresh barrels, and cleared from its sediment before it is
carried to market; for though the sediment be as fit as
the rest for use in the soap-works, yet the oil in which
it appears is regarded as of inferior quality in the Eu¬
ropean market. This sediment, and a sort of white
flesh which is found in the head and belly of the whale,
are then squeezed in a press. A new quantity of oil
Spermaceti fiest quality is thus obtained. The residue which
candles. remains after the first pressing is put again into the
press, and more forcibly squeezed than before. It af¬
fords a certain quantity of oil j and it is the produce of
this last squeezing which, after undergoing a boiling,
is poured into moulds, and forms spermaceti candles :
These are sold for half a dollar a pound. Those which
are called spermaceti fishes yield this matter in great
quantity. In their heads alone there are often five or
six tons of this matter ; though the other whales have
the head differently composed, and do not afford above
a quarter of a ton out of each head. Thus all whales
453
B I C A.
yield more or less of tins matter, whicii is so much va¬
lued as a material for candles.
Though the Americans have few manufactures, they
engage extensively in every kind of trade. In the in¬
terior of the country, almost every person who can com- trade,
mand the requisite capital is an innkeeper, or keeps a
store. The employment of innkeeper is there perfectly
respectable, and is carried on by persons of distinguish¬
ed character. What is called a store in America is a
shop or place where all kinds of commodities intended
for consumption are to be found and sold by retail.
Nothing is excluded from it. Train oil and candles,
stationary wares, hardwares, and cloth, together with
distilled spirits, sugar, wines, and coffee, are all kept in
it in the same manner as in the shops of some of the re¬
mote villages in Scotland. In some situations in Ame¬
rica, these stores produce considerable profit, and are
made subservient to other speculations. When a man
engages in the clearing of land, and can at the same
time afford to lay in the goods necessary for keeping a
store, he is enabled to get back from the workmen
whom he employs the greatest part of the wages he has
paid them, in the form of profit upon the goods which
they purchase at his store. In this way, he contrives
to have his werk performed at a price which ultimately
does not amount to more than a half of what is paid by
others for the same labour. 455
With regard to foreign trade, the United States Foreign
have of late years possessed a very great proportion oftia(ie*
that which has been carried on among civilized na¬
tions. The vast extent of sea coast, amounting to near¬
ly 2000 miles, which spreads before the United States,
the number of excellent harbours, the numerous
creeks and immense bays which indent the coast,
and the rivers and lakes which peninsulate the whole
country, so habituate all young persons in America to
the idea of a maritime life, and to a fondness for navi¬
gation, that great numbers of them are at all times
found ready to engage in it. The enterprising spirit
of the people favours this tendency j and accordingly,
every kind of commercial speculation easily finds men
ready to embark iu it. For some time after the treaty
of peace with Britain, by which their independence
was acknowledged in 1783, while each state continued
to have its particular laws, prohibitions, and regula¬
tions j while the customhouse rates changed every year,
according to momentary considerations 5 and while an
active jealousy and rivals!)ip subsisted between the dif¬
ferent states, the commerce of the whole remained on
a very precarious footing. It was only from the pe¬
riod of the establishment of their new constitution that
a consistent system of national commerce could he
adopted. It so happened, that this period proved ex¬
tremely favourable to their engaging extensively in fo¬
reign trade. The violent shock, or rather the utter
ruin, which the revolution brought along with it to
the manufactures and commerce of France, forced her
to open the ports of her colonies to the vessels of neu¬
tral powers. From that moment, the Americans en¬
grossed all the commerce of the French colonies, which
they wrere so well situated to carry on to advantage.
The other powers of Europe, which had also colonies
in the West Indies, being all successively engaged in
the war, opened the ports of their colonies in like man¬
ner to the Americans, or at least considerably diminish¬
ed
A M E ft I C A.
United ed their prohibitive regulations. Thus the commerce
States, of the United States had the victualling of the West
—v'  India islands, as well as an exclusive trade with the
French and Dutch colonies, not only in provisions,
but also in commodities of every kind. Iheir ships
were freighted to carry West India produce to Eu¬
rope, and to bring back in return the articles necessary
for the consumption both of the United States and of
those same colonies. Add to this, that, in consequence
of the great scarcity of provisions that during various
years prevailed either in France or in Great Britain,
the Americans found in these countries a ready and
profitable market for all the productions of their coun¬
try. By these means, aided by the establishment of
banks, and by an unexpensive, though efficient, go¬
vernment, the commerce of the United States soon be¬
came extremely extensive. It reached the East In¬
dies, China, and every part of the known world. It
is true, that by the rashness of their speculations,
many American merchants suffered ; but the tide of
commercial prosperity was very great upon the whole,
and almost unexampled. The whole exports of the
United States in 1818 amounted to 93,281,153 dol¬
lars. 7
Whether this commercial prosperity will be perma¬
nent, now that the European nations have returned to
the enjoyment of peace, and consequently have reco¬
vered the power of carrying on their own commerce
without danger or interruption, with all the advanta¬
ges of an abundant population, and of inferior wages
of labour, is a question about which many doubts have
been entertained. It remains, however, with men of
sound reflection in America, a question of some diffi¬
culty, whether, in the present state of their affairs, the
attempt that has been made to conduct an extensive fo¬
reign commerce, is, upon the whole, favourable to the
prosperity of their empire. Distant navigations are un¬
doubtedly unfavourable to the progress of population,
by the great number of men which they consume, and
by preventing the increase of families. This kind of
commerce, also, by keeping up a taste for foreign luxu¬
ries, induces a people that have no manufactures to
lavish away the necessaries of life on the purchase of
superfluities, and thus to introduce a costly style of li¬
ving, which is said already to prevail too much in the
United States, and which in every country has been
found to be the greatest enemy to the increase of the
people.
One circumstance in the mode of managing the A-
merican commerce ought not to pass unnoticed. In
Europe, we are accustomed to imagine that a man can¬
not be qualified to act as captain of a ship till he has
made a number of voyages, and passed through a regu¬
lar course of study *, whereas, in New England, the
merchants do not hesitate to entrust their ships to young
persons, who have frequently been only one year at
sea. As they have grown up in the business of the
counting-house, they are perfectly acquainted with the
price, the quality, and the sale of each different com¬
modity. The first year they are associated with a
skilful steersmate, and act at once in the capacity of
captain and supercargo. Their vessels do not suffer
shipwreck more frequently than other ships which are
more cautiously navigated. In the course of a few
years, these young people become merchants them¬
selves, the captain’s profits being alwas considerable. Umtedl
As they are generally appointed from the families of Slates,
merchants, they receive assistance from their employ-
ers- . . 456
There is one kind of commerce which, in speaking Traffic of
of the trade of the United States, ought not to belaud,
omitted, as it is altogether peculiar to North Ameri¬
ca, that is, the traffic of land. This trade is founded
upon the considerable mass of land in the territory of
the United States, in comparison with their present po¬
pulation, and upon the probability of the rapid aug¬
mentation of that population, either by the natural and
ordinary means of reproduction, or by foreign emigra¬
tions. This, like all other branches -of trade, and more
than any other, is a traffic of speculation. At the end
of the revolution, the waste lands, which amounted to
more than four-fifths of the American empire, were
found to belong to different states, which, as sove¬
reigns, now inherited this property from the sovereign¬
ty of the crown of Great Britain. The lands granted
by the kings of Great Britain have, with some excep¬
tions, remained in the possession of the grantees j but
the amount of these was infinitely small in proportion
to the mass of the uncultivated land. The small states
near the sea having been longer inhabited, possessed but
a small portion } and some had none at all j while the
great states, whose territory extended far into the inte¬
rior, such as Georgia, the Carolinas, Virginia, Penn¬
sylvania, and New York, were in possession of immense
quantities of forest lands. It was necessary for these
states to sell the waste lands, to afford encouragement
to their growing population, to present a bait to fo¬
reign emigration, and to liquidate the debts resulting
from the war without burdening the people with new
taxes, which at that time they were little able to bear.
Among the lands to be sold were the confiscated estates
of the royalists, who had given assistance to the British
during the war. To bring these lands to sale, the
states opened land offices, where persons who meant to
purchase received warrants to have the lands they
pointed out surveyed by the surveyor of the state, pos¬
session being delayed till payment of the price, or ful¬
filment of some part of the conditions of the transfe¬
rence. Great speculations immediately began, land
being purchaseable of all the states at a very low price.
The states were then inundated with paper money, pe¬
culiar to each, and all in a state of depreciation. By
buying up this paper at a trifling price throughout the
country, and delivering it to the states as the price of
territory, many speculators acquired land with a real
value of two or three cents or hundredth parts of a dol¬
lar per acre, payable in six or eight years, with a dis¬
count from the treasury of the state for prompt pay¬
ment, according to the value at which the land was
rated by the law. Other speculators, without adopt¬
ing such a mode of payment, made purchases merely
upon the hope entertained by every American of an
immediate increase of population, by emigration and
otherwise, which would necessarily soon raise the price
of lands. Considerable quantities of land were also
bestowed by the states upon the officers and soldiers
who had been employed in their armies during the war,
as a remuneration for their services. By these grants,
and by purchases made by individuals from the land
offices of the several states, or from commissioners ap¬
pointed
United
States.
4S7
Sale* of
and in
arge por¬
tions.
► 45*
Sales of
land in
*maM par¬
se!*.
A M E
pointed to put up large portions to public sale, a great
extent of territory in all the states soon came to be held,
and continues to this day to be speculated upon, by pri¬
vate persons. The speculators in land who hold great
quantities of that commodity, endeavour to turn it to
account chiefly in three ways : 1st, By selling the land
in large parcels to men of fortune in Europe or Ame¬
rica ; 2dly, By selling it in small parcels to families
who mean to settle upon it; and, lastly, By preserving
it till time and a diminution of the quantity of this sort
of merchandise have raised the value of it to a price an¬
swerable to their expectation.
The first of these modes, is that which is most ge¬
nerally desired. To accomplish it, agents have at dif¬
ferent times been sent to Europe. Several great sales
were by their means effected in England upon advan¬
tageous terms, which raised the price of the remain¬
ing lands, increased the confidence of the speculators,
added to their numbers, and extended their schemes.
The opinion of an immense emigration, to which the
French revolution and the situation of Europe gave
rise, conspired for some time to give confidence to these
speculators. The great sales to Europeans were faci¬
litated by the periods of the payments to be made to
the states, which were always distant, and by the delays
of these payments, which could not be obtained with¬
out much difficulty. In the states of Pennsylvania and
Maryland, every foreigner could buy and possess land
as well as a citizen. In some others, although this
privilege was not given by law to foreigners in general,
yet it was readily permitted by the legislature when ap¬
plied for. In all the states, a foreigner may hold land
in the name of an inhabitant; rnd the great interest
the states had in selling, and in buying foreign capitals
into their territory, has always given entire security to
this borrowed right of possession. In making bargains
of this kind, the conditions are various according to
the views of the parties. The periods of payment are
generally short: at least a large part of the purchase
money is paid down when the bargain is concluded.
The conditions imposed by the states in the contracts
of sale, are binding by law upon the new purchasers;
but very often the old purchaser remains responsible,
in case of their not being fulfilled bv the new one. The
new purchasers become speculators themselves, and in
order to turn their new property to account, have
recourse to the same means that were employed bv
those of whom they bought it.
Land is sold in small parcels in several ways : either
out and out for ready money, a mode of sale which,
though not unfrequent, is not the most common ; or
out and out, but to be paid for by instalments ; in
which case the title deeds are not delivered till after
the purchase money is entirely paid ; and the seller re¬
tains a right of ejecting the new settler from his land,
if the conditions of payment be not fulfilled. Some¬
times the seller only requires a small part of the price
of the land in ready money ; and the land remains
subject to a perpetual rent, payable in money or in
produce, which the purchaser is not always left at li¬
berty to redeem. Sometimes the seller endeavours to
let his lands, for a certain number of years, for an an¬
nual rent, or under condition of clearing annually a
certain number of acres, the whole improvements be¬
ing to return to himself at the termination of the lease :
Vol. II. Part I. f
459 .
Lam! with-
R I C A.
But such bargains are unusual; settlers being unwilling
to accept of a temporary right. Almost all the great
landed proprietors, therefore, endeavour to get some
persons to accept, upon moderate terms, of small lots,
and to settle upon their estates ; because by clearing
some portions of it, they enhance the value of the
rest.
The third mode of deriving advantage from pur¬
chases of land, by waiting till time has raised its price, held from
is the resource of great proprietors who have not been sa'6 *n t*lc
able to employ the two others. Some persons, how-
ever, with little capital, endeavour to wait upon the price,
mere calculation of the rise that will probably take
place in a given time. In these calculations, men of
a sanguine temper are frequently deceived ; and there
are many examples of proprietors, who in the follow¬
ing year, would be extremely glad to sell at the price
that they had refused the year before. These specula¬
tions in land, however, have been the means of making
great fortunes in America ; but they have also, when
engaged in without sufficient capital, occasioned more
distress and greater and more disastrous bankruptcies
than any other kind of commercial adventures. The
lands in America are also the branch of trade which
has given occasion to the greatest number of law suits,
as well on account of the titles as of the boundaries of
estates, and of the fulfilment of the conditions of sale.
The most certain, as well as the most advantageous
means of deriving profit from a great extent of new
lands in America, is said to be for the purchaser to
begin clearing it himself; to attract inhabitants as
speedily as possible, by giving them, at alow rate, and
even for nothing, if necessary, a number of acres suffi¬
cient for the maintenance of their families; to erect
mills, make bridges and roads, even to build a few
houses, and to encourage in every way the efforts of the
new settlers. There is no example of these first sacri¬
fices, when made with intelligence and to a suitable ex¬
tent, having failed rapidly to increase the value of the
land reserved by the proprietor, and speedily to enrich
him by attracting great numbers of emigrants from
other countries. As the subduing of a vast wilderness,
and filling it with men of a civilized race and charac¬
ter, is an event of much importance in the history of
mankind, we shall here take notice of one of the in¬
stances of great success in an undertaking of this kind,
that occurred to an European speculator.
* The district called Genessee on the southern shore of Remark-
Lake Ontario, or rather that part of the district which able specit-
was not then sold, was in 1791 purchased, in London,]ation in
from Mr Morris for is. per acre. He had bought it^aslTof
from Mr Phelps for jd. per acre. The contract wasiand,
concluded on the supposition that this tract of land
contained 1,000,000 of acres :xand a condition was ad¬
ded that the price or sum of 50,000!. sterling, which
was to be paid immediately, should be returned by Mr
Morris, provided that Captain Williamson, the osten¬
sible purchaser, who was to view the lands, should not
find them answerable to the description given of them.
The purchaser was satisfied with the lands, and on sur¬
veying them a surplus was discovered of no less than
I 20,000 acres. But Mr Morris made no difficulty on
transferring them, together with the rest, to Captain
Williamson, without the least remuneration, because,
as he observed, he had intended to sell the whole with-
Q out
AMERICA.
United out any reservation. Captain Williamson is suspected
States, to have been only the agent of a very wealthy British
—'v“1 baronet. But in every respect he has acted as pro¬
prietor. The district bought by him, bounded on one
side by Lake Ontario, and on the other by the river
Genessee, extends 20 miles in length by 30 or 40 in
breadth. To preserve the continuity of his lands, he
made several additional purchases, so that his estate
soon amounted to 1,500,000 acres. After surveying
the whole, he fixed on spots for building towns, as
central points to a system of settlements. These towns,
were, Bath on the creek of Conhoctoon, Williams-
burgh on the river Genessee, and Great Sod us on
Lake Ontario. He immediately established a mode
of communication between Philadelphia and this new
tract, by forming roads in a direct line, so as to
shorten the journey at least 300 miles. These new
roads were made merely by felling the trees to the
breadth of an ordinary road, in as straight a line as
possible through the forest, and by removing them to
one side of the path ; their stumps to the height of
several feet being still left standing. He also erected
seven saw mills, and three corn mills. He built a great
number of such houses as the first settlers upon lands
usually require j and he began in several places to clear
the woodlands. His first labourers were Germans,
brought from Hamburgh ; but they spent their time in
idleness and drunkenness, and soon left him. They
were replaced by Irishmen, by whose assistance his
roads were soon put into what the Americans account
good condition in such a situation ; that is, he made
lanes through the woods in the way already mentioned.
The result was, that his lands, which at first sold at
one dollar per acre, in two years time, sold for three
dollars. The produce of about 800,000 acres disposed
of in this way, not only refunded the purchase money,
and the whole amount of the other expences incurred,
but is also understood to have yielded a nett profit of
50,000!. sterling. To obtain this success, however,
Captain Williamson found it necessary to reside in the
woods in the midst of his possessions. When he sold
small shares of 500 or 1000 acres, he always stipulated
that one family should come to settle upon each share
within 18 months, under the penalty of a forfeiture of
the bargain. When larger portions were sold, he sti¬
pulated, that a proportional number of acres should be
cleared of wood. His terms of payment were, to dis¬
charge half the purchase money in three years, and the
remainder at the expiration of six years 5 the payment
of interest to commence within 18 months after the bar¬
gain. Thus, a purchaser who instantly set about clear¬
ing the ground, could easily obtain its produce before
the interest became due 5 and his crops frequently as¬
sisted him towards the payment of the first instalment.
He also established stores of provisions in diflerent
places but these he never opened for sale unless the
settlers could not otherwise supply themselves, that the
sale of the produce of their lands might not be injur¬
ed. He likewise built a school at Bath, and endow¬
ed it with some hundred acres of land. He gradually
built inns, and even a sessions house and a prison, for
the public use. By all these efforts, added to great
care in preventing litigation among the settlers $ by
fixing in a precise manner the boundaries of the seve¬
ral pieces of property sold, these extensive forests were
2
in a few years reduced under the dominion of man, tlnited
and put into a train of speedily becoming populous and States,
valuable. —-v—J
From what has been already said concerning the Stat^f
state of manufactures in America, and the general situ-ao.rjcujlure
ation of the country, it will easily be conceived, that ^
the greater number of the people must be still engaged
in agriculture. Indeed, it is understood, that nine-
tenths of the inhabitants of the United States follow
this employment. Concerning the state of it, when
considered as an art, it is difficult to speak with preci¬
sion, on account of the variety of forms in which it is
practised in different districts of that great country. It
may justly be said, that the art of agriculture exists in
America in all its known degrees and varieties, both of
perfection and of imperfection. The ancient state of
Massachusets is as much cultivated as France or Eng¬
land. The houses stand near to each other, in the
midst of the fields and farms to which they belong j
some of the roads seem to be one continued village j
and to support this population much industry is exerted
upon the soil. Most of the fences are made of stone.
The harvest is always completely secured in houses,
and a great part of the ground is always periodically
laid down in grass. Numbers of horses employed in
country labour are seen in the fields $ but they are not
remarkable for beauty. The cattle are of a fine
breed, and all the pasture grounds are covered with
them. But the agriculture of Massachusets, and of
some other parts of the New England states, affords no
proper criterion by which to judge of the state of this
important art in the greater part of America. The
general rule with regard to husbandry in that country
is, that it is extremely defective and slovenly. This
does not arise so much from the want of skill on the
part of the Americans, as from the nature of their situa¬
tion. In that country, land is plentiful and cheap 5
but men are few, and labour is consequently dear.
An American husbandman, therefore, is more studious
to make the most of the labour that he can command,
than to raise great crops from a small portion of soil.
Having abundance of fertile land to waste, he finds it
more profitable to turn over negligently, with as little
toil as possible, a large portion of it, than to labour
any part of it perfectly. In this way he derives the
greatest benefit from his own personal industry, or
from the labour of those persons whom it is in his
power to engage for hire. This negligent mode of
cultivation, however, is laid aside in the neighbourhood
of the great towns, where land is valuable and dear 5
and it prevails in proportion to the remoteness of the
situation, and the facility with which land is obtained. ^
In some places, in consequence of the multitude of They flood
streams that are to be found in America, the valuable the land,
practice of flooding land is adopted ; and the American
husbandmen are said to practise this branch of the art
of agriculture with considerable ingenuity and industry.
Instead of attempting to level their ground, however,
they manage to convey considerable streams of water
through the valleys to the summits of the eminences,
or high grounds, by means of tubes or pipes, form¬
ed of the trunks of trees bored or hollowed out. In
other respects, however, the practice of American hus¬
bandry is undoubtedly very imperfect. Even in those
parts of the country in which timber has become dear.
A M E
Uuiiei the Americans still continue from habit to use wooden
States. fenCes. No such thing as a hedge is to be seen in any
£ of the states. The farmers say, that the thorn does not
o hedges, thrive in their climate. This point has not perhaps
been well ascertained by experiments ; but there can
be no doubt, that out of the endless variety of native
plants and shrubs, some might easily have been found
that are capable of being used as a living fence. All
the cultivated fields, at the first clearing of the ground,
are inclosed with fences, which consist of poles of wood
once split and laid zig-zag upon one another without any
stakes These fences are afterwards exchanged for re¬
gular palings of different kinds of wood, which are ne¬
cessarily attended with all the defects of that mode of
attempting to secure either corn or stock j -running ra-
464 pidly into decay, and requiring constant repairs.
ro stacks q_’[)e Americans have an expensive mode of securing
rgnun' their grain. Instead of building it up in stacks, they
are at the trouble of bringing it all into houses or barns.
They say, that it would not be secure in stacks against
the eudden and violent torrents of rain that occur in
their climate : an error into which they have un¬
doubtedly been led by building and covering their
stacks in an unskilful and improper manner. They do
not reap their grain with the sickle, but cut it down
with the scythe, which must undoubtedly produce con¬
siderable waste. But this is perhaps done from neces¬
sity, in consequence of the high price of labour, or ra¬
ther the difficulty of obtaining a sufficient number of la¬
bourers to perform the work in another manner. In¬
stead of thrashing, they use in many places, and parti¬
cularly in Virginia, the ancient custom of treading out
the corn by means of cattle, by whose feet it must, no
465 doubt, be considerably bruised and damaged.
few settle- Xhe simplest and least artful kind of American hus-
nued Il°W bandry tbat Practi§ed ‘n tbe formation of new settle¬
ments. When a family have come to a resolution to
settle in a particular district, they usually proceed in
the following manner: The husband, in the latter end
of summer, repairs to the spot where the settlement is to
be made. The first thing he does is to cut down the
small trees on one or two acres. He next barks the
larger trees. This last operation consists of cutting off
a circle of bark from the tree all round with a hatchet,
penetrating at the same time a short way into the
wood j the effect of which operation is, that on the fol¬
lowing year, the tree produces few or no leaves to pre¬
vent the sun from reaching the soil. In that climate,
trees thus barked or girdled, speedily decay, and in a
few years are overturned by any storm ; after which
they can be burnt with little trouble on the ground.
Among the trees thus barked, and upon the ground
that has been cleared, the new settler breaks up the
soil, by dragging along it a common harrow with iron
teeth. Without farther preparation, and without the
use of a plough, he sows wheat or rye. Wheat thus
sown produces from 20 to 25 bushels an acre, of an ex¬
cellent quality ; and, in consequence of the great ferti¬
lity of the soil, and its natural softness, being wholly
formed of rotten leaves and grass, good crops of wheat
are obtained with no greater degree of industry during
several years in succession. Having sown his grain in
this way, the settler, with the wood which he has fell¬
ed, constructs a small log-house, and makes suitable
fences around it j a labour which may be performed in
It I C A. 123
about a month’s time ; after which the new plantation United
is left to itself for the winter. It is to be observed that States. .
a log-house is built by laying trees upon each other at—v——’
right-angles in such a way as to enclose a square space j
the interstices being filled up with stone and clay, or
only with loam, and the roof covered with trees and
turf. A chimney is usually built, in one corner, of
stones and clay. In the beginning of spring, this ad¬
venturer brings his family and the best of his cattle to
his new settlement. His cows are turned into the
woods to graze. He plants potatoes, and sows Indian
corn, and thus is enabled to provide for the first year’s
maintenance. While thus employed, he is at the
same time clearing more ground, burning the trees he
has already felled, and, as far as may be, even those
which he has barked. The ashes afford a very useful
manure ; and in the opinion of the best judges, are
employed in this way to much greater advantage than
when converted into potash, the making of which is
with the new settlers merely the result of necessity.
For if a saw-mill be at hand, the large trees are con¬
veyed thither by oxen. Thus, within the space of
twelve months, a man may clear 15 acres j and few
families cultivate more than 30. The barked trees
are left standing for a longer or shorter time, according
to circumstances, viz. the species of the tree, the na¬
ture of the soil, and the degree of the wetness of the
season. The hemlock fir will stand eight or nine
years, the oak four or five, the maple three or four j
and trees, all the branches of which have been burnt
off, seldom fall before this time. The stumps of the
felled trees, generally two or three feet high above the
ground, hardly rot sooner than the barked trees which
have been left standing on the lands. Salt pork and
beef are the usual food of the new settlers. Their
drink is water and whisky; but there are few families
unprovided with coffee and chocolate. The axe which
the Americans use in felling trees has a shorter handle
and a smaller head than that of European wood-cut¬
ters $ and they assert, that they can do more work
with this short-handled light axe than with the Euro¬
pean one.
The Americans appear to entertain fewer local at¬
tachments than the peasants of Europe 5 and, accord¬
ingly, emigration with them is extremely common.
Some families make a business of forming new settle¬
ments in the way now mentioned. After building a
house, forming enclosures, cutting down a part of the
wood, and putting every thing into a decent train of
cultivation, they sell the settlement which they have
formed with so much labour, and proceed farther into
the woods, to commence anew the same career of
hardship and of industry. By these operations, they
never fail to earn a very considerable profit, on ac¬
count of the additional value which the land acquires
by their efforts in the eyes of persons of greater pro¬
perty. The same kind of undertakings, however, are
also engaged in by men of a vagrant and restless cha¬
racter, who delight in an idle life, the greatest part of
which is spent in hunting. These men keep upon the
frontiers of every new colony 5 and as soon as their
amusements begin to be restrained by settlers occupy¬
ing the country round them, they immediately sell
their plantations, and proceed to more remote situa¬
tions : thus becoming a kind of voluntary outcasts
Q 2 from
AMERICA.
466
Children
apt to be
lost in the
woods.
467
Cattle used
in agricul¬
ture.
468
Sheep.
469
Swine..
47°
Crain.
from civilized society. In these undertakings, there is
usually little personal hazard, as the wild animals are
less fierce in America than in other parts of the globe.
Wolves, bears, nay even panthers, usually fly before
man ; and the instances of their doing mischief are so
rare, that the very reality of it might be doubted. The
severest misfortune to which the inhabitants of the A-
merican forests are liable, is the loss of their children
in the woods. These unfortunate infants, over whom
it is almost impossible to keep constantly a watchful eye,
are apt to run out of the house, which is seldom fenced
the first year, and, straying from their houses, are un¬
able to find them again. In such cases, however, all
the neighbours join in the search, and sometimes the
children are found. But there are also instances of
their being totally lost, or discovered only when dead
of hunger or fear.
1 Both horses and oxen are used in agriculture in A-
merica. In some places, however, they have at times
found it necessary to confine themselves exclusively to
the use of the latter, because they are subject to no dis¬
ease in that country. Whereas in Pennsylvania, New
York, and elsewhere, almost the whole horses are some¬
times carried off by a weakness which destroys them in
the course of two months. The liver is blown up by a
swelling, which extends into the legs and the whole
mass of blood, and is called the. yellow water. It is
said, that in the state of Virginia, the Arabian horse,
with a very moderate degree of attention, thrives as in
his native climate, and without degenerating. South¬
wardly, the heat of the sun occasions a deficiency of
pasture ; and northwardly the winters are too cold for
the short and fine hair, and the particular sensibility of
constitution of that race. Their patience of heat fits
them, in that and the southern climates, even for the
drudgeries of the plough j and numbers of them are ex¬
ported from thence to the West India islands, as arti¬
cles of luxury to the wealthy planters.
Very few sheep are reared by the American farmers.
The wool is of a good enough quality j but there is
little or no demand for it, unless for the supply of some
manufactories of hats. The mutton is in general not
good; the carcases being very large, and the flesh
coarse from being fed on the high rank grass of the A-
merican pastures. Accordingly, few farmers keep more
than 18 or 20 to supply wool to be manufactured in
their own families. Great numbers of swine are kept
by the Americans. This is said to have soon become
a very favourite kind of stock amongst the earliest set¬
tlers in the country ; from the delight which they
found the swine took in hunting out and devouring all
kinds of serpents, with which the country abounded,
and which were objects of great terror to persons newly
arrived from the cultivated countries of Europe, in
which these reptiles are more rare.
The kinds of grain cultivated in America are nearly
the same with those reared in Europe, with some ad¬
ditions. A regular succession of crops is described by
an American writer, as used in recruiting worn-out
lands. In Maryland and Virginia, they have long
been in the practice of sowing a pint of the beans of
the cassia chameecrista with every bushel of oats on
poor lands. The oats ripen, and are cut in July,
when the beans are young, and escape the injury of
the scythe. They flower in August and September*
United
States.
471
In October the leaves fall off; the seeds ripen, and
the pod opens with such elasticity as to scatter the
beans to some distance around. The year following
the field is cultivated with Indian corn, which is sown
in drills. The beans which sprout early are all de¬
stroyed by the plough and the hoe } but the more nu¬
merous part not making their appearance above ground,
till the culture of the corn is ended, spring up unhurt
by the instruments of agriculture, and furnish seed for
the ensuing year, when the field is again sown with
oats. By this alternate cultivation of Indian corn
and oats with beans, the land is so far improved by
the rotting of leaves and stalks of the beans, that the
product is 15 bushels to the acre, on such as prior to
this management would not have produced more than
five. The American husbandmen are also of opinion,
that the common field pea is preferable to every thing
else for improving land, if the vines or straw be left
to rot on the ground, instead of being given to cattle
for fodder.
Indian corn or maize everywhere forms a consider-Iiuhaijcons,
able article of the produce of American husbandry.
The mode of rearing it is simple. Holes are made in
the field, four feet asunder every way, and so as to
form straight lines, for the conveniency of hoeing, or
ploughing. In every hole are put five or six grains
previously steeped in water, to make them spring up
the quicker. By day people are placed for a short
time to guard them against birds, and by night, fires
are kept up till the corn has sprung, to frighten away
the fox, who would otherwise turn up the ground, and
eat the corn of all the rows one after another. As
soon as the corn has shot out of the earth, when it
mounts up, the earth is drawn towards its root, to
strengthen it against the wind. Five or six ears are
commonly found on each stalk. The grains are near¬
ly the size of a pea, and 700 grains are commonly
found upon one ear. A light black soil agrees better
with it than a strong and rich one. The grain is used
in various ways, but chiefly in the form of a kind of
porridge or gruel. Bread is also made from it, and it
is sometimes used in distillation.
As in Europe, wheat is regarded as the most valuable
kind of grain. In Virginia, however, near the sea coast,
the cultivation of it is not a little discouraged by an in¬
sect called the weevil. This is a worm whose eggs are
almost constantly deposited in the ear of the grain. A
slight degree of heat greater than that of the common
atmosphere in summer kills it, and is endeavoured to
be obtained in the following way : The grain is thrash¬
ed as soon as it is cut, and laid up in its chaff in large
heaps. The heat which is speedily produced destroys
the vital principle of the egg, and protects the corn
from the inconveniences of its being hatched, while at
the same time the chaff sufficiently restrains the heat
from rising into putrefaction. If the grain continued in
the ears without being speedily thrashed, it would be
destroyed by the worm which would be excluded from
the eggs. This scourge, however, spreads no farther
northwards than the Potowmack, and is bounded to the
west by the ridge called the Blue Mountains. A few
weeks after the wheat has been beaten or trodden out
by horses, it is free from all danger, is winnowed, and
sent to market. 473
Tobacco continues to be cultivated to a considerable Tobacca*
extent.
A M E R I C A.
I 2
United extent in Virginia, and the states to the southward. It
States, is yearly, however, giving place to wheat, which is of
■—“V-—-' infinitely more value to the country, as having a less
tendency to impoverish the soil, and contributing in a
more direct manner to the encouragement of popula¬
tion. The culture of tobacco, on account of the con¬
stant attention and labour which it requires under a
burning sun, is chiefly performed by negroes. It is
difficult, troublesome, and uncertain. It is sown in the
month of March, in a fat and rather moist soil. Be¬
fore the time of sowing, the land is covered with small
branches of trees, which are burnt for the purpose of
destroying the herbs and roots that might injure the
growth of the plant, and also in order to increase the
fertility of the soil by their ashes. The tobacco is
thickly sown on a bed in the most sheltered corner of
the field. This bed is covered with branches, lest the
frost should hinder the unfolding of the seed, and pre¬
vent the sprouting of the plants. When they are three
or four inches high, they are transplanted into a field,
which has been well manured and prepared for their
reception. A negro heaps earth around the plants,
which are set four feet distant from each other on all
sides. The ground is constantly kept clear of weeds,
and all the leaves are taken from the plant, which it is
thought might injure its perfect growth, beginning al¬
ways with those that are next the ground, and which
might be affected by the wet. More earth is heaped
around the stalk, and its head bruised with the nail to
prevent its running up too high. All the sprouts which
shoot forth below the leaves are cut away, and all the
leaves successively torn off, except eight or nine, which
alone are left on the stalk. At last, when the plant
is supposed to be ripe, which happens in the month of
August, it is cut, left several days in the field to dry in
the sun, and then carried into the barns, where every
plant is suspended by its undermost part. In this posi¬
tion the leaves attain by desiccation the last degree of
maturity, but not all of them at the same time ; for
this desiccation, which, in regard to some, is completed
within two days, takes, with respect to others, several
weeks. When the leaves are perfectly dry, they are
taken from the stalk, and laid one upon another in
small parcels. The most perfect leaves must be put
together, and those of an inferior quality separated in¬
to different classes: this is at least the method follow¬
ed by such planters as pay most attention to the fabri¬
cation of their tobacco. These small parcels of leaves,
tied together by their tails, are then brought under
the press, and afterwards pressed down into hogsheads.
This process varies more or less in the different plan¬
tations, but the variations are not by any means con¬
siderable. The seed for the next year is obtained
from 40 or 50 stalks per acre, which are suffered to
run up as high as they will grow without their heads
being bruised.
Ihe sorts of tobacco cultivated in Virginia, are the
siveet-scented, the most esteemed of all ; the big and
little, which follow next; then the Frederick; and,
lastly, the one~und-all, the largest of all, and which
yields most in point of quantity. A negro can culti¬
vate two acres and a half; and, as each acre yields, up¬
on an average, 1000 pounds of tobacco, each negro can
consequently produce 2500 pounds. But the culture
of this plant is, as has already been stated, extremely
troublesome. It is exposed to a great variety of acci¬
dents, which cannot always be avoided, and which
destroy many stalks, or spoil at least many leaves. Af¬
ter the plant has been transplanted, the root is fre¬
quently attacked by a small worm, which causes the
leaf to turn yellow, and which must be taken out of
the ground with the fingers, to save the plant. Humi¬
dity communicates the rot to the plant, that is, covers
it with red spots, which cause it to moulder away, and
the stalk is lost. Violent winds are apt to break the
stalk. When the leaves are at the point of attaining
their maturity, born-worms nestle in them, attack
them, and completely destroy the plant, unless they
can be torn oft". Lastly, When the tobacco is cut and
spread on the ground to dry, the wet impairs its qua-
%. _ . 474
Indigo and cotton are also cultivated in some of the Indigo and
southern states. Cotton in particular is exported fiomcotten-
Charlestown in considerable quantities ; and of late it
has been brought down the river Mississippi, from Ken¬
tucky and other settlements to New Orleans, in such
abundance as to form an important article of commerce. 47^
In South Carolina, rice is cultivated to a great extent. Rice.
That country is divided by nature into Upper and
Lower. The latter, which is the eastern part, ad¬
joining to the Atlantic ocean, extends inward almost
100 miles. The land in this low district consists of
marshes and swamps, interspersed with a little high
land. The marshes are a second-rate land, which pro¬
duces a coarse kind of grass in very great abundance.
Little attention is paid to them, though they could in
general be drained and cultivated. The high land is
also neglected for the sake of the swamps, which are
the most valuable kind of soil, consisting of a rich blue
clay, or fine black earth, to the greatest depth. The
rice which is cultivated upon them is sown in April
and May. The ground is turned up eight or nine
inches deep in furrows, into which the rice is thrown
by a woman ; and the negroes, who alone are em¬
ployed in this cultivation, fill up the furrows. The
seed shoots up in 10 or 12 days, according as the
ground is more or less wet. When the blade is from
six to seven inches high, and after the negroes have
cleared away the weeds, the water is made to flow over
the field, so that no more than the tops of the blades
can be seen. In three or four weeks the water is let
off, and the negroes take away the remaining weeds.
The field is covered again with water, which is drawn
off when the yellow colour of the ear and the hardness
of the stalk denote the ripeness of the rice. It is then
cut and kept in stacks till winter. It is afterwards
thrashed, and put into a small wooden house, which is
some feet high, and rests upon four pillars ; and in the
ceiling of which is fastened a large sieve, which sepa¬
rates it from the other parts, and the wind clears it
perfectly before it falls to the ground. The rice, after
being thus cleared, must be freed from the first shell
that surrounds it. For this purpose, it is carried to a
mill, the grinders of which are made of fir, and are
about four inches thick, and two and a half in diame¬
ter. One is moveable, the other fixed. They are both
scooped out in an oblique but concentric form. A-
gainst the edges thus formed, the rice is pressed ; and
by that means separated from the husks. These mills
are turned by a negro. On account of the rapid mo¬
tion...
126 A M E
United lion and the soft wood of which they are made, they
is tales, do not last longer than one year. The rice is win-
v ■ 1 nowed as soon as it conies from the mill, hut still it
has a second shell which must be taken off, and this is
done by the negroes pounding it with clubs. 'Ihese
clubs, however, are sometimes put in motion by ma¬
chinery turned by oxen. After the rice is pounded, it
is winnowed again to cleanse it from the second shell ;
and it is put into another sieve for the purpose of sepa¬
rating the small from the larger grains. The last
only are saleable. Whether the separation is careful¬
ly made or not, must depend on the honesty of the
planter ; and, during the late dearth of provisions in
Europe, when the rice bore a high price, it is said
that they were not very scrupulous in this respect. The
rice destined for sale is packed up in barrels, offered
for the inspection of the officer appointed for that pur¬
pose, and then exported. During its growth, the rice
is exposed to several dangers, which render the crop
uncertain. Before the blade grows up, it is attacked
by small worms, which gnaw the root. It is .also fre¬
quently injured by little fishes that live in the water
which covers the swamps. Against them the rice is only
defended by the heron {ardea alba minor) which feeds
on these little fishes and worms j and on this account
is spared by the planters, as the turkey-buzzard is by
the town’s people. When the rice is ripe, it is assail¬
ed by innumerable quantities of small birds, which are
known in Carolina by the name of rice birds. The
young negroes are continually kept beside the fields to
frighten them away j but these voracious birds cannot
be entirely kept off. The rice swamps yield between
70 and 80 bushels of rice an acre, according to the
quality of the soil. Sometimes 120 bushels have been
produced from an acre : but instances of this kind have
been rare. Twenty bushels of rice, with the shells,
weigh about 500 pounds. Without the shells, these 20
make but eight bushels j without, however, losing
much in weight. The straw is given to oxen and
horses.
It will easily be believed, that the cultivation of
rice has a tendency to render a hot climate, in which
alone it can be practised, extremely unhealthful. The
inhabitants accordingly, in the warm and damp cli¬
mate of South Carolina, suffer severely every autumn
from malignant bilious fevers, which cut them off in
great numbers. When originally introduced, this con¬
sequence was not foreseen ; but it now maintains its
ground, from the difficulty of altering an established
system of industry. It will probably, however, be
suppressed in the course of time, as white men will not
engage in the operative part of the cultivation j and
the unskilful labour of negroes is always expensive,
which prevents the cultivation of it from being attend¬
ed with any great degree of profit. The American
rivers also being subject to violent inundations, which
they call freshes, often sweep aAvay the whole harvest,
together with the woods and fences which surround the
rice fields.
The coun- The lands that have been brought under cultivation
try irregu- in America do by no means extend in a regular progress
larly set- equal distances from the sea coast or from the older
settlements. In consequence of the superior goodness
of the soil, of the supposed salubrity of particular parts
of the country, or of speculations by purchasers of land,
RICA.
who have held out unusual encouragements to new set- United
tiers ; very remote districts are in many places inhabit- States,
ed, while others at a less distance from the seat of the \—
original colonies, still remain in a state of nature. In
general, however, the progress of emigration necessari¬
ly must be towards the west, and from choice it usually
is from the north to the south. The shortness of the
winter in the southern territories of the union, aflords
a great temptation to this course of things, on account
of the heavy tax which is imposed upon human indus¬
try, by the necessity of storing up great quantities of
fuel for man, and food for cattle, in the more northern
regions. In general, the great tract of the Alleghany
mountains is left unsettled, and emigrants from the
eastern parts of the union usually proceed altogether
beyond them before they think of settling. it has
been computed that, in some years lately, no less than
30,000 persons have crossed these mountains in search
of new habitations. The state of Kentucky, adjoining
to the Ohio, has been the chief point towards which
these emigrants have directed their course. They
usually proceed by land, across the mountains, to Fort
Pitt, which is 320 miles from Philadelphia. Families
are conveyed thither in waggons, by persons who en¬
gage in this employment, and take whole families of
men, women, and children, and their goods, at so
much per cwt. Near Fort Pitt, where many of the
emigrants remain, boats are obtained at a trifling price,
in which travellers commit themselves to the stream of
the Ohio, which conveys them downwards to these re¬
mote regions. Other emigrants travel towards the
same place by land, through the high country of Vir¬
ginia, some of whom advance into the new state of
Tenessee, that has been formed in the back parts of Ca¬
rolina. Of the immense territory beyond the Ohio,
very little is yet occupied, though the superior mild¬
ness of the climate and the fertility of the soil begin to
draw emigrants thither from the western states. ^
Of the principal cities and towns of the American House*,
union, we shall take notice in separate articles. In the
mean time, it may be observed, that the kinds of houses
used in America are no less various than the situations
of men in that country, from remote and solitary fami¬
lies in the woods, to wealthy citizens who inhabit ele¬
gant dwellings in the streets and squares of populous
towns. In general, however, houses of all kinds
throughout the country of America are formed of tim¬
ber. We have mentioned the log-houses which the
first settlers erect. These are substantial habitations,
though usually very clumsy. They are generally re¬
placed by handsome houses, finished by carpenters,
with chimneys and ovens formed of brick. The towns
in the southern states, being built in this way, have re¬
peatedly suffered great calamities by fire. The fear of
this evil, together with the increasing price of timber,
has introduced in the northern states very extensively the
use of brick for building. Accordingly the city of Phi¬
ladelphia, containing nearly 80,000 inhabitants, and
which is said to be one of the most regular and beauti¬
ful in the world, has now a very great proportion of
its houses built with brick. They are still, however,
not a little exposed to accidental fires, as their roofs
are formed of shingles or boards, so placed as that the
lower edge of each overlaps the upper part of the board
immediately below it, in the way that slates or tiles
are
AMERICA.
Jnitcd
States.
47 8
eligion.
479
loravians.
are laid upon each other, to cover the roofs of houses
in Europe. These roofs, and also the whtde outside
of the wooden houses, are usually very neatly painted.
One convenience that attends the use of wooden houses
is, that as they are not lofty, and their structure is
very slight, if a man who has only a small house dis¬
likes the place of the town in which he lives, he can
remove his dwelling to a more agreeable neighbour¬
hood. The furniture is taken out, the brick chimneys
are taken down, and the house is mounted upon very
low but verv strong carriages, formed for the purpose,
and is wheeled away to its new situation in any other
street, where ground for the purpose has been procu¬
red. When the chimneys are erected, the transference
is complete.
In the United States, religion does not form, as else¬
where, a part of the political establishment of the coun¬
try, but is rather to be regarded as connected with the
state of manners, science, and character ol the people.
In consequence of the entire freedom of religious opi¬
nion and worship which has for many years been en¬
joyed in America, all the varieties of sects have esta¬
blished themselves there, though nobody has departed
from the public profession of Christianity. In general,
however, religion is considered as an object of more
importance in the northern than in the southern states.
Accordingly, the emigrants from the New England
colonies, who are the most numerous of all, never fail
very speedily to establish religious meetings or church¬
es in their new settlements. Throughout the states,
the prevailing forms of religious worship are those of
the Church of England, and of the Presbyterians. The
Independents are also numerous. In Pennsylvania,
the greatest variety of religious denominatior* prevails ;
but the Quakers are the most numerous. They were
the first settlers in that state in 1682, under William
Penn $ and maintain in that country the reputation
which they have acquired in England, of soberness, in¬
dustry, humanity, punctuality in their dealings, and
strictness in the observance of all the peculiarities of
dress, speech, and manners, that their religious opi¬
nions enjoin.
The Moravians (see Unitas Fratruni), have made
several establishments in Pennsylvania and elsewhere.
That at Bethlehem, 53 miles north of Philadelphia, is
the oldest and the most considerable. In I 74°j Count
ZinzendorfF purchased the district, and soon brought
to it 140 Moravian brethren and sisters from Germa¬
ny. They had every thing in common : but such was
their zeal, that the men soon cleared the woods, made
roads, and reduced the lands into cultivation, while
the women prepared their clothes and victuals. The
system of common property was afterwards done away,
excepting as to certain objects, such as corn mills, a
tannery, a tavern and buildings, which belong to the
whole community. The town of Bethlehem is inhabited
by 500 or 600 persons, all of the brother or sisterhood.
They are divided into five departments, each under the
direction of an inspector or inspectress; and the tempo¬
ral administration of the society is in some degree mix¬
ed with its discipline. The unmarried brethren live
together in a separate house ; that is, they eat and sleep
there, but they do not work there if they can work
elsewhere. The money they earn is their own, but
they must pay for their board and the proportion of
the public taxes. The inspectors supply them with
work if they cannot find it elsewhere. Thus these
brethren cost nothing to the society at large. The
same is the case with regard to the unmarried sisters,
some of whom are employed as servants and cookmaids
in the houses of the town, where they receive board and
lodgings. They pay a certain sum to the society,
which preserves their right of entering into the unmar¬
ried sisters house when they please. In this house most
of the sisters are employed in sewing and embroidery,
and are paid for their work by the inspectress, who
sells it for the benefit of the house. The widows house
is supported by the brethren, and the widows them¬
selves contribute their whole labour, which is not suf¬
ficient for its support. They have a school or academy
which enjoys some reputation. The married people
live in their own houses. No communication is allow¬
ed between the young men and the young women.
When a young man wishes to marry, he mentions to
the inspector the girl of whom he has made choice,
but to whom he has never spoken. The inspector ap¬
plies to the inspectress of the girls, and if she judge the
young woman’s character not incompatible with that
given of the young man by the inspector, the girl is ap¬
plied to, who may refuse, but is not allowed to say whom
she wmuld prefer. If an unmarried brother and sister
are detected in a correspondence without marriage, the
matter is kept secret by the rulers of the society, but
the parties are never allowed to marry each other.
They are all of German extraction, and speak that
language; but their numbers are not increasing, not¬
withstanding the fecundity of the American women,
of which the Moravian married sisters have their share.
They have other settlements in the same state, parti-
ticularly one at Nazareth, 10 miles north from Beth¬
lehem, and another at Litiz, in Lancaster county.
They are also settled in New Jersey and North Caro¬
lina. There is a general directory of the w;hole so¬
ciety for America, which corresponds with the gene¬
ral college of the society in Europe, that meets at Hern-
hutt in Upper Lusatia.
At Lebanon, in the state of New York, a religious Shakers*
society is established, of a singular nature, called the
Shakers. This society is a republic governed in a des¬
potic manner. All the members work for the benefit of
the society, which supplies them with clothes and victuals,
under the direction of the chief elder, whom they elect,
and whose power is unlimited. Subordinate to him are
inspectors of all classes, invested with different degrees
of authority. The accounts reach him in a certain regu¬
lar gradation, and his commands are conveyed in the
same manner. It would be an unpardonable breach
of order to address the chief elder himself, unless the
addresser belongs to a class which enjoys this privilege.
Marriage is prohibited in this society, which has been
recruited merely by proselytes for 80 years. Married
men and women are admitted into the society, on con¬
dition that they renounce each other; and they fre¬
quently bring their children with them, who in this
case are considered as belonging to the society. They
make cloth, gauze, shoes, saddles, nails, cabinet work,
and in short every article that finds a ready market.
They sell their commodities in the neighbouring towns,
and the women perform such business as is generally
allotted to their sex. The society possesses considerable
property,.
4S0
AMERICA.
128
United property, the amount of which, however, is known to
State*, none but the chief elder. They are an honest, good-
- v-i. I., < natured people, are faithful workmen, and very mode¬
rate in their prices. 01 any peculiar doctrines entei-
tained by them little is known, excepting, that the
sect was founded by a woman, called Anna Leese,
whom they styled the Elect iMdy. They assert, that
she was the woman spoken ot in the 12th chaptei of
the Revelations, that she spoke 72 tongues, and could
converse with the dead. Their worship consists of lit¬
tle more than a set of whimsical gesticulations perform¬
ed upon a signal given by the chief elder, along with
the chanting of "some hymns known only to them¬
selves. This society has nothing in common with the
4Si Quakers.
Tuakers. At Ephrata, 60 miles westward of Philadelphia, is
the settlement of what are called the Tankers, or IDunk-
ers, (see Tunkers, or Dumplers). They are a kind
of Baptists, but profess a strange medley of tenets.
They were instituted in this place by one Conrad Tea¬
sel, a German. He collected them into a society, and
conducted them to Pittsburg, which at that time was a
wild uninhabited place. The chief ol the community
who succeeded Peysel, having made some alterations
in their discipline, dissensions took place •, they disper¬
sed, hut afterwards united again in the same place
where they were first established. A community of
property is observed among them, and they make a
vow of poverty and chastity.. This vow is not always
kept •, as some of them quit the society and marry,
which it cannot prevent their doing, as the law re¬
gards such vows as not obligatory. They lament the
fall of our first parent, who would rather have for his
wife a carnal being, Eve, than let the celestial So¬
phia, a being thoroughly divine, hear a child. She
would have communicated only with the spiritual na¬
ture of Adam, and thus a race would have been en¬
gendered all pure and without the least corporeal in¬
gredient. They lament the indulgence which God
showed in regard to this desire of Adam ; however,
God, according to their doctrine, has merely deferred
the period of this state of perfection. It is certainly to
arrive, and the Tunkers foresee the time, when, after
the general resurrection, the divine Sophia will descend
into every one of us.
Indians Three distinct races of men continue to inhabit the
territory of the United States. These are the Indians ;
the Negroes, who were introduced as slaves from the
coast of Africa *, and the Whites, of European extrac¬
tion. The Indians, who were the original inhabitants
of the country, have now been expelled from a very
large portion of it, and their numbers are rapidly de¬
clining. “ It is a melancholy reflection, (says the
American secretary at war, in a memorial addressed to
the president in 1794), that our modes of population
have been more destructive to the Indian natives than
the conduct of the conquerors of Mexico and Peru.
The evidence of this is the utter extirpation of nearly
all the Indians in the most populous parts of the union.
A future historian may mark the causes of this de¬
struction of the human race in sable colours.” The
government of the United States has made some hu¬
mane attempts to regulate the intercourse of their
people with the unfortunate original inhabitants of the
country. In 1796, a law was passed, with this view,
which contains many salutary provisions. It Ordains, United
that the boundaries of the Indian territory shall be as- State*,
certained and marked as clearly as possible. All per- y-—J
sons are prohibited to hunt upon the territory ac¬
knowledged by treaty to belong to the Indians, or to
carry oil cattle from it, on pain of a fine of 100 dollars,
and six months imprisonment. None are allowed to
enter the Indian territory without a passport. Any
fraud, robbery, or other crime, committed against an
Indian, is to be punished by a fine and restitution, and
the United States hind themselves to see the restitution
made, providing the Indian do not himself take ven¬
geance for the injury j in which case he loses his
claim. To kill an Indian of any tribe in amity with
the United States, is declared a capital crime. None
are allowed to trade with the Indians without a li¬
cense, and those to whom the privilege is granted, are
prohibited to purchase any implements of hunting, agri¬
culture, or household economy} and the troops of the
United States are authorised to apprehend white men,
who trespass against these laws, even upon the Indian
territory ; and they may also be apprehended in any
part of the United States where they are found. An
Indian guilty of any crime may he apprehended with¬
in the territory of the United States. If he escape,
the person injured by him may state his complaint to
the agent of the United States on the frontier of the
Indian territory, who is to demand reparation from the
tribe to which the offending Indian belongs, and to
acquaint the president with the result of his demand.
If reparation he not made, the injured party is in¬
demnified from the treasury of the United States ; and
the sum thus applied is deducted from the subsidies
granted by the United States to that tribe. The
courts of the United States, and also, when the cause
is not capital, the courts of the individual states, take
cognizance of offences against this law', even when they
have been committed within the territories belonging to
the Indians.
Another law enacted in the same year, 1796, with a
view to secure to the Indians fair treatment in their
commercial dealings with the white people, establishes
a trade with them to be carried on under the authority of
the president. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars
are appropriated to the trade, of which the objects are,
to furnish the Indians with such supplies and imple¬
ments as their wants require, and to purchase from
them skins and furs. The law directs, that the prices
of the articles sold to the Indians be so regulated as
barely to prevent the United States from losing any part
of their capital. It restrains the agents employed in their
trade from trafficking directly or indirectly on their own
account. It forbids them to cheat the Indians, and sub¬
jects them to fines of different magnitudes, in proportion
to the nature of the offences by which they transgress
these regulations. The district courts of the state,
where the storehouses are established for the commerce
with the Indians, take cognizance of these offences.
It is understood, that the just and liberal provisions
of these laws have never been punctually reduced to
practice. The extremity of the United States, b^TheVrofl
dering on the territory of the Indians, is inhabited by t^ei. getti(
a set of men who are in constant hostility with them, are alwa;
This class of inhabitants is universally admitted to hostilet0
consist of the very worst men in all America. The1 e *n 8
kind
AMERICA.
[fnitcd of persons who in Europe become robbers, thieves,
States, poachers and smugglers j in short, the restless spirits,
"Y"—’1 of whom some exist in every community, who can ne¬
ver be confined to regular habits of industry, emigrate
in America to the frontiers, and become voluntary ex¬
iles from society and civilization. They live, like the
savages, by hunting and fishing, or by other trifling
exertions of industry j but more frequently, when they
find it practicable, they engage in plundering the neigh¬
bouring Indians. Accordingly, where these are con¬
cerned, the sentiments, and even the idea of honesty
and humanity, are unknown to those remote settlers.
With very slight shades of discrimination between
them, they are uniformly a plundering and ferocious
banditti, who consider an Indian as a being not be¬
longing to the human species, and whom they may just¬
ly plunder or destroy. Hence it most commonly hap¬
pens, in those quarters, that neither accusers, witnesses,
nor juries, can be found to convict a white man guilty
of a trespass or crime against an Indian. The oppres¬
sions, the usurpations, and the crimes committed by the
whites against the Indians are therefore never punished,
or at least the instances of punishment are so rare, that
it would be difficult to find an example of its having
occurred.
The Indian, on the other hand, harassed and plun¬
dered by a set of men, the meanest of ’whom possesses
more art and more powerful means of doing mischief
than himself, contracts the habit of robbery and pil¬
lage, of which he sees the example, and is the constant
victim. As he extends, according to the practice of
savages, his vengeance to every individual of the same
colour with the person who has injured him, the whites,
even of the best character, are compelled, as a measure
of safety, to hold themselves in a state of hostility
against the Indians, and thus acquire a spirit of enmity
towards them. This hostility uniformly ends to the
disadvantage of the original inhabitants of this great
country, not only because they are less skilled in war,
but because the losses of men which they sustain are not
rapidly repaired by reproduction, as happens to a civi¬
lized people* who know how to rear upon a fertile soil
all the means of subsistence in abundance. It is not a
little remarkable, that the Indians say, it is the worst
class of their whole tribes that habitually continue near
the frontiers, engaged in a constant state of fraud and
violence.
The government of the United States does not pos¬
sess upon its remote frontier sufficient strength to re¬
press the irregularities now mentioned. The govern¬
ments of the individual states do not attend to them.
Every person admits, that the evil arises principally and
originally from the lawless aggressions of the whites ;
but as the evil is become habitual, and so inveterate
that it is not easy to discover a remedy, it is usually
spoken of by the white Americans without horror. In
the mean time, the Indians as a people are the only
sufterers by it. They are the weaker party. Every
contest ends in their discomfiture, and every transac¬
tion tends to their disadvantage j whereas the wander¬
ing and restless class of white men that constantly keep
upon the frontier of the settled country are of essential
service to their country. They act as a kind of pio¬
neers in preparing the way for the establishment of per¬
sons of better character, who gradually succeed them.
Vol. II. Part I. ^ i
It is an established opinion in America, among the tJnited*
most exempt from prejudices, that the Indians never states
can be civilized j that the strictest education, the most v '
assiduous and persevering cares, cannot destroy their
savage habits, to which they recur with the most ar¬
dent passion, from the tranquillity and from the man¬
ners of the white people; and an infinite number of
examples are cited, of Indians brought up at Philadel¬
phia and New York, and even in Europe, who never
ceased to sigh after their tribe. The opinion that has
been reared upon these facts has, no doubt, had a con¬
siderable effect in diminishing the exertions of benevo¬
lent persons towards their civilization. It has been
justly remarked, however, that we have no reason to
be surprised by the conduct of those educated Indians
who resumed their original habits. “ The Indians,”
says the duke de la Rochefoucault Liancourt, “ whose
education has been attempted, or said to he, had al¬
ready passed some years of their life in the tribe to
which they belonged. Transported alone from their
species into the midst of white people, difl’erent in lan¬
guage, habits, and in colour, and often even in cloth¬
ing, they became as it were insulated ; they were re¬
garded by the whites as a different species of men ;
they did not even attempt to make them forget that
they were from a nation still existing, whose manners
and habits had rivetted their first attention, and made
the deepest impression upon them. If, when arrived
at the age of manhood, they should have imbibed for
a white woman that affection which naturally created
the desire of an union with her, the difference of co¬
lour became an almost insurmountable obstacle. Is it
to be wondered at, then, that these Indians should wish
to return to their tribe, of which they had still the most
lively memory, and where alone they Avere able to find
companions of similar manners to their own, and those
pleasures which cause in man an attachment to life ?”
There are, however, in Connecticut, and in the state of
New York, a considerable number of Indians, both
men and women, who serve as domestics in white Ame¬
rican families, and who perform their duty as well and
as faithfully as those of any other race. One tribe on¬
ly of Indians, the Oneidas, in the back parts of the state
of New York, on the shore of Lake Ontario, appears
to have acquired what can be said to resemble civiliza¬
tion. They cultivate the ground with success, and
have a considerable number of villages. They are mild
and peaceful, and kindly officious in performing little
services to the whites. On the whole, they are account¬
ed excellent neighbours.
In the mean time it is evident, from the ordinary
progress of things, that unless the other tribes of In¬
dians shall resolve, which seems extremely unlikely, to
subsist by agriculture, they must speedily yield to the
encroachments of American population and industry.
In the territory of the United States, beyond the Ohio,
which, with some trifling exceptions, is still occupied
by the Indians, it is believed there exists a population
of about 50,000 souls. Between the head of the Ohio
at Fort Pitt and the northern lakes, a few thousands
more are to be found. In the states of Carolina and
of Georgia, and Florida belonging to Spain, about ten
or twelve thousand are still to be found ; so that, in the
territory oi the United States there is probably, in all,
between sixty and seventy thousand Indians. The ter-
R ritoi'ies
13°
AMERICA.
United
States.
48$
Smallpox
and intem¬
perance fa¬
tal to the
Indians.
ritories occupied by the Indians are acknowledged to
be their own, and that they cannot be taken away by
force. But this affords no protection to these people.
A little whisky will bribe their chieftains to give their
consent to the largest transferences. It is perfectly
common for great tracts of the finest territory in the
world to be bartered away, with the consent of all par¬
ties, for a few rings, a few handkerchiefs, some barrels
of rum, and perhaps some money, which the unfortu¬
nate natives know not how to convert to any valuable
use. The European nations and their descendants have
long been accustomed to regard all the world as their
property, and the rest of mankind as a kind of intru¬
ders, or an inferior race, whom they have a right to
dispossess when it suits their conveniency. We are apt
to treat as absurd the right which the pope, as high
priest of the European states, once* claimed, to give
away at his pleasure whole empires and immense tracts
of unknown territory which never belonged to him ;
but the conduct of the parties to the treaty of Paris in
3783 was probably neither less unjust nor less absurd,
when the king of Great Britain gave up, and the Ame¬
rican states were understood to acquire, a right of un¬
disputed sovereignty over an immense territory inha¬
bited by independent nations. The states of America,
accordingly, consider themselves as possessing the su¬
preme right to the property of the territory belonging
to the Indians j and though they do not seize that ter¬
ritory by force, or transfer it by sale, they readily do
what is nearly equivalent ; they sell to private persons
the right to purchase certain portions of it from the
Indians. Thus the state of Massachusets sold to Messrs
Phelps and Gorham the exclusive privilege of purcha¬
sing from the Indians a large territory upon the river
Genessee, whenever they should consent to part with
it. Messrs Phelps and Gorham sold this privilege of
purchase to Mr Morris, who again sold it to the Dutch
Company j binding himself at the same time to prevail
with the Indians to relinquish their right to a certain
part at least of the lands. Thus four different sets of
purchasers succeeded each other in regard to an object,
concerning the sale of which the consent of the true
original owners had not yet be£u obtained 5 and four
different contracts were entered into, founded on the
supposition, that it would be an easy matter to remove
the Indians from those distant corners to which they
had retired ; a point about which their more polished
neighbours were well assured.
The smallpox has at different periods proved ex¬
tremely fatal to the Indians, and has greatly diminish¬
ed their numbers. But the most dangerous enemy
which they have to encounter is their attachment to
spirituous liquors, which the whites cannot be prevent¬
ed from selling to them, and which they cannot restrain
themselves from purchasing. These liquors are pecu¬
liarly fatal to their strength and health, and daily ren¬
der their marriages less prolific.—So that, from a com¬
plication of evils, the hostility and oppression of the
neighbouring white people, the imprudent sales which
they make of their territory, and the diseases to which
they are exposed, the Indian tribes are gradually expa¬
triated and decreasing in number. Every nation is
now divided into different branches *, the families are
dispersed abroad ; and whisky is rapidly diminishing
the number of those which yet remain. A few years
2
more, and these nations will disappear from the surface
of the earth, as civilized people approach.
Negroes originally imported from the coast of Afri¬
ca, and held in slavery or emancipated, form another
part of the population of the United States. Ihe
British nation, which refused to pollute its population at
home by the existence of domestic slavery, had never¬
theless tolerated the practice in its distant colonies,
where the character of the people was accounted of
less importance to the empire, and where the interests
of commerce were regarded as the primary object of
attention. In the convention which formed the con¬
stitution of the American union, the southern states
were successful in obtaining an enactment in favour of
the slave trade, which was couched in the following
ambiguous terms : “ The migration or importation of
such persons as any ol the states now existing shall
think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the
congress prior to the year 1808 ; but a tax or duty
may be imposed on such importation, not exceeding
10 dollars for each person.” There are no slaves in
the commonwealth of Massachusets j and this is the
only state in the union that is entirely exempt from the
disgrace of personal slavery. It was abolished in the
following manner: No law in New England had po¬
sitively authorized slavery j but it prevailed under the
sanction of custom and of public opinion. Several law’s
indeed presupposed it 5 as they authorized the reclaim¬
ing of negroes who quitted their masters, enjoined the
necessity of restoring them, and prohibited the inter¬
marriage of blacks w'ith free people. The new constitu¬
tion of Massachusets, like those of the other states,
declared an equality of rights for all men. In.iySi,
some negroes, prompted by private suggestion, maintain¬
ed that they were not slaves, and they found advocates
who brought their cause before the supreme court.
Their counsel pleaded, 1st, That no law established sla¬
very, and that the laws supposing it were the result of
error in the legislators who had an authority to enact
them ; 2dly, They contended, that all such laws were
annulled by the new constitution. They gained the
cause upon both these principles j and, dfe there were
only few slaves in Massachusets, all further idea of sla¬
very wfas banished. But in the other New England
states, under similar laws, and in similar circumstances,
a contrary decision was given.
It is to be observed, that in 1778, the general enu¬
meration of the population of Massachusets, included
18,000 slaves 5 whereas, the census of 179° exhibits
only 6000 blacks, and at present there are none. It
appears that a great proportion of the emancipated ne¬
groes went to the towns, where making an indiscreet
use of their newly acquii’ed freedom, many of them ad¬
dicted themselves to the intemperate use of spirituous
liquors, and died in consequence ; others engaged as
sailors even on board foreign ships. The generality of
those who did not disappear became servants j some are
tradesmen, or even farmers j but only a small number
have attained to independence. They fall under, the
lash of public justice more frequently than the whites,
in proportion to the numbers of each class ; and indeed
the free blacks are generally held to be thievish and dis¬
orderly.
In the eastern part of Virginia, one-third of the po¬
pulation consists of Negro slaves, and farther south,
where
United
States.
AMERICA
13'
Unilfd
Suites.
485
Vhites.
where rice is cultivated, the proportion of negroes is
still greater. In New York, and the other middle or
northern states, measures have been adopted for their
gradual emancipation. Such measures have become po¬
pular, not only from the general temper of the age, but
from the conviction, now generally diffused, ot the ten¬
dency of domestic slavery to degrade the character of
the free white men.
With regard to the whites, who form the third and
last class of the people of this great country, it may be
observed, that when the American constitution ordain¬
ed the enumeration of the inhabitants ot the United
States, within three years after its acceptance, it enact¬
ed also, that the same enumeration should be renewed
every 10 years, and left it to the congress to make a
law for regulating the manner ol performing it. A law
was necessarily passed for this purpose in I790, ^ie
marshal of every district, who is a kind of sheriff, is
ordered to superintend the enumeration. In this work
he may call in what aid he thinks proper. He must
make a return to the president of the United States, di¬
stinguishing in the table of population, the number of
free males under and over the age of 16 years 5 and al¬
so the free women and girls; and the slaves. I he In¬
dians are not included in the list ot population. I he
lists are exhibited upon public places, for the correc¬
tion of the inhabitants ; and the heads of families are
required, under a pecuniary penalty, to state correctly
the number of their families.
The enumeration of the people taken in I79°»
virtue of this law, announced a population of 3,929,326
inhabitants, of whom 3,231,629 were free. In 1800
the population amounted to 5,308,666, of whom 896,849
were slaves; and in 1810, the population amounted to
7,239,903, of whom 1,191,364 were slaves. The pre¬
sent population (1820) is estimated at ten millions;
and the period of doubling is found to be about twenty-
three years.
The character of the inhabitants of the United States
character, of America, is necessarily various, according to the cli¬
mate which they inhabit, and the laws and history of
the different states. The use of slaves, in particular,
has of itself produced a considerable effect upon the
character and habits of the free men of those parts of
the empire in which they abound. Certain features of
character, however, are in some measure common to
the whole inhabitants of the states; and it may be ob¬
served in general, that the British nation, which was
the founder and the parent of these people, has no rea¬
son to be ashamed of them. Indeed, in a country which
belonged to Great Britain for a long time, which was
peopled from it, of which the most nuiperous and near¬
est connections are yet with Great Britain, and which
carries on with us almost all its commerce, the manners
of the people must necessarily in a great degree re¬
semble our own. Accordingly, the American manners,
particularly those relative to living, are the same as in
England, or the south of Scotland ; and New York and
Philadelphia are faithful copies, in this respect, of Li¬
verpool and of Glasgow. As to the dress, the English
fashions are as faithfully copied, as the transmissions of
merchandise from England, and the correspondence of
tailors and mantua-makers, will admit of. The distri¬
bution of the apartments in their houses is like that of
_487
National
Great Britain. The furniture is British ; the town
carriages are either British or in the British taste, and
it is no small merit in the fashionable world, to have a
coach newly arrived from London, of the newest fashion
there. The cookery is British ; and as in Britain, af¬
ter dinner, the ladies withdraw, and give place to drink¬
ing wine, a custom which the Americans carry at least
to as great a length as the natives of the parent state.
Indeed, frequent and sumptuous dinners are said to be
held in as high consideration in the new, as in the old
world.
In the United States, the British character is modi¬
fied by the situation in which the inhabitants ot this
new empire find themselves. 1 he most general quali¬
ties common to all Americans, are understood to be,
intrepidity, an ardour for enterprise, a high opinion of
themselves, humanity, and a boundless love ot gain.
These qualities, some of which are so apparently dis¬
cordant, are nevertheless found to unite in the Ameri¬
can character. They who consider candidly the history
of the war of the revolution, the instances of individual
courage which they exhibited in it, and the perseve¬
rance which the whole people displayed under repeated
discomfiture, will be fully satisfied concerning their
firmness and courage. Habituated to fatigue from their
infancy, having for the most part made their fortunes
by their labour and their industry, fatigue and labour
are not yet become repugnant, even to those in easy
circumstances. While they wish to enjoy the luxuries
of life, they do not regard them as absolute wants.
They know how to dispense with them, and to quit
them and to travel in the woods whenever their inte¬
rest requires it. They can forget them whenever a re¬
verse in the current of their affairs takes them away.
They are not depressed by disappointment, but instant¬
ly resume the pursuit of fortune when she has most
cruelly deceived them.
Great pride of spirit, and a high notion of their own
worth, are also striking parts of the American charac¬
ter. A committee of the house of representatives of
the United States, appointed to prepare an answer to
the address of the president, in December 1796, gave
a notable instance of this. These gentlemen very mo¬
destly thought fit to call their countrymen the most en¬
lightened nation of the whole world; and very great la¬
bour and long discussions were necessary before the ma¬
jority of the house could he prevailed upon to sacrifice
this superlative, which it is said would not have embar¬
rassed the modesty of their constituents. No white
American will so far degrade himself, as to consent to
accept of the situation of a domestic menial servant or
footman. Hence it is said, that throughout the whole
extent of the United States, 20 native Americans are
not to be found in the state of domestic servants. This
class of domestics in America is composed of emigrant
priests, Germans, and negroes or mulattoes. As soon
as the former of these have acquired a little money,
they quit a station which they find to be regarded with
such contempt, and establish themselves in a small
trade, or upon land which they clear and cultivate.
Hence it may easily be inferred, that a good domestic
man-servant is not easily to be found in America.
The prejudice which causes the men in America to
have so great a repugnance to the state of domestic
R a servitude,
United
States.
132
A M E
servitude, does not influence the women in the same
degree. And accordingly, nothing is more common
than to see young women of good families, in the
situation of servants during the first years of their
youth.
At the same time, it must not be imagined, that
pure republican manners prevail in America. Though
there are no distinctions of rank, formally acknow¬
ledged by law in the United States, yet fortune and the
nature of professions form different classes. The first
class is occupied by the great merchants, the lawyers,
the physicians, the clergy, and the land-owners who
do not cultivate their land themselves •, the number
of whom is small from the state of Delaware to the
north, but is great in the states of the south, where
slavery prevails. The second class consists of the in¬
ferior merchants, the farmers, and the artisans. And
the third class is composed of workmen, who let
themselves to labour by the day, the month, &c. In
balls, concerts, and public amusements, these classes do
not mix ; though, except ordinary labourers, and com¬
mon sailors, every one calls himself, and is called by
others, a gentleman. A small income is sufficient for
the assumption of this title, as it easily carries men
from one class to another. It is said, indeed, that
the struggle for rank between different classes produ¬
ces, in the great towns, a very ruinous degree of
ostentation. In New York and Philadelphia, luxury
is very high, and makes a dangerous progress every
year, by increasing the expence of living, and altering
the public opinion with regard to what constitutes easy
circumstances and a competent fortune. Still, how¬
ever, the inferior class of workmen entertain a high¬
er opinion of themselves than elsewhere. They find
the road to independence more practicable, and as the
price of their labour is high, their circumstances are
easy, and they endeavour to throw aside, as far as pos¬
sible every appearance of rusticity. They see all ranks
of men engaged in business j they do not therefore ac¬
count themselves degraded by being compelled to la¬
bour, especially as they find their skill and industry
sought after by others, while it is productive of afflu¬
ence to themselves j for in the United States there is
not a family, even in the most miserable hut, who do
not eat butchers meat twice a-day at least, and drink
tea and coffee j nor is there a man who drinks pure
water. Having heard much of the modes of living
usual among persons of their rank in other nations,
they are led to entertain an unbounded value for them¬
selves and their country.
Did not the practice of slavery still stand in the
way, the Americans would not be surpassed in the re¬
putation of generosity and humanity. When a bro¬
ther or a sister dies, leaving orphan children, they are.
readily adopted into the families of their uncles and
other kindred, who treat them entirely as their own.
Ihis conduct is so common in America, that it meets
with no praise, and is considered merely as the per¬
formance of the most ordinary duty, and as requiring
no effort. Hospitality to strangers is also exerted to
a great extent, and in a way that even perplexes for
some time the modesty of an European. In cases of
unusual calamity also, great liberality is displayed
by them. The unfortunate sufferers by the fires of
Charlestown and Savannah,, and by the dreadful dis-
3
RICA.
ease which raged at Philadelphia, New York, and United
other cities, were relieved by the abundant subscrip- States.
tions of the citizens of all the American towns where  y—
these disasters did not occur. The inhabitants of the
French West India islands who fled to the shores of
America, in consequence of the events of the late ter¬
rible revolution, were relieved by voluntary contribu¬
tions, to the amount of more than 200,000 dollars.
Whole families of them were supported for one or
two years, according to their necessities, by individual
Americans, in their houses, merely because they were
unfortunate. There also exists a very considerable
number of charitable societies for various purposes, in
the United States. Some of these are marine societies,
whose purpose is in some towns to provide a subsistence
for the wives and children of those who die at sea, or
to provide assistance to all vessels wrecked upon their
coasts. There are also societies for the assistance of
emigrants, that is to say, for assisting with advice and
succours those strangers who arrive from Europe, with
an intention of establishing themselves in America.
Others subscribe for the support of hospitals and schools,
and for the distribution of proper medicines. There
are societies for the civilization of the Indians, and
others for the purposes of ameliorating the situation of
prisoners. Indeed, it is with regard to this last sub¬
ject that the Americans are entitled to boast that the
triumph of humanity has been more complete in some
parts at least of their country than anywhere else in
the world. At Philadelphia, the administration of the
prisons has been established upon the most enlightened
and benevolent principles, and is conducted with a de¬
gree of advantage to the public, and to imprisoned
criminals, that has hitherto been unknown in the hi¬
story of mankind. The jailors receive ample salaries j
a constant inspection is exerted over them, by the most
respectable characters in the state ; the convicts are
treated with the utmost mildness j yet licentiousness is
banished, they are enabled to support themselves, and
sometimes to carry out with them a sum of money, or
to support their families during their confinement j and
in almost all cases, the much wished-for, but hitherto
unattainable end, is said to be gained, of rendering
punishment the means of accomplishing the reforma¬
tion of the criminal. ' Such is said to be the admirable
effect of the humane and skilful management which has
been here adopted, chiefly, it is understood, by means
of the members of the sect of Quakers j that, instead of
the prisons containing what are called old offenders, it
usually happens, that of 100 convicts discharged, either
in consequence of pardons, or at the expiration of the
term of their sentence, there are never above lwTo com¬
mitted for new crimes, although imprisonment for a
longer or shorter period is the only punishment adopt¬
ed for all great crimes ; no crime being capital except¬
ing only wilful murder.
But the most remarkable feature in the American
character, and indeed their ruling passion, is a bound¬
less thirst after gain. This passion, however, is in
them altogether different from that timid and hoarding
appetite which with us is sometimes seen to quench all
the energies of the human mind, and to extinguish
every generous and liberal sentiment. In truth, the
avarice of an American is nothing more than the pas¬
sion of ambition directed to the acquisition of wealth
asr
AMERICA. 133
United as thb jnly means of attaining distinction in the state of
States, society in which he is placed. Accordingly he endea-
- y" ■ 1 yours to gratify his love of riches, not so much by the
slow and sure mode of saving what he already possesses,
and of suffering it to accumulate, as by entering into
bold and hazardous speculations, with a view to the
sudden acquisition of fortune. It his speculation is
unsuccessful, he thinks not the worse of himself on that
account, nor is discouraged from repeatedly encounter¬
ing similar hazards. If he is at last successlul, his
wealth is used in such a manner as evidently demon¬
strates that the love of riches has not fully engrossed his
mind. He is luxurious, ostentatious, generous to the
unfortunate, and ready to contribute to every scheme
of public beneficence or utility. Still, this ardent pas¬
sion for the acquisition of money, which occupies so much
of the thoughts of every American, never fails to ap¬
pear disgusting to men of letters, or to men of rank who
have at any time gone from Europe to America. They
are astonished to find physicians, lawyers, and priests,
deeply engaged in stock-jobbing and commercial spe¬
culations, and that every part of society is composed of
men whose ruling passion and great subject of meditation
is, the sudden acquisition in some way or other of great
pecuniary gain.
The Americans marry very young, especially in the
country. Young men, who generally establish themselves
very early either in some new lands or in some trade,
have occasion for a wife to assist them in their labours j
and this conduces to their early marriages as much
as the general purity of manners. If a wife die, she is,
for the same reason, very speedily replaced by another.
Both in town and country, she is an indispensable re¬
source for domestic affairs, when her husband is enga¬
ged in his own affairs, as every one is in America. She
is also necessary as a companion, in a country where the
children soon quit their parents, and where the men,
constantly engaged in some kind of business, find it in¬
convenient to leave their own families in search of so¬
ciety. The manners of the Americans in their con¬
duct towards the other sex are represented as very pure.
Young women of uncommon beauty travel alone from
15 to 25 miles to Philadelphia to market with eggs,
fowls, hutter, and other commodities, beginning their
journeys at the commencement of the night, without
finding that their youth and beauty expose them to any
hazard or inconvenience.
All travellers agree in representing the American
women as highly virtuous and respectable j as faithful
and industrious wives, and affectionate mothers. The
young women enjoy entire freedom, and the commerce
of the sexes is free from gallantry and from jealousy,
The crime of adultery, which attacks society in its
first elements, is said to be unknown. One quality
ascribed in a remarkable degree to the American wo¬
men ought not to pass unnoticed, which is, a remark¬
able attention to cleanness, both in their persons and
their houses. The French who took refuge in the
United States during the revolution, though attentive
enough in this respect to the appearance of their per¬
sons, were regarded as so slovenly and dirty in the
management of their houses and furniture, that they
soon rendered themselves altogether odious to the A-
mericans.
The state of education and of literature is still defec¬
tive in most parts of America. The physical or natural United
part of the education of the Americans is said to be States,
excellent. Left to themselves from their tenderest age,v~—
they are exposed without precaution to the rigour of
heat and cold, with their feet and legs bare, and with
few clothes. The children of the rich are not brought
up much more tenderly than those in less easy circum¬
stances. In the country they often go alone twice a-
day to schools, two or three miles distant from home.
There are few American children who cannot swim
boldly, and at ten years of age manage a gun and hunt
without danger j and not one who does not ride with
great courage, or who fears fatigue. This liberty
given to children teaches them to take care of them¬
selves, and bold as they are, they avoid dangers better
than children brought up with much greater care.
They become strong and enterprising men, whom no
difficulties dishearten j and produce a growing genera¬
tion, which will be as invincible in its territory, as that
which preceded it was found to be.
The instructive part of education has not attained
the same perfection. Massachusets is the state in which
a system of education has been most regularly establish¬
ed bylaw. It was enacted in 1789, that each town
or township containing 50 families or houses shall have
a schoolmaster of good character, to instruct the children
in the English language, reading, writing, and arith¬
metic. The school to be open six months in the year.
The towns or townships of 100 families, are to have
schools of the same kind, which are to be open during
the whole year. Those of 150 families are bound to
have two schools, one for 12 months and one for six.
Those of 200 families, or more, are bound to have two
schools, one for 12 and one for six months, and in ad¬
dition to these, a grammar school, in which the Greek,
Latin, and English languages are to be taught gram¬
matically. The expence of supporting the school¬
masters, together with the school-houses, the fuel, and
ink that may be necessary, are defrayed by a general
tax or assessment upon the whole people. The parents
pay their share of this assessment, in proportion only to
their wealth, and not to the number of their children.
They supply their children with the necessary books,
and with pens and papei\ Colleges are also established j
but in these the professors receive fees from the students.
The books read at the schools are regulated by law j
and we are informed, that the Latin grammar which
the state of Massachusets has preferred is that of Dr
Alexander Adam, rector of the High School of Edin-
burgh, author also of the celebrated treatise upon -Ro¬
man antiquities, and other works illustrative of classical
literature.
Though the state of Massachusets has the most
complete system of education, the manners of the
people in the whole New England states have produced
such a degree of attention to literature, that there
are few or no white persons there who cannot read
the English language, and the people at large possess a
considerable degree of literature. In proportion, how¬
ever, to the distance from New England southward,
education becomes gradually defective, and in the
Carolinas and Georgia, schools are scarcely to be found.
In different states, however, there are colleges and
universities, in which the sciences are taught, and de¬
grees conferred.
134
A M E
The education of youth in America is conducted as
in Scotland, with a view rather to introduce young per¬
sons quickly into life, than to render them men of pro¬
found learning. A young man in America hardly ar¬
rives at the age of .16 years before his parents are desi¬
rous of planting him in the counting-house ot a mer¬
chant, or in the office of a lawyer: Hence he is never
likely to resign himself to the sciences and to letters.
He soon loses all other ideas than those which can hur¬
ry him on to the acquisition of a fortune. He sees no
other views in those around him, or in society 5 and
that his whole consideration is attached to this kind of
success. Hence it will not appear surprising, that there
should be few learned men in the United States. In¬
deed, the number of learned, ingenious, and well-in¬
formed individuals, which is very considerable, that
have appeared there, must be ascribed rather to their
own native energy of character than to their edu¬
cation, or the state of society in which they were
placed.
In the American schools, the instruction in Latin is
seldom extended farther than the first classic authors,
including Cornelius Nepos, Ovid, and some orations of
Cicero. A little of Virgil and Horace are read in the
colleges. The New Testament in Greek, and a little
of Homer in some colleges, is the limit of classical in¬
struction in that language. Mathematical instruction
is usually confined to the Elements of Euclid, and the
first principles of conic sections. Practical geometry,
however, for the purposes of land-surveying and navi¬
gation, is much valued, on account of its connexion
with those branches of business which lead to riches.
Mechanics, hydrostatics, and hydraulics, are taught
after the works of Nicolson, Ferguson, or Enfield.
Medicine, however, and the branches of science con¬
nected with it, are said to be well taught in some Ame¬
rican universities $ and that profession has produced
many respectable and well-informed men. Still it is
probable, that however enlightened the Americans may
account themselves, the nature of their pursuits is such,
that a considerable time will elapse before they can ex¬
hibit any great number of men of profound and exten¬
sive learning. Such accomplishments, however, as their
situation requires they possess in much perfection. In
the debates of congress, speeches full of correct reason¬
ing, drawn from a knowledge of mankind and of hi¬
story, and expressed with purity and eloquence, are of¬
ten heard; and almost all persons engaged in business
aspire in their correspondence to display much elegance
RICA.
of expression, though their style is apt to swell out into United
verbosity. States.
The most common vices of the American people are, =-"—y—
an ostentatious luxury, on the part of the rich in great
towns $ and of the inferior class, a too free use of spi¬
rituous liquors. This they are led to by their easy cir¬
cumstances, and by a great fondness for society. These
vices are greater and more remarkable in the southern
states than in the northern. In the south, also, men
are more fond of gaming than in the north, and the
energetic qualities of the American character are less
conspicuous j a circumstance which is supposed to arise
from the existeffceof slavery, which in these states ren¬
ders labour and personal industry less respectable. But
in general the character of the Americans is rendered
pure by the train of constant industry in which all per¬
sons ax*e engaged. One of the most troublesome 6f
their faults, however, ought not to pass unnoticed :
They are, upon the whole, a very litigious people, and
lawyers abound and flourish among them to a great
degree. But, in common with all the countries that
have derived any part of their constitution or their laws
from England, they possess a very pure administration
of justice. This has always been the singular privilege
and the glory of the English nation. No people that
attains to it can fail to possess sound morals, or conse¬
quently to enjoy all the prosperity of which a nation is
capable. To the habits of integrity, and a respect for
the laws and the magistrates, which it produces, we
must ascribe the internal tranquillity of America. Po¬
litics form the only science which all men study there *,
and political zeal hurries the different parties into the
most uncharitable misrepresentations of each others
views and conduct. But no man has preferred his own
personal aggrandisement to the authority of the law or
the welfare of his country; no usurpation has defaced
the fair page of the American history ; and if rebellion
has occurred, it has been bloodless, and has only af¬
forded to all ranks of men an opportunity of displaying
their attachment to public order.
Upon the whole, though men exclusively attached to
the pursuits of literature, and to the enjoyment of idle
but polished society, would find themselves ill situated
in America, yet we must undoubtedly regard the United
States as forming at this moment the most prosperous
empire upon the globe. It contains an active people,
easy in their circumstances and happy ; and every day
gives an accession of population and of strength to this
new country. See America, Supplement.
index.
A
Act, stamp, framed, N° 126
received with universal
indignation, 127
repealed, 128
Dr Franklin’s opinion of, 129
Acts, several, exasperate the Ameri¬
cans, 157
Agriculture, state of, 461
Agriculture, cattle used in, N° 46'
America, peopling of, 9:
divisions of, li'
productions of, lli
different possessors of, ll<
coast of, invaded by the
British fleet, 30'
North, provinces of, success¬
ful expedition against the, 32:
America, independence of, acknow¬
ledged, N° 381
immediate consequences of
the revolution to, 3^
history of, continued, 402
American army, situation of, at the
commencement of the war, 237
army for 1777, 261
troops, discontent of the, 3S1
American
[ndex.
imerican stores, large quantity of,
destroyed by Arnold, N° 358
stores, destruction of, 365
states, constitution of, 384
army, dismission of the, 386
government, executive, of¬
ficers in the, 394
husbandmen flood the land, 462
Americans, cruelty of the, 209
defeated with great slaugh¬
ter at Long Island, 238
abandon their camps in the
night, 239
greatly dispersed, 252
defeated, 261
detachment of the, surpri¬
sed and defeated with
great slaughter, 262
defeated at Germantown, 265
defeated by land and water, 271
defeated again, and aban¬
don Fort Anne, 272
retreat to Saratoga, 274
detachment of the, cut in
pieces, 276
attack the royal army, 282
with difficulty repulsed, 283
send agents to different
countries, 298
defeated at Briar Creek, 311
defeated at Port Royal, 315
unsuccessful expedition of
the, against Penobscot, 323
take vengeance on the In¬
dians, 327
reasons alleged by the, for
General Arnold’s con¬
duct, 348
defeated at Guildford, 361
embarrassments of the, 387
Ancients supposed to have had some
imperfect notions of the
new world, 106
Andre, Major, unhappy fate of, 345
amiable character of, 346
Animals, degeneracy of, asserted by
Buffon, 6
growth of, prevented by
moisture, considered, 65
growth of, encouraged by
moisture, asserted by Mr
Jefferson, 66
instinct of, altered by habit, 90
instinct of, altered by habit,
confirmed by an observa¬
tion on the Franks, 91
Antiquity, remains of, 105
Assemblies, public, 18
Assembly of New York disobeys an
act of parliament, 131
of Massachusets required to
rescind their circular let¬
ter by their governor, 135
refused to rescind their cir¬
cular letter, 136
AMERICA.
Assembly of Massachusets accuses the
governor, and petitions for
his removal, N° 137
general proceedings of this,
at Salem, 159
general, called, and dissol¬
ved by proclamation, 172
of Massachusets recommends
preparations for war, 177
B
Hank, national, 398
Bees, of, 441
Belts, or wampum, of, 19
Bill, declaratory, gives offence, 130
for the impartial administration
of justice, . 155
port, resentment occasioned by
the, 158
Quebec, disagreeable to those
whom it was intended to
please, 186
conciliatory, received with indig¬
nation by the British troops in
America, 301
conciliatory, despised by the co¬
lonists, 302
Birds, American, 135
Boston, tumult at, 348
assembly at, dissolved, 130
disturbances, at, increase, 140
troops ordered to, 141
convention of, formed, 142
convention of, dissolves, and
labours to vindicate its con¬
duct, > 143
mob, some people killed by
the soldiers at, 145
tea destroyed at, 151
punishment of, resolved upon, 153
petitions against punishment
of, 154
people of, generously treated
by the people of Salem, 160
cause of, espoused by all the
rest of the colonies, 161
solemn league and covenant
formed at, 163
governor at, attempts in vain
to counteract the solemn
league and covenant, 164
people of, generously treated
by the inhabitants of Mar¬
blehead, 167
people of, strongly beloved by
the country people, 168
neck of, fortified by General
Gage, 169
military stores, province of,
seized by General Gage, 170
inhabitants, distress of, 175
a great army assembles at, 179
troops in, distressed, 183
inhabitants, miserable situa¬
tion of the, 212
I35
Boston cannonaded by the provin¬
cials, N° 213
evacuated by the British, 214
fortifications of, strengthened, 215
Boundaries of America, 1
Breyman, Colonel, defeated, 281
Bridge, natural, a great curiosity, 426
Britain, confederacy against, joined
by Spain, 324
British possessions, vast extent of the,
before the late revolution, 120
colonies, state and character
of, at the end of the war
1763, 122
parliament, both houses of,
address the king against
America, 144
taxation, right of, denied by
Massachusets Bay assembly, 148
ministry attempt in vain to
arm the Indians, 187
general, humanity of the, 220
forces repulsed, 231
army, situation of the, at the
commencement of the war, 237
troops entirely overrun the
Jerseys, 248
regiments, three, attempt on, 255
three, make good
their retreat, 256
fleet sails for Philadelphia, 259
army lands at the head of the
Elk, 260
army attacked at German¬
town, 264
ships of war burnt, 266
army in danger of being sur¬
rounded, 290
army attempts a retreat, 291
army, distressed situation of
the, 292
army in the north obliged to
capitulate, 293
troops, predatory war carried
on by the, 300
commissioners, bad success of
the, 303
troops advance to Charles¬
town, 312
troops, hardships endured by
the, 362
admiral and general, misun¬
derstanding betwixt, 366
and French fleets, action be¬
twixt the, off the capes of
Virginia, 367
and Americans, several ac¬
tions betwixt the, 369
and French fleets, action be¬
tween the, off the Chesa-
Peak, 374.
troops, different places evacu¬
ated by the, 380
Ball, famous, of Paul III. 58
Bunker's Hill, battle at, 180
Burgoyne^..
136
Burgoyney General, joined by the In¬
dians, N° 269
proceeds to Fort Edward
with great difficulty, 273
distressed lor want of pro¬
visions, 278
attacks the provincial ma¬
gazines at Benning¬
ton, 279
capture of, occasions great
dejection, 295
troops of, detained in A-
merica, 299
Bu%%ardy turkey, 436
C
Calumnyt remarkable instance of, in
De Paw, 57
Canaday conquest of, attempted by the
Americans, 191
penetrated into by Colonel
Arnold, 196
inhabitants of, defeated by
the provincials, 218
Candles, spermaceti, 453
Carletotiy General, defeated, 193
Sir Guy arrives at New York
with powers to treat of
peace, ^ 378
Carolina, South and North, governors
of, expelled, 2H
North, inhabitants of, de¬
clare in favour of Bri¬
tain, 22j
royalists of, defeated, 226
invaded, 310
South, actions in, 349
Chamblee, fort of, taken, 192
Champlain, Lake, British send vessels
up, 250
Character,Indian, remarkable pensive¬
ness and taciturnity ofj 116
national, of the Americans, 470
Charlestown, British armament sent
against, 228
attacked by the fleet, 229
General Lincoln advan¬
ces to the relief of, 313
attempt on, abandoned, 314
expedition against, by
Sir Henry Clinton, 328
defended by Lincoln, ib.
surrenders to Sir Henry
Clinton, 331
Chiefs, Indian, terrible trials of, 14
Climate, moisture of, 3
account of, misrepresented, 7
proofs of its mildness, ib.
fui'ther described, 444
effects of, on the inhabitants, 445
Clinton, Sir Henry, letter of, to Ge¬
neral Burgoyne, with Bur-
goyne’s answer, 28 ^
Sir Henry, successful expedi¬
tion of> 294
AMERICA.
Clinton, Sir Henry, late arrival of, to
the succour of Lord Corn¬
wallis, N°376
Cod, fisheries of, 451
Cold, remarkable, 3
reasons for, 4
Colour of the natives, 10
remarkable difference of, ari¬
sing from accidental causes, 86
no characteristic of a different
species, 87
altered by different causes, 89
Columbus, representation of, 59
projects of, to discover a
new continent, 109
voyage of, no
astonishment of, on observ¬
ing the variation of the
compass, in
perilous situation of, 112
crews ready to mutiny, 113
crews, joy of, upon disco¬
vering land, 114
conduct of, upon landing
upon one of the islands
of the new world, 115
discovers the new conti¬
nent, 116
Communication between the old and
new continent, two
ways of, 9 2
Congress meets at Philadelphia, 165
transactions of, account of, 166
commissioners, speech of, to
the Indians, 188
announces the independence
of America, 216
proceedings of the, 337
difficulties of the, by the de¬
preciation of their paper
currency, 338
resolutions of, in consequence
of Carleton’s powers to
treat of peace, 379
Conolly, Mr, discovered and taken pri¬
soner, 208
Constitution new, proposal of, 388
Continents once joined, 94
reasons for, ib.
probable cause of separation, 95
separated by a narrow strait, 96
easiness of passage between, 97
Convention of Philadelphia, 389
Corn, Indian, 471
Cornwallis, Lord, victory of, over
General Gates, 342
exertions of, in North
Carolina, 334
marches through North
Carolina, 337
proclamation by, 368
critical situation of, 372
attempts to assist, ineffec-
tuaJ, 373
Indej
Cornwallis, danger of, increased, N® 33
surrender of, 37
Country well watered, 42
face of the, 42
irregularly settled, 4^
Crimes and punishments, q
Crown Point and Ticondera^o taken
by the Ameriba is, l£
Customs of the North Americans, i
D
Declaration on taking up arms, i£
Divisions into North and South,
Dress, peculiarities of, ]
D? 'esses and customs common to the
eastern Asiatics and Ame¬
ricans, ic
E .
Eloquence, Indian, specimen of, 7!
England, New, expedition against, 2f
Estaing, D’, proclamation of, 31
sails to the West Indies, 31
expedition of, against Geor¬
gia* 3J
absurd conduct of, 3]
Extent of America,
F
Federalists attached to Britain, 4c
Fever, yellow, 41
Figures painted on their bodies, ]
France and America, treaty betwixt, 2(
occasions great debates, 2C
disputes with, 41
Franklin, speech of, 3(1
Frazer, General, killed, 2$
French, intrigues of the, 1;
fleet arrives in America, 3c
fleet, attempt of the, against
Rhode Island, 3c
and American generals, cruel¬
ty of the, 3:
and Americans defeated, 3:
troops, large body of, land at
Rhode Island,
G
Gage, General, difficulties of, in ac¬
commodating his troops, 1*
Georgia, inhabitants of, accede to the
confederacy, id
expedition against, 3c
possession taken of, 3c
Germans defeated with great slaugh¬
ter, 2$
Government, form of, J
Grain, nature of, 4;
Greene, General, attacked in his
camp, and defeated tby
Lord Rawdon, 3(
defeated by Colonel Stuart, 3'
Guildford, battle at, 3<
H
Hedges, America destitute of, 4<
Honey, poisonous,
Hostilities commence betwixt Britain
and America, 2;
Hous
[ndex.
Houses of the, 477
Hou>e} General, lands on Staten
Island, and publishes a cir¬
cular letter calling the co¬
lonists to subjection, 234
Lord, sends a message to con¬
gress, 240
waited on by a committee of
the congress, 241
Lord, and committee of con¬
gress, unsuccessful confer¬
ence betwixt, 242
Hutchison, Governor, letters of, to
the British ministry dis¬
covered, 149
I
Jay, treaty of, 412
Indians desert, and force Colonel Le-
ger to raise the siege of
Stanwix, 277
desert from General Bur-
goyne, 284
war with the, 411
of the, 482
Indigo and cotton, of, 474
Insects, of, 8
size of, ib.
farther described, 440
Insensibility, remarkable, to pain, 12
Interior, lakes in the, 422
John, St, fort of, taken, 194
K
Kaiman, of the, 443
Knyphausen, General, unsuccessful ex¬
pedition of, in the Jer¬
seys, 341
L
Land, traffic of, 456
sales of, in large portions, 457
sales of, in small portions, 458
withheld from sale in the hopes
of a rise in its price, 459
remarkable speculations in the
purchase of, 460
Laurens, Mr, capture of, 350
Lee, General, taken prisoner, 453
Lexington, skirmish at, 178
Liberty, love of, 34
Lice, of, 8
Lincoln, General, reinforcements sent
to the relief of, intercept¬
ed, 330
Logan, story of, 76
London, New, expedition against, 371
Louisiana acquired, 419
M
Manners, peculiar, of different nations, 36
Maniifactures, American, 446
Mexican Indians, stature, shape, &.c. 48
not destitute of beard, 49
form and aspect of,
contrasted with
other nations, 50
VoL, II. Part I. f
AMERICA.
Mexican Indians, constitution and
corporeal abilities
of, N° 51
labour and industry
of, 52
healthiness and
strength of, pro¬
ved, _ 53
mental qualities of, 54
De Paw’s proofs of
the cowardice of, 55
De Paw’s account
of, refuted, 56
Migrations into the new continent, 98
Mr Pennant’s opinion of, 99
probably first from the
eastern parts of Asia, 100
from Asia, proved by a si¬
milarity of customs, 101
of the brute creation from
the old continent to the
new by the same route
as men, 104
of brutes, remarks con¬
cerning, ib.
Minerals, of, 429
Montgomery, General, killed, and the
Americans defeated, 198
Montreal taken, 195
Moravians, of the, 479
Morris, Captain, bravery of, 230
N
Natives, description of the, 9
their indolence, 11
quickness of sense, 24
vigilance, 25
manner of fighting, 26
character and contrast, 30
treatment of dead friends, 31
superstitions, 32
longevity, 37
vices and defects aggravated, 38
reproached with pusillanimity, 40
accused of perfidy, 41
understandings represented as
weak, ' 42
stupidity, 43
vanity and conceit, 44
eloquence disparaged, 45
partly misrepresented, 46
Buffon ami De Paw’s physi¬
cal description of the, re¬
futed, 47
conclusions concerning their
capacities, 60
ingenuity asserted, 61
science, tokens of, among, 62
morality, specimen of, 63
degeneracy of the, alleged, 70
observations by Mr Jefferson
on their degeneracy, 71
coldness to the sex accounted
for, 72
Natives, why few children,
their sensibility,
courage,
anecdotes,
politeness and civility,
hospitality,
137
N° 73
74
75
78
79
80
Lord Kaimes’s argument for
different species of, 81
Lord Kaimes’s hypothesis
concerning the different
species of, 82
Kaimes’s argument incom¬
plete, 83
general principles to be kept
in view in reasoning on the
different species of, 84
Lord Kaimes’s argument in¬
consistent, 85
Negroes, of the, 485
Niagara, description of, 421
Ninety-six, post of, laid siege to by
General Greene, but
without success, 364
Norfolk, town of, destroyed,- 210
Norwegian pretensions to the disco¬
very of America con¬
sidered, 108
O
Omoa, Fort, taken by the British, 325
evacuated by the British, 326
Opposition against Britain confirmed, 162
to British parliament still
increases, 171
more and more confirmed
against Britain, i8t
Parties, character of, 406
present state of, 4x7
Pearl-ashes, of, 448
Petition against Governor Hutchison
refused, 150
Pennsylvania line, revolt of the, 352
ineffectual attempts to
induce the, to join the
royal army, 353
Philadelphia taken possession of by
General Howe, 263
forts near, reduced, 267
evacuated, 304
American independence
celebrated at, 339
Pittsburg, rebellion at, 410
Political factions, 404
Potash works, 447
Prescot, General, taken prisoner, 258
President and vice-president, how
elected, 395
conduct of, 409
new, 4x4
Prisoners, treatment of, 27
shocking treatment of, 28
constancy of, 29
Proclamation by General Clinton, 336
S Provincials
138
Provincials defeated by General Carle-
ton, N° 219
pursued by General Carle-
ton, 221
pursued by General Bur-
goyne, _ 223
escape to Crown Point, 224
naval force of the, de¬
stroyed, 251
expedition of the, against
Ticonderago, 286
desperate attack of the, on
the roval army, 287
Q
Quadrupeds, aboriginals of Europe
and America, com¬
parative view of, 66
aboriginals of one only,
Table II. ib.
domesticated in Europe
and America, Table III. ib.
result view of, in Table I. 67
described, Table II. 68
described, Table III. 69
Quarrels between the people of Mas-
sachusets Bay and their
governor, 134
Quebec, attempt to surprise, by the
Americans, 197
siege of continued,. 2x7
R
Religion, of, 478
Republic, American, rise of the, 121
Resemblance between the Asiatics and
North Americans, 103
Revenge, remarkable instance of, 39
Rhode Island taken, 249
Rice, of, 47 5
Rivers, eastern, 423
S
Secretary of state, 396
Settlements, new, how formed, 465
children residing in the, apt
to be lost in the woods, 466
Settlers, frontier, always hostile to the
Indians, 483
Sheep, nature of 468
Shipbuilding, of, 430
Shakers, of the, 480
Skirmishes, different, between the Bri¬
tish and Americans, 359
Snakes, American, 437
the joint, 4^8
rattle, 439
Springs, salt, in Kentucky, 413
names of the, 43 2
mineral, 433
AMERICA.
Stacks of grain not made use of in A -
merica, N° 464
Stanwix, fort, besieged, 275
Staten Island attacked by the provin¬
cials, ^ 334
provincials make a pre¬
cipitate retreat from, 335
Stature, no proof of a different species, 88
Sugar-maple, 449
Sulphur and nitre found in the western
territory, 43°
Swine, nature of the, 469
T
Tarleton, Lieutenant-colonel, activity
of, 343
defeat of, 355
operations in consequence of
the defeat of, 35^
Tax, plan of, by Mr Townshend, 132
plan raises greater indignation
than even the stamp act, 133
tea, violently opposed, 147
Taxes, heavy, imposed, and other ob¬
noxious acts framed, 124
exasperate the Americans, 125
all removed except on tea, 146
Tea refused admittance in several
places, 152
Thomson, General, defeated and taken
by General Fraser, 222
Ticonderago besieged and taken, 270
Titles proposed, 405
Tobacco, of, 474
Trade, American, 454
foreign, 455
Treasury, of the, 397
Tankers, of the, 481
u
Union, articles of, betwixt the colo¬
nies, 184
United States, constitution of, 391
constitution of, additions
to the, 392
constitution of the, op¬
position against, 393
army of the, 399
law officers of the, 400
the mint of the, 401
description of the bound¬
aries of, 418
errors in the description
of the boundaries of, 419
V
Vegetables, of, 434
Vegetation, luxuriant, 6
Virginia, province of, disputes with
their governor, 200
Index,
Virginia, .Dunmore, governor of, sends
his family on hoard a man
of war, ]S° 201
governor of, fortifies his pa¬
lace, 202
governor of, argues in fa¬
vour of Lord North’s con¬
ciliatory plan, 203
governor of, retires on board.
a man of war, 204
governoi’ of, attempts to
reduce the province by
force, 20j
governor of, entirely defeat¬
ed, 206
plan of reducing, by Mr
. Conolly, . 207
Lord Dunmore finally driven
out of, 227
caverns in, 427
W
Warriors, dress of, 23
War, preparations for, 174
loss of men and treasure by the, 382
consequences of the, 383
Wars, of, 20
ceremonies before, 21
ensigns of, 22
Welsh, pretensions of the, to the dis¬
covery of America in the
12th century, 107
Western waters, 424
Wmen, condition of the, 33
Whale-fishery, 452
Wheat regarded in America as the
most valuable kind of grain, 472
Whites, of the, 489
Washington, George, appointed com¬
mander in chief, 189
refuses a letter from Lord
Howe, 235
is defeated at the White
Plains, 247
president, 403
name of, given to the fe¬
deral city, 416
Y
York, New, armament sent against, 233
abandoned by the provincials, 243
set on fire, 245
General Washington removes
farther from, 247
British excursions from, 257
apprehensions at, 332
forwardness of the inhabitants
of, to be enrolled for its de¬
fence 333
AMERICAN
Dcvc
Norm i
omerset
‘V. Will^
Sound
vrtfl/iftrti /a
PTI x\
A CUQW*
Jieren±
^foone ^
* 4?<^L
^ T1,
vporKXv, y
'■'-/. n
Kiu»iish Miles.
?enwi<
From Arrowsmith
TW/ii'W by A.GmstM* k C°. Edinburgh.
A M E [ 139 ] A M H
American AMERICAN NIGHT-SHADE. See PHYTOLACCA,
[J Botany Index.
Amethyft. American Ground-nut. See Arachis, Botany
Index.
AMERICUS Vespucius. See Vespucci.
AMERSFORT, a city in the Dutch province of
Utrecht, seated on the river Eras. E. Long. 5. 4.
N. Lat. 52. 14. The most remarkable objects are,
the townhouse ; the grand palace, which is triangular ;
the public walk, planted with trees ; and the great
church, dedicated to St George. The land to the east
and south of this city is veiy fruitful ; on the north
there is nothing but pasture ground, and on the west it
is woody. Not far from hence is a mountain called
Amersfort-berg, on which is planted a vista of trees,
which reaches to Utrecht.
AMERSHAM, or Agmondesham, a market town
in Buckinghamshire, with a free-school, and four alms¬
houses. It sends two members to parliament, and has
a market on Tuesday. It is a rectory rated at 48!.
16s. 8d. in the king’s books. The market-house is a
very handsome structure. Population in 1811, 2259.
W. Long. o. 35. .N. Lat. 51. 47.
AMES, William, D. D. a learned independent
divine, celebrated for his controversial writings, was
born in 1576, and educated at Christ’s college, in
Cambridge. In the reign of King James I. he left the
university, and soon after the kingdom, on account of
his being unwilling to conform to the rules of the
church } and retired to the Hague, where he had not
been long before he was invited to accept of the divi¬
nity chair in the university of Franeker, in Friesland,
which he filled with admirable abilities for above
twelve years. He from thence removed to Rotterdam
for a change of air which his health required ; and
here he continued during the remainder of his life. His
controversial writings, which compose the greatest part
of his works, are chiefly against Bellarmine and the
Arminians. He also wrote, 1. Afresh Suit against the
Ceremonies. 2. Lcctiones in Psahnos Davidis. 3. Me¬
dulla Theologtee ; and several pieces relative to the sci¬
ences. He died of an asthma at Rotterdam, in Novem¬
ber 1633.
Ames, Fishery an American political writer. See
Supplement.
AMESTRATUS, a town of Sicily (Cicero) j A-
mestratos (Stephanus) ; Amastra (Silius Italicus) ;
Multistratos (Polybius) : Now Mistretta, in the Val
di Demona, on the river Halesus. It was a very
strong fort of the Carthaginians, besieged in vain by
the Romans for seven months with considerable loss j
at length, after another siege, taken and razed (Dio¬
dorus Siculus).
AMETHYST, a transparent gem of a purple co¬
lour, which seems composed of a strong blue and a
deep red \ and, according as either of these prevails,
affording different tinges of purple, sometimes ap¬
proaching to violet, and sometimes even fading to a
pale rose colour. Though the amethyst is generally
of a purple colour, it is nevertheless sometimes found
naturally colourless, and may at any time be easily
made so by putting it into the fire ; in which pellucid
or colourless state, it so resembles the diamond, that
|ts want of hardness seems the only way of distinguish¬
ing it. Some derive the name amethyst from its co¬
lour, which resembles wine mixed with water ; whilst Amethyst
others, with more probability, think it got its name B
from its supposed virtue of preventing drunkenness ; an Afriiiar~
opinion which, however imaginary, prevailed to that
degree among the ancients, that it was usual for great
drinkers to wear it about their necks. Be this as it
will, the amethyst is scarcely inferior to any ol the
gems in the beauty of its colour j and in its purest
state is of the same hardness, and at least of equal va¬
lue, with the ruby and sapphire. It is found ol vari¬
ous sizes, from the bigness of a small vetch to an inch
and a half in diameter, and often to much more than
that in length. Its shape is extremely various, some¬
times roundish, sometimes oblong, and at others flat¬
ted, at least on one side \ but its most common appear¬
ance is in a crystalliform figure, consisting ol a thick
column, composed of four planes, and terminated by a
flat and short pyramid of the same number of sides j
or else, of a thinner and longer hexangular column ;
and sometimes of a long pyramid, without any column.
It makes the gayest figure in the last of these states,
but is hardest and most valuable in the roundish and
pebble-like form. The amethyst is found in the East
and West Indies, and in several parts of Europe; the
oriental ones, at least some of the finer specimens, be¬
ing so hard and bright as to equal any ol the coloured
gems in value. However, by far the greater number
of amethysts fall infinitely short of these*, as all the
European ones, and not a few of those brought from
the East and West Indies, are very little harder than
common crystal.
Counterfeit or Factitious Amethyst. Spars and cry¬
stals tinged red and yellow, &c. are sold for amethysts.
The false ones come from Germany, are tinged by va¬
pours in the mines, and contain lead.
Amethysts may be counterfeited by glass, to which
the proper colour or stain is given. There were fine
ones made in France about the year 1690, which may
even impose on connoisseurs, unless the stone be taken
out of the collet.—The method of giving this colour
to glass is directed as follows: Take crystal frit, made
with the most perfect and fine tarso : Then prepare a
mixture of manganese in powder, one pound j and zaf-
fre prepared, one ounce and a half: Mix these powders
well together ; and add to every pound of the frit an
ounce of this powder. Let it be put into the pots
with the frit, not into the prepared metal. When the
whole has stood long enough in fusion to be perfectly
pure, work it into vessels, and they will resemble the
colour of the amethyst.
Amethyst, in Heraldry, a term for the purple co¬
lour in the coat of a nobleman, in use with those who
blazon with precious stones, instead of metals and co¬
lours. This, in a gentleman’s escutcheon, is called Pur~
pure ; and in those of sovereign princes, Mercury.
AMETHYSTEA, Amethyst. See Botany Index.
AMETHYSTINE is applied, in antiquity, to a
kind of purple garment dyed of the hue of amethyst.
In this sense amethystine differed from Tyrian as well
as from hyacinthine purple, being a kind of medium
between.
AMHAR, or Amhara, a province of Abyssinia,
said to extend 40 leagues from east to west. It is
considered as the most noble in the whole empire, both
on account of its being the usual residence of the A-
S 2 byssinian
AMI [ 140 ] AMI
Amhar byssinian monarclis, and having a particular dialect dif-
U ferent from all the rest, which, by reason of the empe-
Arni<:abl<\ rors l)eing brought up in the province, is become the
y~ language of the court and of the politer people. Here
is the famed rock Amba-geshen, where the young mo-
narchs were formerly confined. See Amba and Abys¬
sinia.
AMHURST, Nicholas, an English poet and po¬
litical writer of the 18th century, was born at Mar-
den in Kent, and entered of St John’s college, Oxford j
from whence he was expelled for irregularity of con¬
duct and libertine principles. Retaining great resent¬
ment against the university on this account, he abused
its learning and discipline, and some of the most re¬
spectable characters in it, in a poem published in I724
called Oculus Britannice, and in a book entitled Terra:
Filins. He published, A Miscellany of Poems, sacred
and profane j and, The Convocation, a poem in five
cantos, which was a satire on the bishop of Bangor’s
antagonists. But he is best kbown for the share he
had in the political paper called The Craftsman :
though, after having been the drudge of his party
for near 20 years, he was so much forgotten in the
famous compromise of 1742 as if he had never been
born } and, when he died in that year of a broken
heart, was indebted to the charity of his booksellers
for a grave.
AMIANTHUS, or Earth-flax, in Minci'alogy,
a fibrous, flexible, elastic, mineral substance, consisting
of short, abrupt, and interwoven filaments. It is
found in Germany, in the strata of iron ore, sometimes
. forming veins of an inch in diameter. Its fibres are so
flexible that cloth has been made of them, and the
shorter filaments that separate in the washing of the
stone may be made into paper in the common manner.
For the method of its preparation for manufacture into
cloth, see Asbestos.
Amianthus is classed by Mr Kirwan in the muriatic
genus of earth, because it contains about a fifth part
of magnesia. Its other constituents are, flint, mild
calcareous earth, barytes, clay, and a very small pro¬
portion of iron. It is fusible per se in a strong heat,
and also with the common fluxes. See Mineralogy
Index.
AMICABLE, in a general sense, denotes any thing
done in a friendly manner, or to promote peace.
Amicable Benches, in Roman antiquity, were, ac-'
cording to Pitiscus, lower and less honourable seats al¬
lotted lor the judices pedanei, or inferior judges, who
upon being admitted of the emperor’s council, were
dignified by him with the title amici.
Amicable Numbers, denote pairs of numbers, of
which each of them is mutually equal to the sum
of all the aliquot parts of the other. So the first or
least pair of amicable numbers are 220 and 284 ; all
the aliquot parts of which, with their sums, are as fol¬
lows, viz.
of 220, they are 1, 2, 4, 5, 10, 11, 20, 22, 45, cc,
no, their sum - - . . - 284;
of 284, they are I, 2, 4, 71, 142, and their sum is 220.
The 2d pair ot amicable numbers are 17296 and
18416, which have also the same property as above.
And the third pair of amicable numbers are 9363584
Afld 9437°56.
These three pairs of amicable numbers were found
- - 3.
out by F. Schooten, sect. 9. of his Exercitationes Ma~ Amicabk
thematicce, who, it is said, first gave the name of ami- H
cable to such numbers, though such properties of num- Amili»'
bers, it seems, had before been treated of by Rudol- '' J
phus, Descartes, and others.
To find the first pair, Schooten puts 4* and 4yat, or
and for the two numbers where a—i; then
making each of these equal to the sum of the aliquot
parts of the other, gives two equations, from which are
found the values of x and z, and consequently assuming
a proper value for y, the two amicable numbers them¬
selves 4# and 4ys;.
In like manner for the other pairs of such numbers ;
in which he finds it necessary to assume i6x and i6y25
or a*x and a*yz for the 2d pair, and 128a* and 1282/2:
or a7x and a1yz for the third pair.
Schooten then gives this practical rule, from Des¬
cartes, for finding amicable numbers, viz. assume the
number 2, or some power of the number 2, such that
if unity or I be subtracted from each of these three fol¬
lowing quantities, viz.
from three times the assumed number,
also from 6 times the assumed number,
and from 18 times the square of the assumed number,
the three remainders may be all prime numbers j then
the last prime number being multiplied by double the
assumed number, the product will be one of the ami¬
cable numbers sought, and the sum of its aliquot parts
will be the other.
That is, if a be put = the number 2, and n some
integer number, such that 3a”—1, and 6an—1, and
180272—1, be all three prime numbers j then is 1 8«2»—1
X 2an one of the amicable numbers ; and the sum of
its aliquot parts is the other.
AMICTUS, in Roman antiquity, was any upper
garment worn over the tunica.
Amictus, among ecclesiastical writers, the upper¬
most garment anciently worn by the clergy ; the other
five being the alba, singulum, stola, manipulus, and pla-
neta. The amictus was a linen garment, of a square
figure, covering the head, neck, and shoulders, and
buckled, or clasped before the breast. It is still worn
by the religions abroad.
AMICULUM, in Roman. antiquity, a woman’s
upper garment, Which differed from the pala. It was
worn both by matrons and courtezans.
AMICUS curi^:, a larv term, to denote a by-stander
who informs the court of a matter in law that is doubt¬
ful or mistaken.
AMID-AMID, in Geography, a lofty ridge of
mountains in Abyssinia. See Abyssinia.
AM l DA, a god worshipped by the Japanese, who
has many temples erected to him in the island of Japan,
of which the principal is at Jeddo. The Japanese
have such a confidence in their idol Amida, that they
hope to attain eternal felicity by the frequent invoca^
tion of his name. One of the figures of this idol is
represented at Rome.
Amida, in Ancient Geography, a principal city of
Mesopotamia, otherwise called Ammaa; situated on
a high mountain, on the borders of Assyria, on the
Tigris, where it receives the Nymphius. It w'as ta¬
ken from the Romans, in the time of the emperor
Constans, by Sapores king of Persia. The siege is
said to have cost him 30,000 men $ however, he redu*v-
ced.
Amida,
4 mien s.
AMI [ 141 ] AM M
ccd it to such ruin, that the emperor afterwards wept
over it. According to Ammianus Marcellinus, the city
was razed j the chief oflicers were crucified j and the
rest, with the soldiers and inhabitants, either put to the
sword or carried into captivity, except our historian
himself, and two or three more, who, in the dead of
the night, escaped through a postern unperceived by
the enemy. The inhabitants of iNisibis, however,
being obliged to leave their own city by Jovian s tiea-
ty with the Persians, soon restored Amida to its for¬
mer strength, but it was again taken by Cavades in
501, but was restored to the Romans in ^‘e
declension of the Roman power, it fell again into the
hands of the Persians; but was taken from them by
the Saracens in 899. It is now in the possession of the
Turks. Here are above 20,000 Christians, who are
better treated by the Turks than in other places. A
great trade is carried on in this city of red Turkey lea¬
ther, and cotton cloth of the same colour. The Ara¬
bian name of Amida is JDicirbekw, and the lurkish one
Kard-Amed. E. Long. 39. o. IN. Lat. 36. 58.
AMIENS, a large handsome city of France, capital
of the department of Somme. It is agreeably situated
on the river Somme, and said to have received its La¬
tin name Ambianum from being everywhere encompas¬
sed with water. It is a place of great antiquity j being
mentioned by Caesar as a town that had made a vigorous
resistance against the Romans, and where he convened
a general assembly of the Gauls after having made him¬
self master of it. The emperors Antoninus and Mar¬
cus Aurelius enlarged it j and Constantine, Constans,
Julian, and several others, resided here a considerable
time. The town is encompassed with a wall and other
fortifications \ and the ramparts are planted with trees,
which form a delightful walk. -The river Somme en¬
ters Amiens by three different channels, under as many
bridges $ and these channels, after washing the town in
several places, where they are of use in its different
manufactures, unite at the other end by the bridge of
St Michael. Here is a quay for the boats that come
from Abbeville with goods brought by sea. At the
gate of Noyon there is a suburb remarkable for the
abbey of St Achen. Next to this gate you come to
that of Paris, where they have a long mall between
two rows of trees. The houses are well built j the
streets spacious, embellished with handsome squares
and good buildings \ and the number of inhabitants
in 1817 was 39,000. The cathedral, dedicated to our
Lady, is one of the largest and most magnificent
churches in France ; adorned with handsome paintings,
fine pillars, chapels, and tombs j particularly the nave
is greatly admired. The other places worth seeing
are the palace of the bailiwick, the town-house, the
square des Fleurs, and the great market place.
Amiens was taken by the Spaniards, in I597> ^7
the following stratagem : Soldiers, disguised like pea¬
sants, conducted a cart laden with nuts, and let a bag
of them fall just as the gate was opened. While the
guard was busy in gathering up the nuts, the Spaniards
entered and became masters of the town. It was re¬
taken by Henry IV. who built a citadel here, 'i he
definitive treaty of peace, entered into by the diflerent
European powers in 1802, was negociated here.
The town is the seat of a bishop, suffragan of Rheims,
as also of a presidial, bailiwick, vidam, a chamber of
accounts, and a generality. The bishop’s revenue is Amilcar
30,000 livres. They have some linen and woollen ^u^nii B
manufactures, and they also make a great quantity of
black and green soap. It lies in L. Long. 2. 18.
N. Lat. 49. ?3.
AMILCAR, the name of several Carthaginian cap¬
tains. The most celebrated of them is Amilcar Barcas,
the father of Hannibal, who, during five years, in¬
fested the coast of Italy j when the Romans sending
out their whole naval strength defeated him near Ira-
pani, 242 years before Christ j and this put an end to
the first Punic war. Amilcar began the second, and
landed in Spain, where he subdued the most warlike
nations; but as he was preparing for an expedition
against Italy, he was killed in battle, 218 years before
the Christian era. He left three sons, whom he had
educated, as he said, like three lions, to tear Rome in
pieces ; and made Hannibal, his eldest son, swear an
eternal enmity against the Romans.
AMILICTI, in the Chaldaic theology, denote a
kind of intellectual powers, or persons in the divine
hierarchy. The amilicti are represented as three in
number j and constitute one of the triads, in the third
order of the hierarchy.
AMIRANTE, in the Spanish polity, a great officer
of state, answering to our lord high admiral.
AMISUS, in Ancient Geography, the chief city of
the ancient kingdom of Pontus. It was built by the
Milesians, and peopled partly by them and partly by
a colony from Athens. It was at first a free city, like
the other Greek cities in Asia j but afterwards sub¬
dued by Pharnaces king of Pontus, who made it his
metropolis. It was taken by Lucullus in the M.ithri-
datic war, who restored it to its ancient liberty. Close
by Amisus stood another city called Eupatoria, from
Mithridates Eupator its founder. This city was like¬
wise taken by Lucullus, who levelled it with the
ground \ but it was afterwards rebuilt by Pompey,
who united it with Amisus, giving them the name of
Pompeiopolis. It was taken during the war between
Caesar and Pompey, by Pharnaces king of Pontus,
who put most of its inhabitants to the sword j but
Caesar, having conquered Pharnaces, made it again a
free city.
AMITERNUM, a town of the Sabines, in Italy
(Livy, Pliny) ; now extinct. The ruins are to be seen
on the level ridge of a mountain, near St Vittorino,
and the springs of the Aternus not far from Aquila,
which rose out of the ruins of Amiternum.
AMITTERE legem terra:, among lawyers, a
phrase importing the loss of liberty of swearing in any
court : The punishment of a champion overcome or
yielding in battle, of jurors found guilty in a writ of
attaint, and of a person outlawed.
AM-KAS, in History, a name given to a spacious
saloon in the palace of the Great Mogul, where he gave
audience to his subjects.
AMMA, among ecclesiastical writers, a term used
to denote an abbess or spiritual mother.
AMMAN, John Conrad, a Swiss physician. See
Supplement.
Amman, Paul, a German physican and botanist.
See Supplement.
Amman or Ammant, in the German and Belgic po¬
lity, a judge who has the cognizance of civil causes.
A M M [ 142 ] A M M
’Amman --It Is also used among the French for a public notary,
H or officer, who draws up instruments and deeds.
A*mianus. AMMANIA. See BoTANY Index.
y AMMI, Bishop’s-weed. See Botany Index.
AMMIANUS Marcellinus, a Boman historian
of the fourth century, was a native of Greece, born in
the city of Antioch. Having served several years in the
early part of his life in the army, he was afterwards
promoted to the honourable station of protector' domesti-
cus. In the year 350 he entered the service of Con¬
stantins, the emperor of the east, and, under the com¬
mand of Ursicinus, a general of the horse, he served
during several expeditions. According to his own mo¬
dest relation, it appears that he acquired considerable
military fame, and that he deserved well of his sove¬
reign. He attended the emperor Julian in his expedi¬
tion into Persia, but history is silent whether or not he
rose to any higher military rank than that which has
already been mentioned. He was either in the city or
the vicinity of Antioch when the conspiracy of Theo¬
doras was discovered, under the reign ofValens, and
was an eye-witness of the severe torments to which ma¬
ny pei’sons were exposed by the emperor on that account.
But his lasting reputation was not to be acquired
from military exertions. He left the army, and reti¬
red to Borne, where he employed his time and talents
in writing the history of that empire during the period
of three centuries. Though a native of Greece, he
wrote in the Latin language ; but, according to the re¬
mark of Vossius, his Latin shows that he was a Greek,
and also a soldier. His history begins with the reign
of Nerva, and continues to the death ofValens ; and
the work was originally divided into 31 books. Of
these the first 13 have perished, and the 18 which re¬
main commence with the 17th year of the reign of
Constantius, and terminate at the year 375. But there
are several facts mentioned in the history which prove
that the author was alive in the year 390. Of this
number are the accession of Theodosius to the eastern
empire, the character of Gratian, and the consulate of
Neothorius. Similar to the manner in which Herodo¬
tus, the father of Grecian history, read his history,
Alarcellinus read his hooks in public with general ap¬
probation. Some have reckoned the style harsh and
redundant, but this may easily be excused, from his
education and military life ; and the valuable informa¬
tion communicated abundantly compensates for that de¬
fect. Candour and impartiality are leading features
in his history. The character given him by Mr Gib¬
bon appears to be accurate, when he says that he is
“ an accurate and faithful guide, who composed the
history of his own times without indulging the preju¬
dices and passions which usually affect the mind of a
contemporary.”
A difference of opinion has obtained, whether or
not our historian was a Christian or a Pagan. But the
respectful manner in which he speaks of Pagan deities,
and of the advantage of heathen auguries to foretel fu¬
ture events, render it abundantly evident that he was
a heathen. The favourable account which he gives of
the religion, manners, and fortitude of Christians, are
the result of his candour and impartiality as an histo¬
rian. I he work of Marcellinus has passed through
several editions j but that printed at Leyden in 1693,
Araraan.
with explanatory notes, is esteemed the best. (Gen. Anunmnu
Biog.').
AMMIBATO, Scipio, an eminent Italian histo¬
rian, born at Lecca in Naples in 1531. After travel¬
ling over great part of Italy, without settling to his
satisfaction, he was engaged by the great duke of
Tuscany to write The History of Florence ; for which
he was presented to a canonry in the cathedral there.
He wrote other works while in this station: and died
in 1600.
AMMOCHBYSOS, from up.fx.of sand, and x^vtros
gold, a name given by authors to a stone very common
in Germany, and seeming to be composed of a golden
sand. It is of a yellow gold-like colour, and its par¬
ticles are very glossy, being all fragments of a coloured
talc. It is usually so soft as to be easily rubbed to a
powder in the hand; sometimes it requires grinding to
powder in a mortar, or otherwise. It is used only as
sand to strew over writing. The Germans call it kat-
•zerigold. There is another kind of it less common, but
much more beautiful, consisting of the same sort of
glossy spangles $ not however of a gold colour, but of
a bright red like vermilion.
AMMODYTES, or Sand-eel. See Ichthyo¬
logy Index.
AMMON, anciently a city of Marmarica (Ptole¬
my). Arian calls it a place, not a city, in which
stood the temple of Jupiter Ammon, round which there
was nothing but sandy wastes. Pliny says, that the
oracle of Ammon was 12 days journey from Memphis,
and among the Nomi of Egypt he reckons the Homos
Ammoniacus : Diodorus Siculus, That the district where
the temple stood, though surrounded with deserts, was
watered by dews which fell nowhere else in all that
country. It was agreeably adorned with fruitful trees
and springs, and full of villages. In the middle stood
the Acropolis or citadel, encompassed with a triple
wall ; the first and inmost of which contained the pa¬
lace ; the others the apartments of the women, the re¬
lations and children, as also the temple of the god, and
the sacred fountains for lustrations. Without the Acro¬
polis stood, at no great distance, another temple of
Ammon, shaded by a number of tall trees: near which
there was a fountain, called that of the sun, or Solis
Fans, because subject to extraordinary changes accord¬
ing to the time of the day ; morning and evening
warm, at noon cold, at midnight extremely hot. A
kind of fossil salt was said to be naturally produced
here. It wras dug out of the earth in large oblong
pieces, transparent as crystal. It was thought to be a
present worthy of kings, and used by the Egyptians
in their sacrifices.—From this our sal ammoniac has
taken its name. See Siwah.
Ammon, or Hammon, in heathen mythology, the
name of the Egyptian Jupiter, worshipped under the
figure of a ram.
Bacchus having subdued Asia, and passing with his
army through the deserts of Africa, was in great wrant
of water : but Jupiter, his father, assuming the shape
of a ram, led him to a fountain, where he refreshed
himself and his army ■, in gratitude for which favour,
Bacchus built there a temple to Jupiter, under the title
ol Ammon, from the Greek uppof, which signifies sand,
alluding to the sandy desert where it was built. In
this
2
A M M [143] A M M
Ammon this temple was an oracle of great note, which Alex-
|| ander the Great consulted, and which lasted till the
tmmonlao. tjme 0f Theodosius.
' rmmm> Hammon the god of the Egyptians, was the same.
with the Jupiter of the Greeks j for which reason these
latter denominate the city which the Egyptians call
No-Hammon, or the habitation of Ammon, Diospolis
or the city of Jupiter. He is thought to be the same
with Ham, who peopled Africa, and was the father of
Mizraim, the founder of the Egyptians.
Ammon, or Ben-Ammi, the son of Lot, was the fa¬
ther of the Ammonites, and dwelt to the east of the
Dead sea, in the mountains of Gilead. See Ammoni-
tis and Ammonites.
Ammon, or Ammonius, Andreas, an excellent La¬
tin poet, born at Lucca in Italy, was sent by Pope Leo
X. to England, in the characters of prothonotary of
the apostolic see, and collector-general of that king¬
dom. He was a man of singular genius and learning,
and soon became acquainted with the principal literati
of those times j particularly with Erasmus, Colet, Gro-
cin, and others, for the sake of whose company he re¬
sided some time at Oxford. The advice which Eras¬
mus gives him, in regard to pushing his fortune, has a
good deal of humour in it, and was certainly intended
as a satire on the artful methods generally practised by
the selfish and ambitious part of mankind : “ In the
first place (says he), throw off all sense of shame j thrust
yourself into every one’s business, and elbow out whom¬
soever you can, neither love nor hate any one; mea¬
sure every thing by your own advantage j let this be
the scope and drift of all your actions. Give nothing
but what is to be returned with usury, and be complai¬
sant to every body. Have always two strings to your
bow. Feign that you are solicited by many from
abroad, and get every thing ready for your departure.
Show letters inviting you elsewhere, with great promi¬
ses.” Ammon was Latin secretary to Henry VIII.
but at what time he was appointed does not appear. In
1512 he was made canon and prebendary of the colle¬
giate chapel of St Stephen, in the palace of Westmin¬
ster. He was likewise prebendary of Wells j and in
1514 was presented to the rectory of Dychial in that
diocese. About the same time, by the king’s special
recommendation, he was also made prebendary of Sa¬
lisbury. He died in the year 1517, and was buried in
St Stephen’s chapel in the palace of Westminster. He
was esteemed an elegant Latin writer, and an admi¬
rable poet. The epistles of Erasmus to Ammon abound
with encomiums on his genius and learning. His works
are, 1. Epistolce ad Erasmum, lib. i. 2. Scoticiconjlic-
tus historia, lib. i. 3. Bucolicce vel eclogce, lib. i. Ba¬
sil, 1546, 8vo. 4. De rebus nihil, lib. i. 5. Panegy-
ricus qaidam, lib. i. 6. Varii generis epigrammata,
lib. i. q. Poemuta diversa, lib. i.
AMMONIA, or Volatile Alkali. See Che¬
mistry Index.
AMMONIAC, a concrete gummy resinous juice,
brought from the East Indies, usually in large masses,
composed of little lumps or tears, of a milky colour,
but soon changing, upon being exposed to the air, to a
yellowish hue. We have no certain account of the
plant which affords this juice : the seeds usually found
among the tears resemble those of the umbelliferous
class. It has been, however, alleged, and not without
some degree of probability, that it is an exudation Ammoniac*
from a species of the FERULA, another species of which —v—^
produces the asafoetida. The plant producing it is said
to grow in Nubia, Abyssinia, and the interior parts
of Egypt. It is brought to the western parts of Eu¬
rope from Egypt, and to England from the Red sea,
by some of the ships belonging to the East India Com¬
pany trading to those parts. Such tears as are large,
dry, free from little stones, seeds, or other impurities,
should be picked out, and preferred for internal use ;
the coarser kind is purified by solution and colature,
and then carefully inspissating it unless this be art¬
fully managed, the gum will lose a considerable deal
of its more volatile parts. There is often vended in
the shops, under the name of strained gum ammonia-
cum, a composition of ingredients much inferior in
virtue.
Ammoniac has a nauseous sweet taste, followed by a
bitter one: and a peculiar smell, somewhat like that of
galbanum, but more grateful j it softens in the mouth,
and grows of a whiter colour upon being chewed.
Thrown upon live coals, it burns away in flame : it is
in some measure soluble in water and in vinegar, with
which it assumes the appearance of milk j but the re¬
sinous part, amounting to about one half, subsides on
standing.
Ammonium is a useful deobstruent, and frequently
prescribed for opening obstructions of the abdominal
viscera, and in hysterical disorders occasioned by a de¬
ficiency of the menstrual evacuations. It is likewise
supposed to deterge the pulmonary vessels j and proves
of considerable service in some kinds of asthmas, where
the lungs are oppressed by viscid phlegm 5 in this inten¬
tion, a solution of gum ammoniac in vinegar of squills
proves a medicine of great efficacy, though not a little
unpleasant. In long and obstinate colics proceeding
from viscid matter lodged in the intestines, this gummy
resin has produced happy effects, after the purges and
the common carminatives had been used in vain. Am¬
moniac is most commodiously taken in the form of pills j
about a scruple may be given every night, or oftener.
Externally, it softens and ripens hard tumors : a solu¬
tion of it in vinegar stands recommended by some for
resolving even scirrhous swellings. A plaster made of
it and squill-vinegar is recommended by some in white
swellings. A dilute mixture of the same is likewise
rubbed on the parts, which are also fumigated with the
smoke of juniper berries. In the shops is prepared a
solution of it in pennyroyal water, called from its mil¬
ky colour lac ammoniaci. It is an ingredient also in
the squill pills.
Sal Ammoniac, the old name of muriate of ammo¬
nia, a native salt, composed of ammonia, or volatile al¬
kali, and muriatic acid, which was generated in those
large inns or caravanseras where the crowd of pilgrims
coming from the temple of Jupiter Ammon used to
lodge j who, in those parts, travelling upon camels,
and those creatures when in Cyrene, a province of
Egypt, where that celebrated temple stood, urining
in the stables, or (say some) in the parched sands,
out of this urine, which is remarkably strong, arose
a kind of salt, denominated sometimes (from the
temple) Ammoniac, and sometimes (from the country)
Cyrenaic. Since the cessation of these pilgrimages, no .
more of this salt is produced there } and, from this de-
ficieney,,
A M M [ 144 ] A M M
Ammoniac ficiency, some suspect there never was any such thing:
II But this suspicion is removed, hy the large quantities
Ammo- a sa[^ nearly of the same nature, thrown out by
, , Mount ^tna. The modern sal ammoniac is entirely
factitious. See Chemistry Index, and Sal Ammo¬
niac, Supplement.
AMMONIAN philosophy. See Ammonius.
AMMONITiE, in Natural History. See Cornu
Ammonis.
AMMONITES, a people descended from Ammon
the son of Lot. The Ammonites destroyed those
giants which they called Zamzummims (Deut. ii. 19
—21.), and seized upon their country. God forbade
Moses, and by him the children of Israel {id. 19.),
to attack the Ammonites j because he did not intend
to give their lands unto the Hebrews. Before the Is¬
raelites entered the land of Canaan, the Amorites had
bv conquest got great part of the countries belonging
to the Ammonites and Moabites. This Moses retook
from the Amorites, and divided between the tribes ot
Gad and Reuben. In the time of Jephtha, the Am¬
monites declared war against the Israelites (Judg. xi.),
under pretence that they detained a great part of the
country which had formerly been theirs before the
Amorites possessed it. .Tephtha declared, that as this
was an acquisition which the Israelites had made in a
inst war, and what they had taken from the Amorites,
who had long enjoyed it by right of conquest, he was
under no obligation to restore it. The Ammonites
were not satisfied with this reason j wherefore Jephtha
gave them battle and defeated them. The Ammonites
and Moabites generally united whenever there was any
design set afoot of attacking the Israelites. After
the death of Othniel {id. iii.), the Ammonites and
Amalekites joined with Eglon king of Moab to op¬
press the Hebrews j whom they subdued, and governed
for the space of 18 years, till they were delivered by
Ehud the son of Gera, who slew Eglon king of Moab.
Some time after this, the Ammonites made war against
the Israelites, and greatly distressed them. But these
were at last delivered by the hands of Jephtha ; w'ho
having attacked the Ammonites, made a very great
slaughter among them (Judges xi.). In the beginning
of Saul’s reign (1 Sam. xi.), Nahash king of the Am¬
monites having sat down before Jabesh-gilead, reduced
the inhabitants to the extremity of demanding a capi¬
tulation. Nahash answered, that he would capitulate
with them upon no other conditions than their sub¬
mitting to have every one his right eye plucked out,
that so they might be made a reproach to Israel: but
Saul coming seasonably to the relief of Jabesh, deli¬
vered the city and people from the barbarity of the
king of the Ammonites. .David had been the king of
Ammon’s friend •, and after the death of this prince,
he sent ambassadors to make his compliments of con¬
dolence to Hanun his son and successor \ who, ima¬
gining that David’s ambassadors were come as spies to
observe his strength, and the condition of his king¬
dom, treated them in a very injurious manner (2 Sam.
x. 4.). David revenged this indignity thrown upon
his ambassadors, by subduing the Ammonites, the
Moabites, and the Syrians their allies. Ammon and
Moab continued under the obedience of the kings
David and Solomon ; and, after the separation of the
ten tribes, were subject to the kings of Israel till the
death of Ahab in the year of the world 3107. Two Ammonites
years after the death of Ahab, Jehoram his son, and ||
successor of Ahaziah, defeated the Moabites (2 Kings Ammonius. I
iii.) but it does not appear that this victory was so J
complete as to reduce them to his obedience. At the
same time, the Ammonites, Moabites, and other peo¬
ple, made an irruption into the lands belonging to
Judah ; but were forced back and routed by Jehosha-
phat (2 Ch. xx. 1, 2.). After the tribes of Reuben,
Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh, were carried in¬
to captivity by Tiglath-pilneser in the year 3264, the
Ammonites and Moabites took possession of the cities
belonging to these tribes. Jeremiah (xlix. J.) re¬
proaches them for it. The ambassadors of the Ammo¬
nites were some of those to whom this prophet (chap,
xxvii. 2—4.) presented the cup of the Lord’s fury, and
directed to make bonds and yokes for themselves j ex¬
horting them to submit themselves to Nebuchadnezzar,
and threatening them, if they did not, with captivity
and slavery. Ezekiel (xxv. 4 — 10.) denounces their
entire destruction $ and tells them that God would give
them up to the people of the east, who should set their
palaces in their country, so that there should be no more
mention of the Ammonites among the nations. It is
believed that these misfortunes happened to the Am¬
monites in the fifth year after the taking of Jerusalem,
when Nebuchadnezzar made war against all the people
that dwelt upon the confines of Judea, in the year of
the world 3420.
It is also thought probable, that Cyrus gave the
Ammonites and Moabites the liberty of returning into
their own country, from whence they had been remov¬
ed by Nebuchadnezzar j for we see them in the place
of their former settlement, exposed to those revolu¬
tions which were common to the people of Syria and
Palestine ; subject sometimes to the kings of Egypt,
and at other times to the kings of Syria. We are
told by Polybius, that Antiochus the Great took Rab-
both, or Philadelphia, their capital, demolished the
walls, and put a garrison in it in 3806. During the per¬
secutions of Antiochus Epiphanes, Josephus informs us,
that the Ammonites showed their hatred to the Jews,
and exercised great cruelties against such of them as
lived about their country. Justin Martyr says, That
in his time there were still many Ammonites remain¬
ing ; but Origen assures us, that when he was living
they were known only under the general name of
Arabians. Thus was the prediction of Ezekiel (xxv.
10.) accomplished ; who said that the Ammonites
should be destroyed in such a manner as not to be re¬
membered among the nations.
AMMONITIS, in Ancient Geography, a country of
Arabia Petraea, occupied by the children of Ammon,
whence the appellation. Its limits partly to the west
and partly to the north were the river Jabbok, whose
course is nowhere determined j though Josephus says,
that it runs between Rabboth-Ammon or Philadelphia,
and Gerase, and falls into the Jordan.
AMMONIUS, surnamed Saccas, was born in Alex¬
andria, and flourished about the beginning of the third
century. He W'as one of the most celebrated philoso¬
phers of his age j and, adopting with alterations the
Ecclectic philosophy, laid the foundation of that sect
which was distinguished by the name of the New Pla¬
tonics. See Ecclectics and Platonism.
This
A M M
[ 145 3
AMO
This learned man was born of Christian parents, and
educated in their religion ; the outward profession of
which, it is said, he never entirely deserted. As his
genius was vast and comprehensive, so were his projects
bold and singular : For he attempted a general coali¬
tion of all sects, whether philosophical or religious, by
framing a system of doctrines which he imagined cal¬
culated to unite them all, the Christians not excepted,
in the msst perfect harmony. In pursuance of this
design, he maintained, that the great principles of all
philosophical and religious truth were to be found
equally in all sects ; that they differed from each other
only in their method of expressing them, and in some
opinions of little or no importance j and that, by a
proper interpretation of their respective sentiments,
they might easily he united into one body. Accord¬
ingly all the Gentile religions, and even the Christian,
were to be illustrated and explained by the principles
of this universal philosophy ; and the fables of the
priests wrere to be removed from Paganism, and the
comments and interpretations of the disciples of Jesus
from Christianity. In conformity to this plan, he in¬
sisted, that all the religious systems of all nations should
he restored to their original purity, and reduced to
their primitive standard, viz. the ancient philosophy
of the east, preserved uncorrupted by Plato : and he
affirmed, that this project was agreeable to the inten¬
tions of Jesus Christ j whose sole view in descending
upon earth was to set bounds to the reigning super¬
stition, to remove the errors that had blended them¬
selves with the religions of all nations, but not to abo¬
lish the ancient theology from which they were deri¬
ved. He therefore adopted the doctrines which were
received in Egypt concerning the universe and the
Deity, considered as constituting one great whole ;
concerning the eternity of the world, the nature of
souls, the empire of Providence, and the government
of the world by demons. He also established a system
of moral discipline ; which allowed the people in ge¬
neral to live according to the laws of their countrv and
the dictates of nature j but required the wise to exalt
their minds by contemplation, and to mortify the body,
so that they might be capable of enjoying the presence
and assistance of the demons, and of ascending after
death to the presence of the Supreme Parent. In or¬
der to reconcile the popular religion, and particularly
the Christian, with this new system, he made the whole
history of the Heathen gods an allegory •, maintaining
that they were only celestial ministers, entitled to an
inferior kind of worship. And he acknowledged that
Jesus Christ was an excellent man, and the friend of
God ; but alleged that it was not his design entirely
to abolish the worship of demons, and that his only
intention was to purify the ancient religion. This sy¬
stem, so plausible in its first rise, but so comprehensive
and complying in its progress, has been the source of
innumerable errors and corruptions in • the Christian
church. At its first establishment it is said to have
had the approbation of Athenagoras Pantaenus, and
Clemens the Alexandrian, and all who had the care
ol the public school belonging to the Christians at
Alexandria. It was afterwards adopted by Longinus
the celebrated author of the treatise on the Sublime,
Plotinus, Herennius, Origen, Porphyry, Jamblichus
the disciple ot Porphyry, Sopater, Edisius, Eustathius,
Vol. II. Part I. ' f
Aniotttons.
Maximus of Ephesus, Priscus, Chrysanthius the master Ammonius.
of Julian, Julian the Apostate, Hierocles, Proclus, and
many others both Pagans and Christians.
The above opinions of Ammonius are collected from
the writings and disputations of his disciples the mo¬
dern Platonics : for he himself left nothing in writing
behind him ; nay, he imposed a law upon his disciples
not to divulge his doctrines among the multitude j
which injunction, however, they made no scruple to
neglect and violate.
AMMUNITION, a general name for all warlike
provisions; but more particularly powder, ball, &c.
Ammunition, arms, utensils of war, gunpowder, im¬
ported without license from his majesty, are, by the
laws of England, forfeited, and triple the value. And
again, such license obtained, except for furnishing his
majesty’s public stores, is to be void, and the offender
to incur a premunire, and to be disabled to hold any
office of the crown.
Ammunition Bread, Shoes, &c. such as are served
out to the soldiers of an army or garrison.
AMNESTY, in matters of policy, denotes a par¬
don granted by a prince to his rebellious subjects, usu¬
ally with some exceptions; such was that granted by
Charles II. at bis restoration.—The word is formed
from the Greek ctftwrTtx, the name of an edict ot this
kind published by Thrasybulus, on his expulsion of the
tyrants out of Athens.
AMNIOS, in Anatomy, a thin pellucid membrane
which surrounds the foetus in the womb. See IOE-
TUS.
AMOEBiEUM, in ancient poetry, a kind of poem
representing a dispute between two persons, who are
made to answer each other alternately \ such are the
third and seventh of Virgil’s eclogues.
AMOL, a town of Asia,, in the country of the Us-
becks, seated on the river Gihon. E. Long. 64. 30.
N. Lat. 39. 20.
AMOMUM, Ginger. See Botany Index.
Amomum Vulgare. See Sium, Botany Index.
AMONTONS, William, an ingenious experimen¬
tal philosopher, the son of a lawyer of Normandy, was
horn at Paris in the year 1663. From his childhood he
laboured under the infirmity of extreme dulness, which
led him to amuse himself, in the want of society, by stu¬
dying geometry and mechanics. He learned designing
and surveying, and was employed in many public works.
He presented to the Academy of Sciences, in the year
1687, an hygrometer upon a new construction, which
was highly approved. In 1696, he published in French,
a treatise, entitled, “ Observations on a new Hour-Glass,
and Barometers, Thermometers, and Hygrometers.”
This work was dedicated to the Academy of Sciences,
of which he became a member in the 'year 1699.
Upon his admission, he read a paper on friction, in
which a new theory upon that subject is proposed : the
paper will be found in the memoirs of the academy.
He discovered a method of conveying intelligence
speedily to a great distance by means of signals, from one
person to another, placed at as great a distance as they
could be seen by means of telescopes : he may therefore
be esteemed the inventor of the telegraph. This in¬
genious man, who was distinguished for his ingenuity
in inventing, and his accuracy in executing experiments,
died in the year 1705. His pieces, which are numerous,
T and
Am one'in*
AMO [ 146 ] AMO
and on various subjects, as air, fire, barometers, pumps,
&c. may be found in the volumes of the Memoirs of
the Academy of Sciences. {Gen. Biog.').
AMOEAEANS, a sect or order of Gemaric doctors,
or commentators; on the Jerusalem Talmud. The A-
morseans succeeded the Mischnic doctors. They sub¬
sisted 250 years j and were succeeded by the Sebu-
raeans.
AMORGOS, or Amurgus, in Ancient Geography,
now Morgo, not far from Naxus to the east, one ot the
European Sporades; the country ot Simonides the
iambic poet. To this island criminals were banished.
It was famous for a fine flax called Emorgis.
AMORITES, a people descended from Amor-
rhseus, according to the Septuagint and Vulgate ; E-
morseus, according to other expositors ; Haemori, ac¬
cording to the Hebrew j or Emorites, according to our
version of the Bible, who was the fourth son of Ca¬
naan, Gen. x. 16.
The Amorites first of all peopled the mountains ly¬
ing to the west of the Dead sea. They had likewise
establishments to the east of the same sea, between the
brooks of Jabbok and Arnon, from whence they for¬
ced the Ammonites and Moabites, Numb. xiii. 30. xvi.
29. Josh. v. 1. and Judges xi. 19. 20. Moses made a
conquest of this country from their kings Sihon and
Og, in the year of the world 2553.
The prophet Amos (ii. 9.) speaking of the gigan¬
tic stature and valour of the Amorites, compares their
height with that of cedars, and their strength with
that of an oak. The name Amorite is often taken in
Scripture for all Canaanites in general. The lands
which the Amorites possessed on this side Jordan were
given to the tribe of Judah, and those which they had
enjoyed beyond this river were distributed between the
tribes of Reuben and Gad.
AMORIUM, a town of Phrygia Major, near the
river San gar i us, on the borders of Galatia.—It was
taken from the Romans by the Saracens in 668 j but
soon after retaken by the Romans. A war break¬
ing out again between these two nations in 837, the
Roman emperor Theophilus destroyed Sozopetra the
birthplace of the caliph AT Motasem, notwithstand¬
ing his earnest entreaties to him to spare it. This so
enraged the caliph, that he ordered every one to en¬
grave upon his shield the word Amorium, the birth¬
place of Theophilus, which he resolved at all events
to destroy. Accordingly he laid siege to the place, but
met with a vigorous resistance. At length, after a siege
of 55 days, it was betrayed by one of the inhabitants
who had abjured the Christian religion. The caliph,
exasperated at the loss he had sustained during the
siege, put most of the men to the sword, carried the
women and children into captivity, and levelled the
city with the ground. His forces being distressed for
want of water on their return home, the Christian pri¬
soners rose upon some of them and murdered them ;
upon which the caliph put 6000 of the prisoners to
death. According to the eastern historians, 30,000 of
the inhabitants of Amorium were slain, and as many
carried into captivity.
AMORPHA, False Indigo. See Botany In-
cfevr*
AMORTIZATION, in Zaiv, the alienation of
lands or tenements to a corporation or fraternity and Amos,
their successors. See Mortmain.
AMOS, the fourth of the smaller prophets, who in
his youth had been a herdsman at Tekoa, a small town
about four leagues southward of Jerusalem, was sent
to the king of Bashan, that is, to the people of Sa¬
maria, or the kingdom of Israel, to bring them back to
repentance and an amendment of their lives ; whence
it is thought probable that he was born within the ter- .
ritories of Israel, and only retired to Tekoa on his be¬
ing driven from Bethel, by Amaziah the priest of the
golden calves at Bethel.
The prophet being thus returned to Tekoa, in the
kingdom of Judah, continued to prophesy. He com¬
plains in many places of the violence oflered him, by
endeavouring to oblige him to silence. He boldly re¬
monstrates against the crying sins that prevailed among
the Israelites, as idolatry, oppression, wantonness, and
obstinacy. He likewise reproves those of Judah, such
as their carnal security, sensuality, and injustice. He
terrifies them both with frequent threatenings, and pro¬
nounces that their sins will at last end in the ruin of
Judah and Israel, which he illustrates by the visions of
a plumb-line and a basket of summer-fruit. It is ob¬
servable in this prophecy, that as it begins with de¬
nunciation of judgment and destruction against the Sy¬
rians, Philistines, Tyrians, and other enemies of the
Jews, so it concludes with comfortable promises of re¬
storing the tabernacle of David, and erecting the king¬
dom of Christ. Amos was chosen to the prophetic of¬
fice in the time of Uzziah king of Judah, and Jero¬
boam the son of Joash king of Israel, two years be¬
fore the earthquake (Amos i. 1.), which happened in
the 24th or 25th year of Uzziah, according to the
rabbins and most of the modern commentators 5 or the
year of the world 3219, when this prince usurped the
priest’s office, and attempted to offer incense to the
Lord : but it is observed, that this cannot be the case,
because Jotham the son of Uzziah, who was born in
3221, was of age to govern, and consequently was be¬
tween 15 and 20 years of age, when his father under¬
took to offer incense, and was struck with a leprosy.
The first of the prophecies of Amos, in order of
time, are those of the 7 th chapter : the rest he pronoun¬
ced in the. town of Tekoa, whither he retired. He
foretold the misfortunes which the kingdom of Israel
should fall into after the death of Rehoboam II. who
was then living j he foretold the death of Zecha-
riah, the invasion of the lands belonging to Israel
by Pul and Tiglath-pilneser kings of Assyria: and
he speaks of the captivity of the ten tribes, and their
return.
The time and manner of this prophet’s death are
not known. Some old authors relate that Amaziah,
priest of Bethel, provoked by the discourses of the
prophet, had his teeth broke, in order to silence him.
Others say, that Hosea or Uzziah, the son of Ama¬
ziah, struck him with a stake upon the temples,
knocked him down, and wounded him much 5 in
which condition he was carried to Tekoa, where he
died, and was buried with his fathers $ but it is gene¬
rally thought that he prophesied a long time at Tekoa,
after the adventure which he had with Amaziah j and
the prophet himself taking no notice of the ill treat¬
ment
2
AMP [H7] AMP
A nient which he is said to have received, is an argument
U ' that lie did not suffer in the manner they relate,
mphia- St Jerome observes, that there is nothing great or
raus‘ sublime in the style of Amos. He applies the words
-v St Paul (2 Cor. vi. 6.) to him, ‘ rude in speech
though not in knowledge.’ And he farther observes,
that he borrows his comparisons from the state and pro¬
fession to which he belonged.
AMOY, an island in the province of lokien, in
China, where the English had a factory: but they have
abandoned it on account of the impositions of the inha¬
bitants. E. Long. 118. o. N. Lat. 24. 30. It has a
fine port, that will contain many thousand vessels. The
emperor has a garrison here of 7000 men.
AMPELIS, the Vine. See V itis, Botany Index.
Ampelis, the Chatterer. See Ornithology In¬
dex.
AMPELITES, Cannel-coal, or Candle-coal,
a hard, opaque, fossil, inflammable substance, of a black
colour. It does not effervesce with acids. The am-
pelites, though much inferior to jet in many respects,
is yet a very beautiful fossil ; and, for a body of so
compact a structure, remarkably light. Examined
bv the microscope, it appears composed of innumerable
very thin and small plates, laid closely and firmly on
one another ; and full of very small specks of a blacker
and more shining matter than the rest, which is evi¬
dently a purer bitumen than the general mass. These
specks are equally diffused over the difl’erent parts of
the masses. There is a large quarry of it near Alen-
§011 in France. It is dug in many parts of England,
but the finest is in Lancashire and Cheshire ; it lies
usually at considerable depths. It makes a very brisk
fire, flaming violently for a short time, and after that
continuing red and glowing hot a long while j and
finally is reduced into a small proportion of gray ashes,
the greater part of its substance having flown off in the
burning. It is capable of a very high and elegant po¬
lish \ and in the countries where it is produced, is turn¬
ed into a vast number of toys, as snuff-boxes and the
like, which bear all the nicety of turning, and are made
to pass for jet. Husbandmen smear their vines with it,
as it kills the vermin which infests them. It is like¬
wise used for the dyeing of hair black. In medicine,
it is reputed good in colics, against worms, and as be¬
ing in general an emollient and discutient j but the pre¬
sent practice takes no notice of it.
AMPELUSIA, in Ancient Geography, a promon¬
tory of Mauritania Tingitana, called Cottes by the na¬
tives, which is of the same signification with a town of
the same name not far from the river Lixus, near the
straits of Gibraltar, now Cape Spartel. W. Long. 6. 30.
N. Lat. 36. o.
AMPHERES, in antiquity, a kind of vessels where¬
in the rowers plied two oars at the same time, one with
the right hand and another with the left.
AMPHIARAUS, in Pagan Mythology, a celebra¬
ted prophet, who possessed part of the kingdom of
Argos. He was believed to excel in divining by
dreams, and is said to be the first who divined by fire.
Amphiaraus knowing, by the spirit of prophecy, that
he should lose his life in the war against Thebes, hid
himself in order to avoid engaging in that expedition :
but bis wife Eriphyle, being prevailed upon by a pre¬
sent, discovered the place in which he had concealed
himself; so that he was obliged to accompany the other Amphiar-
princes who marched against Thebes. This proved thro?u,
fatal to him; for the earth being split asunder by a Amphibia.^
thunderbolt, both he and his chariot were swallowed
up in the opening. Amphiaraus, after his death, was
ranked among the gods ; temples were dedicated to
him ; and his oracle, as well as the sports instituted to
his honour, were very famous.
AMPHIARTHROSIS, in Anatomy, a term for
such junctures of bones as have an evident motion,
but difterent from the diarthrosis, &c. See Hi ar¬
throsis.
AMPHIBIA, in Zoology, the name of Linnaeus’s
third class of animals ; including all those which live
partly in water and partly on laud. This class he sub¬
divides into four orders, viz. the amphibia reptiles ; the
amphibia serpentes} the amphibia nantes; and the
amphibia meantes.
It has been a question whether the animals common¬
ly called amphibious, live most in the water or on land.
If we consider the words {utrinque, both ways)
and /3i«s {vita, life), from which the term amphibious
is derived j we should understand, that animals, having
this title, should be capable of living as well by land,
or in the air, as by water; or of dwelling in either con¬
stantly at will : but it will be difficult to find any ani¬
mal that can fulfil this definition, as being equally qua¬
lified for either. An ingenious naturalist therefore, * Dr Par-
from considering their economy respectively, divides
them into two orders, viz. 1. Such as enjoy their chief^efore tj(C
functions by land, but occasionally go into the water. Royal So-
2. Such as chiefly inhabit the water, but occasionally ciety.
go ashore. What he advances on this subject is curi¬
ous, and well illustrates the nature of this class.
I. Of the first order, he particularly considers the
phocse *, and endeavours to show, that none of them can
live chiefly in the water, but that their chief enjoyment
of the functions of life is on shore.
These animals (he observes) are really quadrupeds ;
but, as their chief food is fish, they are under a ne¬
cessity of going out to sea to hunt their prey, and to
great distances from shore; taking care that, however
great the distance, rocks or small islands are at hand,
as resting places when they are tired, or when their
bodies become too much macerated in the water ; and
they return to the places of their usual resort to sleep,
copulate, and bring forth their young, for the follow¬
ing reasons, viz. It is well known, that the only essen¬
tial difference (as to the general structure of the heart)
between amphibious and mere land animals, or such as
never go into the water, is, that in the former the oval
hole remains always open. Now, in such as are with¬
out this hole, if they were to be immersed in water for
but a little time, respiration would cease, and the ani¬
mal must die ; because a great part of the mass of blood
passes from the heart by the pulmonary artery through
the lungs, and by the pulmonary veins returns to the
heart, while the aorta is carrying the greater part of
the mass to the head and extremities, &c.
Now, the blood passes through the lungs in a con¬
tinual uninterrupted stream, while respiration is gentle
and moderate j but when it is violent, then the circu¬
lation is interrupted, for inspiration and expiration are
now carried to their extent $ and in this state the blood
cannot pass through the lungs either during the total
T 2 inspiration
AMP [ 148 ] AMP
a. inspiration or total eviration of the air in breathing:
for, in the former case, the inflation .compresses the re¬
turning veins j and in the latter, by the coliapsion of
the lungs, these veins are interrupted also ; so that it is
only between these two violent actions that the blood
can pass : and hence it is, that the lives of animals are
shortened, and their health impaired, when they are
subjected to frequent violent inspiration ; and thus it is,
that when animals have thus breathed, they must con¬
tinue to respire ever after, for life is at an end when
that ceases.
There are three necessary and principal uses of re¬
spiration in all land animals, and in those kinds that are
counted amphibious. The first is that of promoting
the circulation of the blood through the whole body
and extremities. In real fishes, the force of the heart
is alone capable of sending the blood to every part, as
they are not furnished with limbs or extremities 5 but
in the other's mentioned, being all furnished with ex¬
tremities, respiration is an assistant force to the arte¬
ries in sending blood to the extremities; which, being
so remote from the heart, have need of such assistance,
-otherwise the circulation would be very languid in these
parts: thus we see, that in persons subject to asthmatic
complaints, the circulation grows languid, the legs
grow cold and oedematous, and other parts suffer by
the defect in respiration.—A second u$e of breathing
is, that in respiration, the variety of particles, of dif¬
ferent qualities, which float always in the air, might
be drawn into the lungs, to be insinuated into the mass
of blood, being highly necessary to contemperate and
cool the agitated mass, and to contribute refined pa¬
bulum to the finer parts of it, which, meeting with
the daily supply of chyle, serves to assimilate and more
intimately mix the mass, and render its constitution the
fitter for supporting the life of the animal. Therefore
it is, that valetudinarians, by changing foul or un¬
wholesome air for a free, good, open air, often recover
from lingering diseases.—A third principal use of re¬
spiration is, to promote the exhibition of voice in ani¬
mals : which all those that live on the land do accord¬
ing to their specific natures.
From these considerations it appears that the phocm
of every kind are under an absolute necessity of ma¬
king the land their principal residence. But there is
another very Convincing argument why they reside on
shore the greatest part of their time ; namely, that the
flesh of these creatures is analogous to that of other land
animals ; and therefore, by over long maceration, ad¬
ded to the fatigue of their chasing their prey, they
would sufier such a relaxation as would destroy them.
It is well known, that animals w’hich have lain long
under water are reduced to a very lax and even putrid
state ; and the plioca must bask in the air on shore: for
while the solids are at rest, they acquire their former
degree of tension, and the vigour of the animal is re¬
stored ; and while he has an uninterrupted placid respi¬
ration, his blood is refreshed by the new supply of air,
as explained above, and he is rendered fit for his next
cruise : for action wastes the most exalted fluids of the
body, more or less, according to its duration and vio¬
lence : and the restorative rest must continue a longer
or shorter time, according to the quantity of the pre¬
vious fatigue.
Bet us now examine by what power these animals
3
are capable of remaining longer under water than land
animals.
All these have the oval hole open between the right
and left auricles of the heart; and in many, the cana-
lis arteriosus also ; and while the phoca remains under
wrater, which he may continue an hour or two more or
less, his respiration is stopped ; and the blood, not find¬
ing the passage through the pulmonary artery free,
rushes through the hole from the right to the left au¬
ricle, and partly through the arterial canal, being a
short passage to the aorta, and thence to every part of
the body, maintaining the circulation : but, upon rising
to come ashore, the blood finds Its passage again
through the lungs the moment be respires.
Thus the foetus in utero, during its confinement,
having the lungs compressed, and consequently the pul¬
monary arteries and veins impervious, has the circuia-'
tion of the blood carried on through the oval hole and
the arterial canal. Now', so far the phoca in the water,
and the foetus in utero, are analogous; hut they differ
in other material circumstances, One is, that the foetus
having never respired, remains sufficiently nourished
by the maternal blood circulating through him, and
continues to grow till the time of his birth, without
any want of respiration during nine months confine¬
ment : the phoca, having respired the moment of his
birth, cannot live very long without it, for the reasons
given before ; and this hole and canal would be closed
in them, as it is in land animals, if the dam did not,
soon after the birth of the cub, carry him so very fre¬
quently into the water to teach him; by which practice
these passages are kept open during life, otherwise they
would not be capable of attaining the food designed for
them by Providence.
Another difference is, that the phoca, as we have said
before, would be relaxed by maceration in remaining too
long in the water ; whereas the fetus in utero suffers
no injury from continuing its full number of months
in the fluid it sw'ims in : the reason is, that water is a
powerful solvent, and penetrates the pores of the skins
of land animals, and in time can dissolve them ; where¬
as the liquor atnnii is an insipid soft fluid, impregnated
with particles more or less mucilaginous, and utterly in¬
capable of making the least alteration in the cutis of the
fetus.
Otters, heavers, and some kind of rats, go occasion¬
ally into the water for their prey, but cannot remain
very long under water. “ I have often gone to shoot
otters (says our author), and watched all their mo¬
tions ; I have seen one of them go softly from a bank
into the river, and dive down : and in about two mi¬
nutes rise'at 10 or 15 yards from the place he went in,
with a middling salmon in his mouth, which he brought
on shore : I shot him, and saved the fish whole.” Now,
as all foetuses have these passages open, if a whelp of a
true water spanicd was, immediately after its birth,
served as the phoca does her cubs, and immersed in
water, to stop respiration for a little time every day, it
is probable that the hole and canal would he kept open,
and the dog be made capable of remaining as long un¬
der water as the phoca.
I rogs, how capable soever of remaining in the water,
yet cannot avoid living on land, for they respire; and
it a frog be thrown into a river, he makes to the shore
as fast as he can.
The
AMP r 149 ] A M P
phibia. The lizard kind, such as may be called water liz-
-v ' ards (see Lacerta), are all obliged to come to land,
in order to deposit their eggs, to rest, and to sleep.
Even the crocodiles, who dwell much in rivers, sleep
and lay their eggs on shore ; and, while in the water
are compelled to rise to the surface to breathe ; yet,
from the texture of their scaly covering, they are capable
of remaining in the water longer by far than any species
of the phoca, whose skin is analogous to that of a horse
or cow. .
The hippopotamus, who wades into the lakes or
rivers, is a quadruped, and remains under the water a
considerable time; yet his chief residence is upon land,
and he must come on shore for respiration.
The testudo, or sea-tortoise, though he goes out to
sea, and is often found far from land ; yet being a re¬
spiring animal, cannot remain long under water. He
has indeed a power of rendering himself specifically
heavier or lighter than the water, and therefore can
let himself down to avoid an enemy or a storm : yet
he is under a necessity of rising frequently to breathe,
for reasons given before j and his most usual situation,
while at sea, is upon the surface of the water, feeding
upon the various substances that float in great abun¬
dance everywhere about him : these animals sleep se¬
curely upon the surface, but not under water 5 and
can remain longer at sea than any other of this class,
except the crocodile, because, as it is with the latter,
his covering is not in danger of being too much mace¬
rated j yet they must goon sliore to copulate and lay
their eggs.
2. The consideration of these is sufficient to inform
us of the nature of the first order of the class of amphi¬
bious animals *, let us now see what is to be said ol the
second in our division of them, which are such as chiefly.
inhabit the waters, but occasionally go on shore;
These are but of two kinds : the eels, and water ser¬
pents or snakes of every kind. It is their form that
qualifies them for loco motion on land, and they know
their way back to the water at will : for by their struc¬
ture they have a strong peristaltic motion, by which
they can go forward at a pretty good rate : whereas all
other kinds of fish, whether vertical or horizontal, are
incapable of a Voluntary loco-motion on shore j and
therefore, as soon as such' fish are brought out of the
water, after having flounced a while, they lie motion¬
less and soon die.
Let us now examine into the reason why these ver¬
micular fish, the eel and serpent kinds, can live a consi¬
derable time on land, and the vertical and horizontal
kinds die almost immediately when taken out ot the
water : and, in this research, we shall come to know
what analogy there is between land animals and those
of the waters. All land animals have lungs, and can
live no longer than while these are inflated by the am¬
bient air, and alternately compressed lor its expulsion ;
that is, while respiration is duly carried on, by a regu¬
lar inspiration and expiration of air.
In like manner, the fish in general have, instead of
lungs, gills or branchiae: and as in land animals the
lungs have a large portion of the mass of blood circu¬
lating through them, which must be stopped il the air
has not a free ineress and egress into and from them j
so, in fish, there is a great number of blood-vessels that
pass through the .branchiae, and a great portion of their
blood circulates through them, which must in like man- Amphibia.
ner he total!v stopped, it the branchiae are not perpe-
tually wet with water. So that, as the air is to the lungs
in land animals a constant assistant to the circulation *,
so is the water to the branchiae of those of the rivers
and seas : for when these are out of the water, the bran-
chicB very soon grow crisp and dry, the blood-vessels are
shrunk, and the blood is obstructed in its passage ; so,
when the former are immersed in water, or otherwise
prevented from-having respiration, the circulation ceases,
and the animal dies.
Again, as land animals would be destroyed by too
much maceration in water; so fishes would, on the other
hand, be ruined by too much exsiccation : the latter
being, from their general structure and constitution,
made fit to bear, and live in, the water; the former,
by their constitution and form, to breathe and dwell in
the air.
But it may be asked, Why eels and water snakes are
capable of being longer in the air than the other kinds
of fish ! This is answered, by considering the providen¬
tial care of the great Creator for these and every one
of his creatures : for since they were capable of loco¬
motion by their form, which they need not be if they
were never to go on shore, it seemed necessary that they
should be rendered capable of living a considerable time
on shore, otherwise their loco-motion would be in vain.
How is this provided far? Why, in a most convenient
manner ; for this order of fishes have their branchise
well covered from the external drying air; they are also
furnished with a slimy mucus, which hinders their be¬
coming crisp and dry for many hours; and their very
skins always emit a mucous liquor which keeps them
supple and moist fora long time : whereas the branchiae
of other kinds of fish are much exposed to the air, and
want the slimy matter to keep them moist. Now, if
any of these, when brought out of the water, were laid
in a vessel without water, they might he preserved alive
a considerable time, by only keeping the gills and sur¬
face of the skin constantly wet, even without any water
to swim in.
It has been advanced, that man may, by art, be ren¬
dered amphibious, and able to live under water as well
as frogs. As the feetus lives in ulero without air, and
the circulation is there continued by means of the fora¬
men ovale ; by preserving the passage open, and the
other parts in statu quo, after the birth, the same facul¬
ty would still continue. Now, the foramen, it is al¬
leged, would he preserved in its open state, were peo¬
ple accustomed, from their infancy, to hold their breath
a considerable time once a-day, that the blood might
he forced to resume its pristine passage, and prevent its
drying up as it usually does, This conjecture seems,
in some measure, supported by the practice of divers,
who are taught from their childhood to hold their
breath, and keep long under water, by which means the
ancient channel is kept open.—A Calabrian monk at
Madrid laid claim to this amphibious capacity, making
an olfer to the king of Spain, to continue twice twen¬
ty-four hours under water, without ever coming up to
take breath. Kircher gives an account of a Sicilian,
named the fish Colas, who by a long habitude from his
youth, had so accustomed himself to live in water, that
his nature seemed to be quite altered ; so that he lived
rather after the manner of a fish than a man.
AMPHIBOLK ‘
Amphibole
AMP [i
AMPHTBOLE. See Mineralogy Index.
i, AMPHIBOLOGY, in Grammar and Rhetoric, a
Amphicty- term to denote a phrase susceptible of two differ-
, ous‘ ent interpretations. Amphibology arises from the or-
der of the phrase, rather than from the ambiguous
meaning of a word.
Of this kind was that answer which Pyrrhus received
from the oracle : slio te, lEacida, Romanos vincerepos¬
se ; where the amphibology consists in this, that the
words te and Romanos, may either of them precede, or
either of them follow, the words posse vincere, indifler-
ently. See Oracle.
The English language usually speaks in a more na¬
tural manner, and is not capable of any amphibologies
of this kind : nor is it so liable to amphibologies in
the articles as the French and most other modern
tongues.
AMPHIBRACHYS, in Greek and Latin pqptry,
the name of a foot consisting of three syllables, where¬
of that in the middle is long, and the other two short $
such are the words [abire, amare].
AMPHICOME, in Natural History, a kind of fi¬
gured stone, of a round shape, but rugged, and beset
with eminences, celebrated on account of its use in di¬
vination. The word is originally Greek, ap.<ptK6pn,
q. d. utrinque comata, or, “ hairy on all sides.” This
stone is also called Erotylus, Eg*]uAes, Amatoria, pro¬
bably on account of its supposed power of creating love.
The amphicome is mentioned by Democritus and Pliny.
Mercatus takes it for the same with the lapis lumbri-
catus, of which he gives a figure.
AMPHICTYONS, in Grecian antiquity, an assem¬
bly composed of deputies from the different states of
Greece ; and resembling, in some measure, the- diet of
the German empire. Some suppose the word Ap<pi>clt»vis
to be formed of “ about,” and or xhfytv, in
regard the inhabitants of the country round about met
here in council : others, with more probability, from
Amphictyon, son of Deucalion, whom they suppose to
have been the founder of this assembly 5 though others
will have Acrisius, king of the Argives, to have been
the first who gave a form and laws to it.
Authors give different accounts of the number of the
Amphictyons, as well as of the states who were en¬
titled to have their representatives in this council.
According to Strabo, Harpocration, and Suidas, they
were twelve from their first institution, sent by the fol¬
lowing cities and states j the lonians, Dorians, Per-
rhsebians, Boeotians, Magnesians, Achseans, Phthians,
Melians, Dolopians, iEnianians, Delphians, and Pho-
cians. iEschines reckons no more than eleven: instead
of the Achaeans, iEnianians, Delphians, and Dolo-
piaus; he only gives the Thessalians, Oetians, and
Locrians. Lastly, Pausanias’s list contains only ten,
viz. the lonians, Dolopians, Thessalians, AEnianians,
Magnesians, Melians, Phthians, Dorians, Phocians, and
Locrians.
In the time of Philip of Macedon, the Phocians
were excluded the alliance, for having plundered the
Delphian temple, and the Lacedaemonians were ad¬
mitted in their place ; but the Phocians, 60 years af¬
ter, having behaved gallantly against Brennus and his
Gauls, were restored to their seat in the Amphictyonic
council.^ Under Augustus, the city Nicopolis was ad¬
mitted into the body ; and to make room for it, the
50 ] AMP
Magnesians, Melians, Phthians, and iEnianians, who Araphicty.
till then had distinct voices, were ordered to be num- ons
bered with the Thessalians, and to have only one com- li.
mon representative. Strabo speaks as if this council
were extinct in the times of Augustus and Tiberius : 1.- ^ ' ,
but Pausanias, who lived many years after, under An¬
toninus Pius, assures us it remained entire in his time,
and that the number of Amphictyons was then 30.
The members were of two kinds. Each city sent
two deputies, under different denominations ; one called
hgo/uwper, whose business seems to have been more im¬
mediately to inspect what related to sacrifices and cere¬
monies of religion ; the other, nvXxyogxs, charged with
hearing and deciding of causes and differences between
private persons. Both had an equal right to delibe¬
rate and vote, in all that related to the common inte¬
rests of Greece. The hieromnemon was elected by lot,
the pylagoras by plurality of voices.
Though the Amphictyons were first instituted at
Thermopylae, M. de Valois maintains, that their first
place of residence was at Delphi j where, for some ages,
the tranquillity of the times found them no other em¬
ployment than that of being, if we may so call it,
church-wardens of the temple of Apollo. In after
times, the approach of armies frequently drove them to
Thermopylae, where they took their station, to be near¬
er at hand to oppose the enemies progress, and order
timely succour to the cities in danger. Their ordinary
residence, however, was at Delphi.
Here they decided all public differences and disputes
between any of the cities of Greece ; but before they
entered on business, they jointly sacrificed an ox cut in¬
to small pieces, as a symbol of their union. Their de¬
terminations were received with the greatest venera¬
tion, and even held sacred and inviolable.
The Amphictyons, at their admission, took a solemn
oath never to divest any city of its right of deputation j
never to avert its running waters : and if any attempts
of this kind were made by others, to make mortal war
against them : more particularly, in case of any attempt
to rob the temple of any of its ornaments, that they
would employ hands, feet, tongue, their whole power to
revenge it.—This oath was backed with terrible im¬
precations against such as should violate it; e. g. May
they meet all the vengeance of Apollo, Diana, Miner¬
va, &c. their soil produce no fruit, their wives bring
forth nothing but monsters, &c.
The stated terms of their meeting were in spring and
autumn : The spring meeting was called Uv\ctM,
that in autumn MiloTruyiri. On extraordinary occasions,
however, they met at any time of the year, or even con¬
tinued sitting all the year round.
Philip of Macedon usurped the right of presiding in
the assembly of the Amphictyons, and of first consulting
the oracle, which was called ngefcxvluu.
AMPHIDROMTA, a feast celebrated by the an¬
cients on the first day after the birth of a child.
AMPHIDRT ON, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes
the veil or curtain which was drawn before the door of
the bema in ancient churches.
AMPHILOCHIA, in Ancient Geography, the ter-
ritory of the city of Argos in Acarnania : Atnphilo-
chium, ('Thucydides) ; called Amphilochi (from the
people), in the lower age, (Stephanus). A town also
of Spain, in Galicia, built by Teucer, and denomi¬
nated
AMP [i
Ampliilo- nated from Ampliiloclius one of his companions, (Stra-
chius bo) : now Orense. W. Long. 8. 20. Lat. 42. 36.
. II . AMPHILOCHIUS, bishop of Iconium, in the
Ampins- century, was the friend of St Gregory Nazian-
_ , Zen and St Basil. He assisted at the first general coun¬
cil of Constantinople in 381 ; presided at the council of
Sidse ; and was a strenuous opposer of the Arians. He
died in 394 ; and his works were published in Greek
and Latin at Paris, 1644, by Francis Combesis.
AMPHfLOCHUS, son of Amphiaraus and Eri-
phyle, was a celebrated diviner. He had an altar erect¬
ed to him at Athens, and an oracle at Mallus in Ci¬
licia, which city was founded by him and Mopsus.
The answers of this oracle were given by dreams; the
party inquiring used to pass a night in the temple, and
that night’s dream was the answer. Dion Cassius men¬
tions a picture done by order of Sextus Condianus, re¬
presenting the answer he received of the oracle, in the
reign of the emperor Commodus.
AMPHIMACER, in ancient poetry, a foot con¬
sisting of three syllables j whereof the first and last are
long, and that in the middle short 5 such is the word
[castitas.]
AMPHION, son of Jupiter and Antiope ; who, ac¬
cording to the poets, made the rocks follow his music;
and at his harp the stones of Thebes danced into walls
and a regular city.
AMPHIPOLES, in antiquity, the principal ma¬
gistrates of Syracuse. They were established by Ti-
moleon in the 109th Olympiad, after the expulsion of
the tyrant Dionysius. They governed Syracuse for the
space of 300 years : and Diodorus Siculus assures us,
that they subsisted in his time.
AMPHIPOLIS, in Ancient Geography, a city of
Macedonia, an Athenian colony, on the Strymon, but
on which side is not certain : Pliny places it in Mace¬
donia, on this side ; but Scylax, in Thrace, on the other.
The name of the town, Amphipolis, however, seems to
reconcile their difference j because, as Thucydides ob¬
serves, it was washed on two sides by the Strymon,
which dividing itself into two channels, the city stood
in the middle, and on the side towards the sea there was
a wall built from channel to channel. Its ancient name
was Ewsa the Nine ways (Thucydides, Herodotus).
The citizens were called Amphipolitani, (Livy). It
was afterwards called Christopdis; now Christopoh, or
Chisopoli, (Holstenius).
Amphipolis, in Ancient Geography, a town of Sy¬
ria, on the Euphrates, built by Seleucus, called by the
Syrians Turmeda, (Stephanas) : the same with Thap-
sacus, (Pliny) j and supposed to have been only re¬
newed and adorned by Seleucus, because long famous
before his time, (Xenophon).
AMPHIPPII, in Grecian antiquity, soldiers who,
in war, used two horses without saddles, and were dex¬
terous enough to leap from one to the other.
AMPHIPRORiE, in the naval affairs of the an¬
cients, vessels with a prow at each end. They were
used chiefly in rapid rivers and narrow channels, where
it was not easy to tack about.
AMPHIPROSTYLES, in the architecture of the
ancients, a temple which had four columns in the front,
and as many in the aspect behind.
AMPHlSBiENA. See Ophiology Index.
; 1 ] AMP
jAmphisb/EXa Aquatica. See Gordius, Helmut- Amphi».
THOLOGY Index. % barna
AMPHISCII, among geographers, a name applied Am»h._
to the people who inhabit the torrid zone. I. he Am- theatre,
phiscii, as the word imports, have their shadows one -y—.
part of the year towards the north, and the other to¬
wards the south, according to the sun’s place in the e-
cliptic. They are also called Ascii. See Ascii.
AMPHISSA, in Ancient Geography, the capital of
the Locri Ozolae, 120 stadia (or 15 miles) to the west
of Delphi, (Pausanias). So called, because surround¬
ed on all sides by mountains, (Stephanus). Hence
Amphisscei, the inhabitants j who plundered the tem¬
ple at Delphi (Demosthenes).—Also a town of Mag¬
na Grtecia at the mouth of the Sagra, on the coast
of the Farther Calabria, situated between Locri and
Caulona; now called Rocelia. Amphissius the epithet,
(Ovid).
AMPHITHEATRE, in ancient architecture, a
building of an elliptic form, of two or more stories of
open arcades, with a number of interior galleries and
arched passages, which served both as a communication
and support to several rows of seats which rose above each
other, and were arranged round a large space called the
arena. The derivation of the word amphitheatre, indi¬
cates that it is a place where the spectators, circuitously
arranged, saw the performance equally well on all sides.
The history of amphitheatres is of considerable im¬
portance, in consequence of its connexion with ancient
manners. These structures owed their origin to the
barbarity of the ancients, and their ruin to the huma¬
nity of the moderns. They are the production of
Roman invention in the last ages of the republic. The
ferocious disposition of the Romans was immoderately
fond of every species of amusement $ but especially
that which was of a bloody and horrible nature. The
political rulers improved this general feature in the
Roman character, to rouse and foster that martial spi¬
rit which rendered them masters of the world. Af¬
ter the Samnite war had extended the Roman sceptre
over Etruria and the whole peninsula of Italy, the
first gladiatory conflicts were exhibited in Rome in the
year of the city 490. Lucius Metellus brought into
the circus the elephants which were part of the spoil of
the Carthaginians, in the year 502, and this proved
the introduction of wild beasts into the spectacles of
Rome. This addition was equally agreeable to the
Roman taste ; and those wdio courted the popular fa¬
vour, vied with each other in entertaining the people
in this barbarous manner. This soon gave birth to a
profession of men denominated gladiators, who were
trained to the combat, and for reward slaughtered one
another in the forum, whilst every devouring animal
which the wilds of Asia or Africa produced, added to
the horrid scene.
In the days of Pompey and Caesar these barbarous
amusements were given with an astonishing profusion.
In these games given by Pompey, the elephants at¬
tempted to break down the barrier between them and
the people, and the situation of the circus prevented
the people from seeing equally well 1 this induced Cae¬
sar to alter the original form, and construct edifices
where the people might be entertained without
danger or interruption. Amphitheatres we/e suited
AMP [ 152 ] AMP
Amphi¬
theatre.
to this purpose j therefore they were adopted, and be¬
came the common place for the exhibitions both of gla¬
diators and wild beasts.
It is supposed that the first amphitheatre was com¬
posed of those singular machines, formed by Cains
Curio, for the games which Caesar presented among
the funeral honours of his father. In a semicircular
form Caius made two large theatres, and opposed their
backs to each other : and, having amused the people
in these the one half of the day, then they wheeled
round, forming one spacious theatre where the gladi¬
ators contended during the remainder of the day.
Pliny is the only one who makes me ntion of this amphi¬
theatre ; and from his account it is difficult to ascer¬
tain whether this was the first idea of an amphitheatre,
or whether the previous sight of one had suggested this
huge and wonderful structure. It is reported, that
Julius Caesar, a few years after, formed a hunting thea¬
tre of wood j and, in consequence of the circular po¬
sition of the seats, it obtained the name of an amphi¬
theatre. This appears to have been of very superior
kind and in great estimation.
In the reign of Augustus, Statilius Taurus erected
one of stone, but it seems to have been seldom used 5
and, from its being consumed by fire in the time of
Nero, it is evident that it was not wholly of stone.
These wooden buildings appear to have been tempo¬
rary, and a few of them permanent from the establish¬
ment conferred upon them. The politic spirit of
Augustus induced him to erect several of these, and
Caligula began one, which he left unfinished. Nero
formed a large and spacious one, which is said to have
been a year in building. Herod of Judea erected am¬
phitheatres both in Jerusalem and in Csesarea. Du¬
ring the reign of Tiberius, one was built at Fidense,
which Tacitus informs us fell while the games were
performing, and slew or hurt about 50,000 persons.
There was another at Placentia, reported to have been
the most spacious in Italy j but it was destroyed by fire
in the contest between Vitellius and Otho.
The unfortunate accidents, which happened to these
wooden buildings, led the public to construct others of
a more durable and stronger nature, where the crowd
might be entertained without danger. This honour
was reserved to Vespasian and Titus. In his eighth
consulate, the former began the amphitheatre, which
the latter finished during his reign. It is said, that
the expence of this building would have erected a ca¬
pital city, and it is deservedly esteemed one of the
most celebrated edifices of ancient times. Dio says
that 9000 wild beasts were destroyed at the dedication
of this huge building, but Eutropius restricts their
number to 5000. After the hunting of these fero¬
cious animals was ended, instantly the arena was filled
with water, and sea animals were made to contend, and
a sea-fight exhibited. This immense building obtain¬
ed the appellation of the Coliseum. See Plate XX
fig. I.
1 ms amplmeatre became the model of other s
phitheatres throughout the empire. Compared w
the original model, these were natural valleys, w
seats formed in the surrounding heights similar to
amphitheatre at Corinth. On the declivitv of t
hills seats of stones were sometimes placed, and the
tremes formed by regular works of stone. Of this k
was that of Gortyna in Candia. One in the vicinity Amphh
of Sandwich in Kent had its benches formed of turf j theatre,
and similar must have been those amphitheatres, which 'Y'—
were formed along with the camps and military stations
of the Roman soldiers.
When Christianity became the religion of the em¬
pire, it meliorated the dispositions of the Romans, and
induced them to lay aside this barbarous custom. Con¬
stantine the Great terminated the giadiatory com¬
bats in the east during his reign $ but they were not
finally abolished at Rome until the beginning of the
fifth century, in the reign of Honorius. The combats
of wild beasts continued, however, some time longer j
but during the progress of the fifth century these gra¬
dually declined, until they were finally abolished, and
the amphitheatres were abandoned to the ravages of
time and accident. During the middle ages they were
sometimes employed for judicial conflicts, tilts, and
tournaments; but these practices having been discon¬
tinued, the amphitheatres experienced universal neglect
and ruin.
It is very difficult to give an accurate description of
an amphitheatre. It is scarcely possible to give a clear
idea of the manner in which such immense crowds of *
people were seated and arranged, and how they had a
convenient entrance and a returning. It has already
been mentioned, that these buildings were circuitous,
and that the exterior circuit was composed of two or
more stories of arcades j and it may now be added, that
the number of these stories varied according to the na¬
ture of the building. A corresponding number of arch¬
ed passages and staircases opened upon the ground floor
towards these stories in the direction of radii towards
the arena. These communications were again intersected
by arched passages which encircled the whole struc¬
ture, and afforded an uninterrupted entrance to every
part of the amphitheatre. Sometimes an intermediate
gallery surrounded the whole in the centre of the fa¬
bric, and served as a common place of resort to all the
stairs which led to the higher galleries. This was the
form of one at Nismes. Sometimes each staircase
had its distinct communication by itself. Such was the
case with one at Verona. See Plate XX. fig. 2.
The four radiating entries on the diameter were
usually more capacious 5 and by the two principal of
these the emperor, the senate, and other persons of
distinction, were conducted to their seats on a place
which was called the podium. The other two led to
tlie arena, and by these the gladiators and beasts made
their entrance. I he various ranks of thp people pas¬
sed by the staircases, which led to their respective
seats. The doors which opened from the staircases
were called vomitories^ and varied in magnitude, ac¬
cording to the extent of the amphitheatre, and the
number ot exterior arches. The number of seats be¬
tween the several vomitories was unequal, and seems
to have been subject to no positive regulation. These
benches were about one foot and eight inches in height,
and about two feet four inches in breadth. A plat-
foim four feet eight inches broad was formed of one
of these benches, which served as a circular communi-
. cation to the whole building. These obtained the
name oi precinctions, and the boundaries on the side
were called bells. Ihe latter were surrounded by
ballustrades, to protect the persoas from falling who
occupied
AMP [ 153 ] AMP
Amplii- occupied the benches in the vicinity. The podium
theatre, was more spacious than the precinctions, and was a
platform encircling the arena. From one precinction
to the belt of another, a flight of stairs two feet six
inches in breadth descended opposite to every vomi¬
tory. Small canals were cut in the tops of the benches,
by which the rain and urine were conducted from
bench to bench, until they reached the instruments
prepared to convey them to the drains below. These
stairs radiated from the highest bench to the podium ;
so that, with the precinctions, they separated the whole
cavity into wedge-like divisions, which the people oc¬
cupied according to their rank.
The amphitheatre called the Coliseum, was of an
elliptical form, whose longest diameter was about 615
English feet six inches, and the shortest 510. The
length of the diameter of the arena was about 281
feet, and the breadth 176, reserving a space for the
seats and galleries of about 157 feet in breadth. The
external circumference covered a superficies of about
five acres and a half, and could scarcely be included
in a parallelogram of seven acres. Three stories of
arcades, adorned with columns of the Doric, Ionic, and
Corinthian orders, and enclosed with a pilastrade of
the Corinthian order, composed the external elevation.
The first story rose about four feet from the ground,
and the pavement supported the basis of the columns.
The columns which supported the upper stories were
placed upon pedestals. A stylobata supported the pi¬
lastrade, in which were the windows of an interme¬
diate gallery, and in every second interpilaster w'as a
window to illuminate the highest gallery. A cantali-
ver cornice, perforated with square holes, through
which the erect pieces of wood passed that supported
the awning to a range of corbels, about the centre of
the pilastrade, crowned the building. These various co¬
lumns, pilasters, and stories, appear to have been con¬
tinued without interruption around the whole edifice.
The height of the first story is about 33 feet six inches,
the second about 39, and the third about 38 5 the pila¬
strade about 46 and the whole, including the blocking
course and the steps, was about 164 feet in height.
An ellipsis of 80 open aches formed the exterior
circuit of the ground plan; the piers, with three-
quarter columns in front, of about two feet 10 inches
diameter. The four which corresponded to the four
semi-diameters formerly mentioned, were about 14
feet two inches, and 76 of the arches were about 13
feet eight inches. These arches led to a large double
corridor, that encircled the whole j this corridor is a
magnificent and distinguishing feature in the Coliseum
theatre. Square openings in the precinction above, illu¬
minated the interior corridor ’7 and the corridor which
was united with the wall of the podium appears to
have been illuminated in a similar manner. A double
corridor was seen on the floor of the second story di¬
rectly above the corridor of the lower floor, and an in¬
terior corridor which sent forth stairs leading to a
range of vomitories on the one hand, and on the other
hand an intermediate corridor which formed a mezza¬
nine floor above the double corridor of the interior
circuit. Here the stairs beg'^n to ascend to the next
etory, and square holes in the upper floor enlightened
this gallery. A double corridor formed the third sto¬
ry, and it appears that here the stairs commenced that
Vox.. II, Part I, f
led to the galleries above. There were also some win- Aniphi-
dows in the interior wall, and vomitories which opened theatre,
to the uppermost cunei of benches. In a similar man- —v——
ner were other three stories constructed and filled above,
the whole composing a most magnificent and spacious
structure.
Justus Lipsius supposes that this amphitheatre was
capable of containing 87,000 spectators on the bench¬
es ; and Fontana adds 22,000 for the galleries and
other passages. Upon a fair calculation it appeals
that if all was crowded, it might contain about 80,000.
This magnificent structure certainly excelled the mo¬
numents both of Grecian and Egyptian genius which
have reached our times. When this amphitheatre was
in its glory, and crowded with Homans, the sight must
have been magnificent and striking. If the report is
accurate, that this was completed in two years and nine
months, it affords an astonishing instance of Roman
vigour and persevering industry. Besides former de¬
predations, Michael Angelo removed near the one
half of the external wall to build the Palazzo Farnese.
To prevent these depredations, Pope Benedict XIV.
consecrated these ruins, and erected several altars,
which were much frequented on the Sundays and Fri¬
days, before the revolution in France. To guard these
relicks, a hermit was stationed in a small dwelling near
the centre.
The different kinds of amusement have already been Amuse-
mentioned during the progress of the history. Gla-mvnts.
diators contended together, or entered the lists with
wild beasts. These wild animals were hunted or en¬
countered, or left to devour each other, according to
the humour of the times or the taste of him who gave
the entertainment. It appears also, that criminals were
sometimes forced to fight with these ferocious creatures
for the entertainment of the people of Rome ; and, in
the dawn of Christianity, many of the Christians suf¬
fered death in this brutal manner. It is also reported,
that artificial mountains were sometimes constructed
with caves below, from whence these devouring animals
rushed forth to attack their prey.
Information concerning the laws that regulated the
amphitheatre is rather scanty j but the following are
among the number. In the centre of one side of the
podium was the emperor’s seat, called the suggesturn,
and highly adorned. The remainder of the podium
was occupied by senators; and when this space was
not sufficient, several of the adjacent wedges were ap¬
propriated to the other senators and to persons of
distinction. The equestrians, and the civil and military
tribunes, had their places next assigned them. From
this order both the liberti and the legati were exclud¬
ed. The married men sat by themselves. The young
men were also arranged by themselves, and their tutors
sat near them to observe their conduct. The attendants
and servants occupied the highest gallery. The vestals
were seated, and frequently the princesses and the la¬
dies of distinguished rank' sat along with them. The
front of the gallery was assigned to the women, who
were placed on chairs, and the lowest order of ple¬
beians stood behind them. It appears also, that for
the better accommodation of the people, the different
tribes had particular wedges allotted to them. It is
also proper to remark, that the arrangement in the
different provinces was different from that of Rome
U a*
AMP [ 154 ] AMP
Am;.ln- as circumstances varied. The general direction of the
theatre amphitheatre was under the care of an officer, named
11 villicus amphitheatri; and different officers, who were
Amphora- caj|e(] [ocar^ liai} the direction of the cunei. By care-
■ uy‘~ . fully preventing any person from occupying a place to
which he was not entitled, all confusion was prevented,
and strict order maintained.
Remains. The means used by Pope Benedict to preserve the
Coliseum at Rome, have already been mentioned. Of
one which was erected at Verona, only four arches of
the external circuit remained at the commencement of
the eighteenth century. These consist of three stories
of about 90 English feet. The whole building was
erected without cement, and joined and secured by
iron cramps, overlaid with lead. The whole superfi¬
cies is about four acres and nearly one-third. One
lias been erected at Nismes, which has suffered much
dilapidation •, but the remains are yet worthy of the at¬
tention of the traveller. In the year 1533, Francis I.
gave orders to have the rubbish removed ; but his mis¬
fortunes prevented this order from being carried into
execution. Louis XVI. issued a similar order, but
the work is not yet finished. This amphitheatre is
said by Governor Pownall, to be occupied with houses
arranged in the form of streets, and resembles a small
walled town. The galleries are converted in wretched
dwellings, but the exterior gallery of the second story,
and that of the attic, were in their original state.
At Pola in Istria, there are the remains of an am¬
phitheatre built on the declivity of a bill. The whole
of the exterior circuit was standing, except a few yards
of the parapet, when Maffei visited these remains. It
was erected of stone, with cramps of iron ; and all the
benches and other parts constructed of wood, have been
destroyed.
Amphitheatre, in Gardening, certain dispositions
of trees and shrubs on the sides of hilly places, which,
if the hill or rising be naturally of a circular figure, al¬
ways have the best effect. They are to be formed of
evergreens, such as hollies, phillereys, laurustines, bays,
and such plants, observing to plant the shortest grow¬
ing trees in the front, and those which will be the tall¬
est behind, such as pines, firs, cedars of Lebanon, &c.
Amphitheatres are also sometimes formed of slopes
on the sides of bills, covered only with turf; and,
when well kept, they are a great ornament to large
gardens.
AMPHITRITE, (from
circumferendd),
in the heathen mythology, the wife of Neptune, and
goddess of the sea, sometimes taken for the sea.
AMPHITRYON, son of Alcaeus, and the father
of Hercules, less known by his own exploits than from
his wife Alcmena’s adventure. See Alcmena.
AMPHORA, in antiquity, a liquid measure among
the Greeks and Romans. The Roman amphora con¬
tained 48 sextaries, equal to about seven gallons one
pint English wine measure; and the Grecian or Attic
amphora contained one-third more.
Amphora was also a dry measure used by the Ro¬
mans, and contained about three bushels.
Amphora, among the Venetians, is the largest mea¬
sure used for liquids, containing about 16 quarts.
AMPHORARIUM VINUM, in antiquity, denotes
that which is drawn or poured into amphora; or pitch¬
ers ; by way of distinction from vinum dollarsr or cask
wine.—The Romans had a method of keeping wine in AmpWs.
amphora; for many years to ripen, by fastening the lids mm
tight down with pitch or gypsum, and placing them it
either in a situation within reach of smoke, or under AtllPsaa»
ground. ~ ■
AMPHOTIDES, in antiquity, a kind of armour
or covering for the ears, worn by the ancient pugiles,
to prevent their adversaries from laying hold of that
part.
AMPHRYSUS, or Amphryssus, in Ancient Geo¬
graphy, a river of Phthiotis, a district of Thessaly,
running by the foot of Mount Othrys, from south to
north, into the Enipeus at Thebes of Thessaly; where
Apollo fed the herds of King Admetus (Virgil, Lu¬
can). Another Amphrysus in Phrygia, rendering
women barren, according to Pliny : Hence the epi¬
thet Amphrysiacus (Statius). Also a town of Phocis,
at the foot of Mount Parnassus, encompassed with a
double ■wall by the Thebans in the war with Philip
(Pausanias) : Amphrysia T ates, in Virgil, denotes the
Sibyl.
AMPHTHILL, a town of Bedfordshire in Eng¬
land, situated pleasantly between two hills, near the
centre of the county, but in a barren soil. Population
1277 *n I8n. VV. Long. o. 29. N. Lat. 52. 2.
AMPLIATION, in a general sense, denotes the
act of enlarging or extending the compass of a thing.
On a medal of the emperor Antoninus Pius, we find
the title Ampliator civimn given him, on account of his
having extended the jW civitatis, or right of citizen¬
ship, to many states and people before excluded from
that privilege. In effect, it is generally supposed to
have been this prince that made the famous constitu¬
tion, whereby all the subjects of the empire were made
citizens of Rome.
Ampliation, in Roman antiquity, was the defer¬
ring to pass sentence in certain causes. This the judge
did, by pronouncing the word amplius ; or by writing
the letters N. L. for non liquet; thereby signifying,
that, as the cause was not clear, it would be necessary
to bring farther evidence.
AMPLIFICATION, in Rhetoric, part of a dis¬
course or speech, wherein a crime is aggravated, a
praise or commendation heightened, or a narration en¬
larged, by an enumeration of circumstances: so as to
excite the proper emotions in the souls of the auditors.
Such is the passage in Virgil, where, instead of saying
merely that Turnus died, he amplifies the circumstan¬
ces of his death :
—-Ast Mi solvuntur frigore membra,
Vitaque cum gcmitu fugit indignata sub umbras.
The masters of eloquence make an amplification to he
the soul of discourse. See ORATORY.
AMPLITUDE, in Astronomy, an arch of the ho-
rizon intercepted between the east or west point and
the centre of the sun or a planet, at its rising or set¬
ting ; and so is either north and south, or ortive and
occasive.
Magnetical Amplitude, the different rising or set¬
ting of the sun from the east or west points of the com¬
pass. It is found by observing the sun, at his rising
and setting, by an amplitude compass.
AMI SAGA, a river of ancient Numidia. See Al¬
giers.
AMPSANCTI
A Ml* 11 ITU 10 ATH ES. PLATE XX.
i esp. isi. lx's . /.un/uTJ/E. rrnE which ('o.xt. us 'd ehhityseve.x runes, lxd spec -t.irons.
AMR [i
AavJancti AMPSANCTI VALLIS, or AmPSANCTI LACUS, a
y cave or lake in the heart of the Hirpini, or Principato
Awraphel. Ultra, near the city Tricento (Cicero, Virgil, Pliny) j
- » it is now called Moffeta, from Mephitis, the goddess
of stench, who had a temple there. The ancient poets
imagined that this gulf led to hell. The Moffeta is
thus described by Mr Swinburne: “ We were led into
a narrow valley, extending a considerable way to the
south-west, and pressed in on both sides by high ridges
thickly covered with copses of oak. The bottom of
the dell is bare and arid : in the lowest part, and close
under one of the hills, is an oval pond of muddy ash-
coloured water, not above fifty feet in diameter : it boils
up in several places with great force in irregular fits,
which are always preceded by a hissing sound. The
water was several times spouted up as high as our heads
in a diagonal direction $ a whirlpool being formed
round the tube, like a bason, to receive it as it fell.
A large body of vapour is continually thrown out with
a loud rumbling noise. The stones on the rising
ground that hangs over the pool are quite yellow, be¬
ing stained with the fumes of sulphur and sal ammo¬
niac. A most nauseous smell rising with the steam
obliged us to watch the wind, and keep clear of it, to
avoid suffocation. The water is quite insipid both as
to taste and smell; the clay at the edge is white, and
carried into Puglia to rub upon scabby sheep, on which
account the lake is farmed out at too ducats a-year.
On a hill above this lake stood formerly a temple dedi¬
cated to the goddess Mephitis : but I perceived no re¬
mains of it.”
AMPULLA, in antiquity, a round big-bellied ves¬
sel which the ancients used in their baths, to contain
oil for anointing their bodies j also the name of a cup
for drinking out of at table.
Ampulla, among ecclesiastical writers, denotes one
of the sacred vessels used at the altars. Ampullae were
also used for holding the oil used in chrismation, conse¬
cration, coronation, &c. Among the ornaments of
churches we find frequent mention made of ampuls or
vials. In the inventory of the cathedral of Lincoln we
meet with ampuls of crystal, variously enriched with
silver feet and covers ; one containing a tooth of St
Christopher, another a tooth of St Cecily, another a
bone of the head of St John Baptist.
Knights of St Ampulla, belong to an order institut¬
ed by Clovis T. king of France j at the coronation they
bear up the canopy under which the ampulla is carried
in procession.
AMPURA, a province of the kingdom of Peru, be¬
fore its conquest by the Spaniards. Here the inhabit
tants worshipped two lofty mountains from a prin¬
ciple of gratitude, because of the descent of the water
from them by which their lands were fertilized. It is
said to have been conquered by Viracocha the eighth
inca.
AMPURTAS, the capital of the territory of Am-
purdan, in Catalonia, seated at the mouth of the river
Fluvia, in E. Long. 2. 56. N. Lat. 42. 5. The land
about it is barren, full of briars and bulrushes, except
in some places which produce flax.
AMPUTxkTION, in Surgen/, the cutting off a
limb, or any part, from the body. See SURGERY
Index.
AMRAPHEL, the king of Shinar, or Babylonia,
55 f AMR
confederated with Chedorlaomer, king of the Elamites, Ampbi ael
and two other kings, to make war against the kings of |
Pentapolis ; that is to say, of Sodom, Gomorrah, and An"iu^blT'
the three neighbouring cities. The kings who W’ere in
league with Amraphel worsted those of Pentapolis,
plundered their city, and carried off abundance of cap¬
tives, among whom was Lot, Abraham’s nephew : but
Abraham pursued them, retook Lot, and recovered all
the spoil. See Abraham.
AMRAS, a strong castle of Germany, seated in Ti¬
rol ; by some German writers called Arx Ambrosiana,
which was a house of pleasure for the archdukes to re¬
tire to in the heat of the summer. By others this fort
is called Omhrass; a name derived from the design of
it, which was to be a shady summer-house. It is most
delightfully situated at the foot of a mountain, but has
no great external beauty. All the furniture of ordi¬
nary use has been carried away; yet it is still remark¬
able for its galleries, which contain a very large col¬
lection of antiquities, and both natural and artificial
curiosities. It excels all others in its curious collec¬
tion of armour and coats of mail, many of which be¬
longed to very great men. There is also a great col¬
lection of gold medals, which weigh, as they affirm,
about 16 pounds*, there are also 3000 cameos and in¬
taglios, but few of them very fine. A great part of
these antiquities were sent to this place by Charles V,
On the walls and ceiling there are some very good
paintings j and, among the rest, they have an admi¬
rable picture of Noah’s ark, done by Bassano, for
which the grand duke of Tuscany is said to have o|-
fered 100,000 crowns. They have a library, which is
not in very good order ; and a gallery full of busts and
other pieces of antiquity, besides many other apart¬
ments adorned with pictures of great value. E, Long.
II. 40- N. Lat. 47. O.
AMRU-EBN-AL-AS, one of the most famous of
the first race of Saracen leaders, was descended ol Aasi,
of the tribe of Koreish, by a notorious prostitute. In
his youth he indulged in poetry, and wrote satirical
verses against the person and doctrine of Mahomet.
His zeal in opposing the new religion prompted him to
undertake an embassy to the king of Ethiopia, to sti¬
mulate him against the converts whom he had taken
under his protection. It is uncertain by what argu¬
ments he was induced to change his religious senti¬
ments j but he returned a convert to the Mahometan
faith, and, along with Caled, joined the fugitive pro¬
phet at Medina. The military talents of Amru had
begun to attract general attention, when Abubeker re¬
solved to make a new attack upon Syria, in which
he obtained the chief command. After several dis¬
plays of his military valour and address in some suc¬
cessful enterprises, he rose to the elevated station of
chief in Irak, when Caled requested the attendance of
all the Arabian generals before Damascus. During
the caliphate of Omar, he also served in Palestine, un¬
der Abu Obeidah. While besieging Caesarea, he held
a memorable conference with Constantine, the son of
the emperor Heraclius. Historians mention that their
time was chiefly occupied in producing genealogical
arguments to prove the affinity of the Greeks and Ara¬
bians, and the consequent rights of the latter as their
descendants. Amru concluded with the candid ue*-
claration “ That the Arabians were tired of living
U 2
AMR [ T
Amru-ebn- in their scorching deserts, and were resolved to re-enter
into the possession of the delightful country which was
y- the inheritance of their forefathers.” He withdrew
from the conference, after denouncing perpetual enmi¬
ty against the Greeks, unless they should either be¬
come converts to the Mahometan faith or tributaries
to that government. In the year of the Hegira 17,
A. D. 638, Amru took Caesarea, and reduced to sub¬
jection all the maritime towns of Syria.
After the death of Obeidah, Amru assumed the chief
command in Syria, in which he was confirmed by the
caliph, notwithstanding the opposition of Othman. An
expedition against Egypt being formerly resolved upon,
Amru wrote to the caliph, informing him that he
would instantly march into Egypt. Huring the pro*
gress of his march, attended only by 4000 Arabs, a
messenger from Omar arrived with a letter, containing
directions to return, if he should receive this letter in
the territories of Syria ; but if he should receive it in
those ot Egypt, he might advance, and all needful as¬
sistance would be instantly sent him. Anticipating the
contents, he hastened on to the frontiers of Egypt, and
read the instructions of the caliph. Then requesting
some of the inhabitants to be brought before him, and
inquiring at them in what country they were, and be¬
ing informed that they were in Egypt, Amru replied,
Let us, then, continue our march.” Having.taken
Pharma, he advanced to Misrah, the ancient Memphis,
and besieged it during the space of seven months. Al¬
though numerous reinforcements arrived, he would
have found it very difficult to storm the place previous
to the inundation of the Nile, if Mokawkas had not
treacherously lessened the forces of the citadel, which
was accordingly taken by storm j and the Greeks who
remained there were either made prisoners or put to the
sword. On the same spot Amru erected a city named
ruins of which are now known by the name
of Old Cairo. Ihe Coptic Christians, who composed
the great majority of the Egyptian natives, and who
were enemies to the Catholic Greeks, after this victory
submitted to Amru and engaged to provide quarters
and support for the Mussulman army.
Amrn pursued the Greeks to Alexandria, and, after
an obstinate and bjoody siege of 14 months, the city
was taken, A H. 640. During the siege, the gene-
ra., alqng with one of his officers and a slave, was ta-
tZ ^ br°Ught bef°re the governor, who
was at that time ignorant of the value of his prisoner.
Ihe manner, however, in which the general at first
conducted himself induced the governoAo suppose tha
he was a per*,,, of rank, therefore he ortlere/L to be
beheaded. ii„s order would have immediately been
earned mto effect had not the slave, who understood
the Greek tongue, which the command was given
ortunatel, chastised the imprudent language of Amru
hy giving hrnra bo* on the ear. This circumstan«
Jal”ofd| -he "T" 0 t,'he govein», and obtained a re¬
peal of Ins order By an engagement to propose an
accommodation, the captive officer obtained ffie release
of all he three ; and the acclamations of the army o„
the return of their general first informed the governor
of his egregious mistake. Amrn prevailed uZ hU
“ d '7 '? «fram from the pillage of Alexandria, ami
to content themselves with the preservation of the mo-
56 ] AMR
ney, jewels, and other valuable articles, to defray the
expence of the war. Amru was disposed to preserve
the famous library, and to have given it in a pre¬
sent to John the grammarian, but, by the command
of the caliph, he was obliged to commit it to the
flames. If the relation is not exaggerated, such was
the number of books in that famous library, that they
afforded fuel to 5000 baths during the space of six
months.
The capital being taken, all Egypt soon fell into
the hands of the conqueror. Amru observed a wise
and equitable policy, although his pecuniary demands
were great. Egypt became the storehouse to famish¬
ing Arabia, and camels carrying provisions covered the
whole road from Memphis to Medina. Amru also
employed his army in opening the canal from the Nile
to the Red sea. The adjacent parts of Africa next
felt the conquering power of Amru, but, upon the ele¬
vation of Othman, he was succeeded in the govern¬
ment of Egypt by Abdallah-ebn-Said. The inhabi¬
tants were so displeased with this change, that they
formed a confederacy, and delivered up the city to a
Grecian fleet. Amru was dispatched in haste to re¬
take Alexandria, which, after an obstinate defence,
was taken with great slaughter. The. general at
length interposing his authority, the slaughter was
stopped, and upon the spot where the massacre ceased
the Mosque of Mercy was erected. To prevent future
rebellion, he dismantled the town, and was again suc¬
ceeded by Abdallah ; and he himself retired to Medina.
When Ali ascended the throne, he became an ad¬
versary, and united himself to the interest of Moawiyah,
whom he acknowledged caliph, and swore allegiance
to him. Ali proposed to decide the quarrel by single
combat, and the valour of Amru inclined him to urge
his master to accept of the proposal j hut Moawiyah
positively declined the challenge. Amrn, however,
continued firm to the interest of Moawiyah, and look
possession of Egypt in his name, having defeated the
governor of Ali. About this time, he fortunately
escaped assassination by the hands of the frantic Cha-
regites, who had marked him out as one of the three
who, hy theiy death, were to restore peace to the con¬
tending parties. The assasin waited his arrival at the
mosque, but being prevented by a fit of the colic, his
friend who was sent to officiate for him was slain in his
stead.
In the year 663, of the Hegira 43, he died in his
government of Egypt, highly esteemed, and much re¬
gretted by his countrymen. In a pathetic oration to
his children on his deathbed, he bitterly lamented his
youthful offence in satirizing the prophet, although Ma¬
homet had forgiven the offence, and had frequently af-
firmed “ that there was no Mussulman more sincere and
stedfast in the faith than Amru.” It is reported, that
one day the caliph desired to see the sword of Amru.,
which had cut in pieces so many Christians. Amru
ciew his sword, which was a short and common scymi-
t.u ; and when Omar manifested signs of unusual sur¬
prise, he exclaimed, “ Alas ! the sword itself, without
t^e arm of its master, is neither sharper nor more
weighty than the sword of Pharezdak the poet.” The
greatness of the man, the firmness of the friend, the va¬
lour of the general, the policy of the statesman, and
the
msaiicti
AMS [ i
the sanctity of the Mahometan moralist, were united
in the character of Amru. (Mod. Univ. Hist. Gen.
Biot*.).
AMSANCTI. See Ampsancti.
AMS BURY, or AMBERSBtJRY. See Ambres-
BURY.
AMSDORFIANS, in church history, a sect of
Protestants in the 16th century, who took their name
from Amsdorf their leader. They maintained, that
good works were not only unprofitable, but were obsta¬
cles to salvation.
AMSTERDAM, the capital city of the province
of Holland and of the United Netherlands, is seated
on the river Amstel and an arm of the sea called the
Wije. The air is but indifferent, on account of the
marshes that surround it, and render the city almost
inaccessible : but this inconvenience is abundantly re¬
compensed by the utility of its commerce, which the
port serves greatly to promote j for it will contain
above 1000 large ships.
In 1204, it was nothing but a small castle, called
Amstel from the name of the river, which its lords
made a retreat for fishermen, who at first lived in huts
covered with thatch j but it soon became considerable,
and had a bridge and towers built upon it, insomuch
that it rose to a small city $ though, till the year 1490,
it was surrounded with nothing but a weak pallisado.
The walls were then built with brick, to defend it
from the incursions of the inhabitants of Utrecht, with
whom the Hollanders were often quarrelling j but some
months afterwards it was almost reduced to ashes. In
1512, it was besieged by the people of Guelderland;
who not being able to take it, set fire to the ships in
the harbour. In 1525, an Anabaptist leader, with 600
of his followers, got into the city in the night-time, at¬
tacked the townhouse, and defeated those that made
any resistance. At length they barricaded, with wool
and hop sacks, the avenues to the market place, where
these enthusiasts were posted', and so put a stop to their
fury till day appeared, at which time the citizens fell
upon them on all sides, and forced them to retire into
the townhouse, where most of them were cut to pieces.
About ten years after, there was another tumult raised
by a parcel of fanatics, consisting of men and women,
who ran about the streets stark naked, and had a de¬
sign of making themselves masters of the townhouse.
Their shrieks and cries, which were dreadful enough,
soon alarmed the inhabitants, who seized the greatest
part of them, and gave them the chastisement they de¬
served.
Amsterdam was one of the last cities that embraced
the reformed religion. It was besieged by the Holland¬
ers in 15785 and submitted after a siege of ten months.
One article of the capitulation was, a free exercise of
the Roman Catholic religion : but this was not ob¬
served by the Protestants j for they soon drove the ec¬
clesiastics, monks, and nuns, out of the city, broke the
images, and demolished the altars. From this time it
became the general rendezvous of all nations and of
every sect, which raised it to that degree of grandeur
and opulence it long enjoyed. The inhabitants were of¬
ten obliged to enlarge the bounds of their city, and in
2675 it was increased to its present extent. It was sur¬
rounded with a brick wall, and a large ditch 80 feet
broad full of running water. The walls were fortified
57 ] AMS
with 26 bastions, on each of which there is now a wind¬
mill. There are eight gates towards the land, and one
towards the water.
Amsterdam being seated on a mai'shy soil, is built on
piles of wood ; for which reason no coaches are allowed,
except to great men and physicians, who pay a tax for
that privilege 5 and all kinds of goods are drawn on
sledges. It stands so low, that they would be exposed
to inundations, if they did not secure themselves by
dykes and sluices. The finest streets are, the Keysar’s
Graft, or Emperor’s Canal 5 the Heer Graft, or Lords
Canal 5 the Cingel ; and the street of Haerlem. The
principal canal is remarkable for its houses, which are
magnificent structures of an equal height. Here are
three prodigious sluices, and a great number of canals
which cross the city in many parts, and render the
streets clean and pleasant. The canals are deep, their
sides are lined with hewn stone, they have generally
rows of trees planted on each side, and many stone
bridges over different parts of them.
The finest is that called the Arnarrack, which is
formed by the waters of the Amstel, into which the
tide comes up, and on the sides of which are two large
quays. This canal has several bridges. The principal
is that next the sea, called Pont Nenf, or the Hew
Bridge: it is 600 feet long, and 70 broad, with iron
ballustrades on each side ; it has 36 arches, of which II
are very high, and eight are shut up to enclose the
yachts. From this bridge there is a most charming
prospect of the city, port, and sea. The port is a
mile and a half in length, and above 1000 paces in-
breadth. It is always filled with a multitude of ves¬
sels, which look like a forest, or rather a floating city.
The streets in general are well paved, and the houses
built of brick or stone. Towards the sides of the ha¬
ven, the city is enclosed with great poles driven into
the ground, which are joined by large beams placed
horizontally. There are openings to let the ships in
and out, which are shut every night at the ringing of
a bell.
Amsterdam, including its fortifications, occupies a
large space of ground ; and is inhabited by very vari¬
ous population. There are people here of almost every
nation and religion in Europe, who are all tolerated
in their respective persuasions ", but none admitted
to any share in the government except the Calvinists.
There are 11 churches for the Dutch of the esta¬
blished or Calvinistical religion, with two French and
one High Dutch. The English have also three church¬
es in this city : one for the Presbyterians, whose mini¬
sters are paid by the magistrates ; a second for those of
the church of England, whose minister is paid by his
Britannic majesty j and a third for the Brownists, who
maintain their own ministers. None but the Calvinists
are allowed to have bells, and their ministers are main¬
tained by the magistrates. All these churches or con¬
gregations make up only a third part of the inhabi¬
tants of the city. The Roman Catholics, who have
27 houses or chapels for their worship, form another
third part. Here they have a long square of houses
for their beguines (a kind of nuns) to live in 5 who are
not shut up in cloisters as other nuns in Roman Catho¬
lic countries, but have liberty to walk abroad, and may
even marry when they are tired of this kind of life.
These chapels of the Roman Catholics have no bells al¬
lowed
AMS [ 158 ] AMS
A.nster- lowed them, being looked upon as conventicles, and
dam. may be shut up and opened according as the govern-
■" v 1 ment pleases. The other third part of the city is
made up of Jews, Lutherans, Arminians, Anabaptists,
&c. none of whom, as was said of the Roman Catho¬
lics, are allowed to have bells in their churches. Those
who marry, and are not of the established religion, are
obliged to be joined first by the magistrates, and then
they may perform the ceremony in their own assem¬
blies. The Jews, who are very considerable in this
place, have two synagogues j one of which, namely
the Portuguese, is the largest in Enrope. Within the
court yard, where their synagogue stands, they have
several rooms or schools, where their children are
taught Hebrew, and very carefully instructed in the
Jewish religion.
The most remarkable of the religious buildings is
the New Church, dedicated to St Catharine. It was
begun in the year 1408, others say 1414; and was
100 years in building. It had the misfortune of being
burnt in the year 1645, but was *n a short time af¬
ter built in a more magnificent manner. The foun¬
dation of a steeple is laid before this church, which
w'as designed to be very high. The piles on which it
was to be erected are not above 100 feet square, and
yet they are 6334 in number, and those very large.
Nevertheless it was thought that these vast piles, or
rather the ground, were not able to support the prodi¬
gious weight they intended to lay upon it; for which
reason the steeple remains unfinished. The pulpit is a
masterpiece of the kind, where the four evangelists and
many other curious pieces of sculpture are represented.
The glass windows are adorned with paintings, among
which the emperor Maximilian is described, presenting
an imperial crown to the burgomasters of Amsterdam
for the crest of the arms of this city. The organ is
very large, and reckoned one of the best in the world.
It has a set of pipes that counterfeit a chorus of voices,
and has 52 whole stops besides half stops, with two
rows ol keys for the feet, and three rows of keys for
the hands. Those who hear it play for the first time
imagine they hear a human voice. The grate dividing
the chancel from the body of the church is all of Co¬
rinthian brass. The branches of candlesticks are the
richest in the Seven Provinces. There is a very fine
marble monument erected to Admiral Ruyter, who was
killed at Messina.
The public buildings of a civil nature are very mag¬
nificent. The stadthouse was founded in 1648. It is
built upon 14,000 wooden piles j and its front is 282
feet long, its sides 255 feet, and its height to the roof
116. 1 here is a marble pediment in the front, whereon
a woman is carved in relievo, holding the arms of the
city , she is seated in a chair, supported by two lions
with an olive branch in her right hand j on each side*
are four Naiads who present her with a crown of palm
and laurel, and two other marine goddesses present her
with different sorts of fruit; besides, there is Neptune
with his trident, accompanied with Tritons, a sea-uni¬
corn, and a sea-horse. On the top stand three statues
in bronze, representing Justice, Strength, and Plenty.
On the top of the structure is a round tower, 50 feet
above the roof, adorned with statues, and an harmoni¬
ous chime of bells, the biggest of which weighs about
7000 pounds, and the next 6000. They are made to
2
play different tunes every month. It has not one Amutff.
handsome gate, but only seven doors to answer to the rfam.
number of the United Provinces. On the floor of the v—-
great hall are two globes, the celestial and terrestrial,
which are 22 feet in diameter and 69 in circumference.
They are made of black and white marble, and are in¬
laid with jasper and copper. In general, all the cham¬
bers are enriched with paintings, carvings, and gild¬
ings. While this stadthouse was building, the old one
was set on fire, and consumed with all the archives and
registers.
Under the stadthouse is a prodigious vault, wherein
is kept the bank of Amsterdam, where there is a vast
quantity of ingots both of gold and silver, as also bags
which are supposed to be full of money. The doors
are proof against petards, and are never opened but in
the presence of one of the burgomasters. The prisons
for debtors and criminals are likewise under the stadt¬
house j as also the guard room for the citizens, wherein,
the keys of the city are locked every night. At the
end of the great hall is the schepens or aldermen’s cham¬
ber, where civil causes are tried. Besides these, there
are the chambers of the senate and council, the burgo¬
masters chamber, the chamber of accounts, &c. In
the second story is a large magazine of arms j and on
the top of the building are six large cisterns of water,
which may be conveyed to any room in the house in
case of fire $ to prevent which the chimneys are lined
with copper.
The bourse, or exchange, where the merchants as¬
semble, is all of free-stone, and built upon 2000 wooden
piles. Its length is about 250 feet, and its breadth
140. The galleries are supported by 26 marble co¬
lumns, upon each of which are the names of the people
that are to meet there. They are all numbered ; and
there is a place fixed for every merchandise under some
one of these numbers. On the right hand of the gate
is a superb staircase which leads to the galleries j on
one side of which there are several shops, and on the
other a place to sell clothes. It is not unlike the royal
exchange in London.
The admiralty office is a house which belonged
formerly to the princes of Orange. The arsenal for
their men of war is in the harbour. This is a very
handsome building, 200 feet long and 22 broad. The
ground floor is filled with bullets $ the second floor
contains the arms and cordage ; the third their sails,
pulleys, flags, &c. This arsenal contains a great many
curiosities j among the rest an Indian canoe brought
from the straits of Davis, and a conservatory of water
on the top of the house that holds 1600 tuns of water,
which may be distributed in case of fire into 16 differ¬
ent parts by leaden pipes. Hard by this edifice you
see the dock or yard where they build their men of war.
The dock is 508 feet long, and contiguous to it are
houses for lodging the ship carpenters. The dock ia
plentifully supplied with every thing necessary for the
construction of ships.
Hie East India Company occupy a large building
divided into several offices or apartments. In some of
those they have great stores of packed goods, and
likewise a room with all sorts of drugs, tea, wax,
ambergris, and musk. Here they have a magazine
full of medicaments for surgeons chests, to furnish the
Company’s ships and garrisons in the Indies $ as also
large
AMS [ 159 ] . A M S
laro-e magazines of nutmegs* cloves, mace, and cinna- viasters or Echevins, who are like our aldermen. The Amsfct*
^‘I^r mon< jp the court yard there is a guard chamber, number is twelve; out of which some are chosen every | dam.
' where everv night the housekeeper has a watch ; and year to execute the office, and are called ZWgWHO.s'ters-
on the other side of the gate there is a chemist, who regent. Three of these are discharged every year, to
with his men prepares medicines for the Indies; and make room for three others. One of the four is kept
adjoining to this court-yard is their ware house and in to inform the new ones hf the state of affairs, and
packhouse for pepper and gross goods. In the new part also presides the three first months in the year, and the
of this city they have a magazine or palace, which others three months each ; so that when they are in
may properly be called an arsenal. The ground on this office, they may be^ compared to the lord mayor
which this building stands is 2000 feet, and square of the city of London. I hese alterations and appomt-
every wav, reckoning the moats or burgwall about it. ments are made by their own body. They dispose of all
The two rope-alleys are 1800 feet long, on the back- inferior offices which become vacant during their re¬
side of which is a store of 500 large anchors besides gcncy. They have likewise the direction of all public
small ones. In this arsenal they build the ships be- works, which regard the safety, tranquillity, and em-
longing to the Indian chamber of Amsterdam ; for bellishment of this city. The keys of the famous bank
which reason they have all sorts of workhouses here for of this city are in the hands of these magistrates.
A the artificers that serve the Company. The college consists of nine burgomasters or echevins.
The academy called the Illustrious School, is likewise who are judges in all criminal aflairs, without appeal ;
a very fine building. It was formerly a convent be- but in civil causes they may appeal to the council of the
longing to the Nuns of St Agnes. Here they teach province. There are two treasurers, a bailiff, and a
Latin, the oriental languages, theology, philosophy, pensionary. Ihe bailiff continues in his office three
history, See. The lawyers and physicians have like- years; and searches after criminals, takes care to pro¬
wise their schools. secute them, and sees their sentence executed. Ihe
Besides these, there are several hospitals or houses pensionary is the minister of the magistracy, is well
for orphans, for poor widows, for sick persons, and for versed in the laws, makes public harangues, and is
mad people ; all which are regulated with much pru- the defender of the interests of the city. ^ Ihe city of
dence. The Rasp-house, which was formerly a nun- Amsterdam contributes to the puolic income above
nerv, is now a sort of workhouse for men that behave 50,000 livres per day, besides the excise of beer, flesn,
ill. ^ They are commonly set to saw or rasp Brasil and corn ; which in all amounts to above i,6oo,oocl.
wood ; and if they will not perform their task, they are a-year. This is more than is paid by all tne rest of the
put into a cellar which the water runs into, where if provinces put together ; and yet Amsterdam hears but
they do not almost constantly ply the pump, they run the fifth rank in the assembly of the states of Holland,
the risk of being drowned. There is likewise a spin- with this distinction, that, whereas other cities send
house for debauched w'omen, where they are obliged to two members, this sends four.
spin wool, flax, and hemp, and do other work. All The militia of Amsterdam is very considerable. Ihey
the hospitals are extremely neat, and richly adorned have 60 companies, each of which has from 200 to
with pictures. They are maintained partly by volun- 300 men. Jews and Anabaptists are excluded from this
tary contributions, which are raised by putting money service, not being admitted to bear arms : But they are
into the poor’s boxes fixed up all over the city ; and obliged to contribute to the maintenance of the city-
partly by taxing all public diversions, as well at fairs as guard, which consists of 1400 soldiers; as also to the
elsewhere. Likewise every person that passes through night-watch, who patrole about the streets and pro-
any of the gates at candle-light pays a penny for the claim the hour. Besides these, there are trumpeters
same use. The charities are taken care of by cer- on every church steeple who sound every half hour ;
tain officers called deacons. The governors are nomi- and if there happens a fire, they ring the fire-bell, and
nated by the magistrates out of the most considerable show where it is. The inhabitants have excellent con-
men in the city. trivances to extinguish it speedily.
The common sort have places of diversion called The trade of Amsterdam was formerly very great :
Spiel-houses, where there are music and dancing. They for almost the whole trade of the East India Company
are much of the same kind as the hops which were so centred in this city, which besides carried on a corn-
frequent about London. If strangers go there, they merce with all the rest of the world. Ihe richest
must take care not to make their addresses to a woman spices were entirely in the hands of the East India.
that is engaged to any other man. Company, who furnished all Europe therewith. ’Ihey
There are two suburbs to this city ; One at the gate had vast quantities of military stores, with which they
of the regulars ; and the other goes as far as Overtoon, supplied several nations ; which was owing to their en-
a village a little wuy from Amsterdam, where boats grossing most of the iron-works on the Rhine and other
which come from Leyden are rolled over land upon great rivers that run into Holland. Such was the state
wooden rollers. There is likewise in this city an of Amsterdam before the late revolution. Since that
hospital for those that are infected Avith the plague ; period, however, its trade has greatly declined. I he
which was built in the year 1630, and has 360 win- long ivar with England, the consequent blockade ol the
dows. port, the loss of the colonies, and the harassing conse-
The city is governed by a senate and council, which quences of the French occupation, gave a blow to the
consists of 36 persons, called a Vroedshap, Avho enjoy prosperity of the city. Its population, which amounted
their places for life; and Avhen any of them dies, the to 230,000 in Avas reduced beloAV 200,000 m
remainder choose another in his stead. This senate 1812. The longitude of Amsterdam is 4. 30. L; the
elects deputies to be sent to the states of Holland, and latitude, 52. 25. N.
appoints the chief magistrates of the city called Burgo- Amsterdam, or Tongataboo, is also the name o ar.
usi&nc
AMS [ i6q ]
island in the South sea, said to have been discovered by
Tasman a Dutch navigator. It was also visited by
Captain Cook. Its greatest extent from east to west
is about 21 miles, and from north to south about 13.
It is broad at the east end, and runs taper towards the
west, where it turns, and runs to a point due north. It
is about six leagues to the west of Middleburg. The
shore is surrounded by a coral rock, and its most ele¬
vated parts are not above six or eight yards above the
level of the sea. S. Lat. 21. 11. W. Long. 175. It
is wholly laid out in plantations, in which are cultivat¬
ed some of the richest productions of nature.
Here are bread-fruit, cocoa-nut trees, plantains,
bananas, shaddocks, yams, and some other roots, su¬
gar-canes, and a fruit like a nectarine, called by the
natives Jighega. .There did not appear an inch of
waste ground : the roads occupied no more space than
was absolutely necessary : the fences did not take up
above lour inches each 5 and even these were not
wholly lost, for in many grew some useful trees or
plants ; it was everywhere the same, change of place
altered not the scene : nature, assisted by a little art,
nowhere appeared with more splendour than on this
island. Water is not so plentiful here as at the Socie¬
ty islands •, but the chief pointed out a pool of fresh
water unasked, to supply the ships with that necessary
article. Casuarinas, pandangs, and wild sago palms,
appear here with their various tints of green, and bar-
ringtoniae as big as the loftiest oaks. The bre^d-fruit
does not, however, thrive here with the same luxuri¬
ance as at the Society islands ; the coral rock, which
composes the basis of this spot, being much more thinly
covered with mould. J
Both men and women are of the common size of
Europeans, and their colour is that of lightish cop¬
per; they are well-shaped, have regular features, are
active, brisk, and lively. They have fine eyes, and
m general good teeth, even to an advanced age. The
women are the merriest creatures imaginable, and in¬
cessant talkers. In general they appear to be modest;
although there was no want of those of a different
stamp. Among the natives, who swam about the ship
very vociferously, were a considerable number of wo¬
men, who wantoned in the water like amphibious
creatures, and were easily persuaded to come on board
perfectly naked; but none of them ventured to stay
there after sunset, but returned to the shore to pass the
mght like the greater part of the inhabitants, under
the shade of the wild wood which lined the coast.
I here they lighted great fires, and were heard con-
yersing a most the whole night. The hair of both sexes
m general is black, but especially that of the women ;
both sexes wear it short except a single lock on the to^
oi the head, and a small quantity on each side. The
men cut or shave their beards quite close ; which ope¬
ration they perform with two shells. The hair of many
was observed to be burnt at the ends, and strewed with
a white powder which was found, on examining it, to
be lime made ot shells or coral, which had corroded or
burnt the hair ; some made use of a blue powder, and
The dress of both sexes consists of a piece of rWh
or matting wrapped round the waist, and l,L “nn
down below the knees. From the waist upwards fhey
AMS
are generally naked ; and it seems to be a custom to
anoint these parts every morning. The practice of
tattowing, or puncturing the skin, likewise prevails.
The men are tattowed from the middle of the thigh to'
above the hips ; the women have it only on their arms
and fingers, and on these parts but very slightly.
Their ornaments were amulets, necklaces, and brace¬
lets, the bones, shells, and beads of mother-of-pearl, tor¬
toise-shell, &c. which are worn by men as well as wo¬
men. The women also wear on their fingers neat rings
made of tortoise-shell, and pieces in their ears about the
size of a small quill: but here ornaments are not com¬
monly worn, though all have their ears pierced. They
have also a curious apron, made of the cocoa-nut shell;
and composed of a number of small pieces sewed to¬
gether in such a manner as to form stars, half-moons,
little squares, &c.; it is studded with beads and shells,
and covered with red feathers, so as to have a pleasing
effect. They make the same kind of cloth, and of
the same materials, as at Otaheite, though they have
not such a variety, nor do they make any so fine ;
but as they have a method of glazing it, it is more
durable, and will resist rain for some time, which the
other cloth would not. Their colours are black, brown,
jcllow, puiple, and red; all made from vegetables.
They make various sorts of matting, some of a very fine
texture, which is generally used for clothing ; and the
thick and stronger sort serves to sleep upon, and to
make sails for their canoes, &c. Among other useful
utensils, they have various sorts of baskets, some made
of the same materials as their mats, and others of the
twisted fibres of cocoa-nuts. These are not only du¬
rable, but beautiful, being generally composed of dif¬
ferent colours, and studded with beads made of shells
or bones.. They have many little nick-nacks among
them, which show that they neither want taste to de-
sign, nor skill to execute, whatever they take in
hand. Their fishing implements are much the same
as in the other islands : here was purchased a fish-net
made like our casting nets, knit of very firm though
slender threads. °
Notwithstanding their friendly disposition, those peo¬
ple have very formidable weapons ; some of their spears
lave many barbs, and must be very dangerous weapons
when they take effect. A large flat shell or breast¬
plate was purchased, made of a roundish bone, white
and polished like ivory, about 18 inches in diameter,
vvLich appeared to have belonged to an animal of the
whale tribe.
. AjVlULE T, a charm, or preservative against mis¬
chief, witchcraft, or diseases.
Amulets.were made of stone, metal, simples, ani-
suggeste 1 ^ a W°ri1 6Ver^ t^at ^magInat«011
Sometimes they consisted of words, characters, and
sentences, ranged in a particular order, and engraved
upon wood, &c. and worn about the neck, or some
other part of.the body. See Abracadabra.
t ot ici times they were neither written nor engrav-
ei ; jUi. piepared with many superstitious ceremonies,
great lega».fl being usually paid to the influence of the
stars I he Arabians have given to this species of
amulet the name of talisman.
All nations have been fond of amulets: the Jews,
were extremely superstitious in the use of them, to
drive
AmstfN
ilani,
Amulet,
I
AMU [ i
•nnkt drive away diseases: and the Mishna forbids them, un-
nurath. less received from an approved man who had cured at
-y—least three persons before by the same means.
Among the Christians of the early times, amulets
were made of the wood of the cross, or ribbands with
a text of Scripture written in them, as preservatives
against diseases. Notwithstanding the progress of learn¬
ing and refinement, there is not any country in Eu¬
rope, even at this day, where they do not believe in some
charm or other. The pope is supposed to have the vir¬
tue of making amulets, which he exercises in the con¬
secrating of Agnus Dei’s, &c. The sponge which has
wiped his table, was formerly in great veneration as a
preservative from wounds, and trom death itself: on
this account it was sent with great solemnity by Gre¬
gory II. to the duke of Aquitain.
Amulets are now much fallen from the repute they
were anciently in j yet the great Mr Boyle alleges them
as an instance of the ingress of external effluvia into
the habit, in order to show the great porosity of the
human body. He adds, that he is persuaded some of
these external medicines do answer $ for that he him¬
self, having been once subject to bleed at the nose, and
reduced to use several remedies to check it, found the
moss of a dead man’s skull, though only applied so as
to touch the skin till the moss was warm thereby, the
most effectual of any. The same Mr Boyle shows how
the effluvia, even of cold amulets, may, in course of
time, pervade the pores of a living animal ; by suppo¬
sing an agreement between the pores of the skin and
the figure of the corpuscles. Bellini has attempted to
demonstrate the possibility of the thing in his last pro¬
positions De Febribas; and the like is done by Hr
Wainwright, Dr Keill, &c.
AMURATH or Amurat I. the fourth emperor
of the Turks, and one of the greatest princes of the
Ottoman empire, succeeded Solyman in 1390. He
took from the Greeks Gallipoli in Thrace, andAdriano-
ple, which last he chose for the place of his residence.
He defeated the prince of Bulgaria, conquered Misnia,
chastised his rebellious bashaws, and is said to have
gained 36 battles. This prince, in order to form a body
of devoted troops that might serve as the immediate
guards of his person and dignity, appointed his offi¬
cers to seize annually, as the imperial property, the
fifth part of the Christian youth taken in war. These,
after being instructed in the Mahometan religion, inu¬
red to obedience by severe discipline, and trained to
warlike exercises, were formed into a body distinguish¬
ed by the name of Janizaries, or New Soldiers. E-
very sentiment which enthusiasm can inspire, every
mark of distinction that the favour of the prince could
confer, were employed in order to animate this body
with martial ardour, and with a consciousness of its own
pre-eminence. The Janizaries soon became the chief
strength and pride of the Ottoman armies, and were
distingi ished above all the troops whose duty it was to
attend on the person of the sultan.—At length the
death of Lazarus, despot of Servia, who had endea¬
voured in vain to stop the progress of Amurath’s arms,
touched Milo, one of his servants, in so sensible a man¬
ner, that, in revenge, he stabbed the sultan in the
midst of his troops, and killed him upon the spot,
A. D. 1389, after he had reigned 23 years.
Amurath II. the 10th emperor of the Turks, was
Vol II, Part I. t
?! ] AMU
the eldest son of Mahomet I. and succeeded his fa-
ther in 1421. He besieged Constantinople and Bel- t.—.—v  
grade without success ; but he took Thessalonica from
the Venetians, and compelled the prince of Bosnia
and John Castriot prince of Albania to pay him tri¬
bute. He obliged the latter to send his three sons as
hostages 5 among whom was George, celebrated in hi¬
story by the name of Scariderbeg. John Hunniades de¬
feated Amurath’s troops, and obliged him to make peace
with the Christian princes in 1442. These princes
afterwards breaking the peace, Amurath defeated them
in the famous battle of Varna, November 10. 1444,
which proved so fatal to the Christians, and in which
Ladislaus king of Hungary was killed. He after¬
wards defeated Hunniades, and killed above 20,000
of his men ; but George Castriot, better known by
the name of Scanderbeg, being re-established in the
estates of his father, defeated the Turks several times,
and obliged Amurath to raise the siege of Croia, the
capital of Albania. Amurath died, chagrined with
his ill success, and infirm with age, February 11. 1451,
at Adrianople. It is observed to this prince’s honour,
that he always kept his treaties with the greatest fide¬
lity.
Amurath IV. surnamed the Valiant, was the son
of Achmet I, and in the year 1622, at the age of
13, succeeded his uncle Mustapha. Bagdad fell into
the hands of the Persians, and several other disastrous
events clouded the commencement of his reign. The
pacha of Erzerum had raised the standard of rebellion
in the former reign ; and, continuing his opposition, he
overran many of the provinces of Lesser Asia. But
the military talents of the sultan were soon roused to
exertion j and, making.peace with Germany, he hasten¬
ed with a formidable army to regain Bagdad. But new
rebellions in his Asiatic dominions, and several other
causes, prevented him from recovering the city. The
Spahis also rebelled at home, and several viziers were
slain during the tumults of the Porte.
The natural dispositions of the young monarch were
ill adapted to his situation, and extremely destructive
to his people. It is reported, that a flash of lightning
rushing into his chamber during the darkness of the
uight, strongly impaired his reason, and produced a
violence and intemperance of character which remain¬
ed to the end of his days. It was therefore nothing
more than reasonable to expect that his policy should
be variable and inconstant 5 it appears, however, that
he actively resisted the foes who pressed upon his do¬
minions from difl’erent quarters. The recovery of
Bagdad being still his favourite object, in the year
1637, he again marched against it $ and after 30
days of unremitting assault, with the expence of much
blood, he took possession of the city. By pushing his
men forward to the attack by the point of the scimi¬
tar, and by slaughtering 30,000 Persians in cold
blood after their surrender, he displayed the brutal fe¬
rocity of his disposition. One person alone is report¬
ed to have moved his obdurate heart on the present
occasion. A famous player upon the harp entreated
those who were sent to massacre him, to allow him to
speak to the sultan previous to his death. Informed
who he was, the sultan requested him to give a speci¬
men of his skill in his profession : with this he readily
complied, and toadied his harp so melodiously, and
X sung
AMY [ 162 ] AMY
4 murath, sung in such pathetic strains the lamentations on the tra-
Amyci®. gedy of Bagdad, intermixed with the praises of Amu-
 rath, that the hard heart of the cruel monarch being at
length softened, he melted into tears, and saved both
the musician and the remaining inhabitants. Ihe loss
sustained by the Persians at this time, so reduced their
military strength, that they were unable for a long pe¬
riod to attack the Ottoman empire.
The violence of Amurath soon enfeebled his con¬
stitution j and the fruits of his debaucheries and ex¬
cesses were obvious even in the prime of life. At
the age of 31, he fell a victim to an excess of revel¬
ling in the feast of Bairam, in the year 1640. Be¬
holding his end approaching, he is reported to have
given orders to assassinate his brother, in order to secure
the throne for his favourite Mustapha ; but the affec¬
tion of his mother prevented the cruel mandate from
being carried into effect. The manners and amorous
adventures of this monarch have afforded materials
for numerous Turkish descriptions full of extrava¬
gance, singularity, and cruelty. He surpassed all his
predecessors in the abominable vice of intoxication,
and even violated the established laws of the country,
by issuing an edict permitting the sale and use of wine.
But, as if it was not sufficient to violate the common
jaw, he also opposed himself to the common usage of
the country, by shutting up the coffeehouses, and pro¬
hibiting opium and tobacco upon the pain of death.
The wanton cruelty of this prince was almost unex¬
ampled. During his hours of dissipation, he would
rush forth into the streets with a drawn sword in his
hand, and cut in pieces all the unhappy persons who
chanced to be in his way. Nay, even in his calmest
moments, he often discharged arrows from his upper
windows at the innocent passengers as they went
along. In short, to such extravagance did his cruelty
extend, that the very name of Amurath carried ter¬
ror along with it, and the opium-chewers fell into
fits upon the simple mention thereof. The number of
persons that fell victims to his cruelty during a reign
of 17 years, amounted to no less than 14,000 ; among
whom were many officei-s of high power and distinc¬
tion in the state. The meanness of his dispositions,
however, manifested themselves in his descending to
familiarities with his favourites, and even joining in
the meanest services. He also displayed a singular hu¬
mour in making marriages between old men and girls,
and young men and women of fourscore. It may,
however, on the whole, be asserted, that if he had not
been intoxicated with wine and power’, the qualities
of his mind and body might have rendered him a more
respectable member of society. He was very remark¬
able for swiftness of foot and dexterity in drawing the
bow. The reverses of fortune made small impression
on his mind, and he pursued with resolute firmness
any object in which he seriously engaged. Dissem¬
bling, avaricious, and blasphemous, he gave full proof,
that his moral qualities were greatly depraved. {Mod.
Un. Hist. Gen. Biog.).
AMYCLAE, a city of Laconia, distant about 18
miles from the metropolis, founded by Amyclas the
son of Lacedaemon, and famed afterwards for the birth
of Castor and Pollux the sons of Tyndarus, eighth
king of Sparta. It was afterwards famed for sending a
considerable colony of its own inhabitants into Upper
Calabria, who built there a city which they called by Amyclw
the same name. This last city was situated between ||
Cajeta and Terracina, and gave its name to the neigh- t Amyot.
bouring sea. According to Pliny and Solinus, the r~~‘
territory of Amyclae was so infested with vipers and
other serpents, that the inhabitants were obliged to
abandon their dwellings and settle elsewhere. Among
the ancient poets, the Amycli, or inhabitants of this
city, obtained the epithet of taciti, “ silent.” The rea¬
son of this was, either because it was built by the La¬
cedaemonians, who, as they followed the doctrine of
Pythagoras, were always inculcating the precept of
silence, and thence called taciti: or because of a law
which obtained in this place, forbidding any one, un¬
der severe penalties, to mention the approach of an
enemy. Before this law was made, the city was daily
alarmed by false reports, as if the enemy had been already
at the gates. From terrors of this kind the above-men-
tiohed law indeed delivered them 5 but, in the end, it
proved the ruin of the city : for the Dorians appear¬
ing unexpectedly under the walls, no one ventured to
transgress the law j so that the city was easily taken.
They reduced it to an inconsiderable hamlet j in which,
however, were seen some of the remains of its ancient
grandeur. One of the finest buildings that escaped the
common ruin, was the temple and statue of Alexandra,
whom the inhabitants pretended to be the same with
Cassandra the daughter of Priam.
AMYGDALUS, the Almond and Peach. See
Botany Index.
AMYLACEOUS, from amylum, “ starch 5” a term
applied to the fine flour of farinaceous seeds, in which
consists their nutritive part. See Bread.
AMYNTA, in literary history, a beautiful pastoral
comedy, composed by Tasso j the model of all drama¬
tic pieces wherein shepherds are actors. The Pastor
Fido, and Ftlli de Sciro, are only copies of this excel¬
lent piece.
AMYNTOR, u/ttvvrv£, formed of the verb etftvvu, 1
defend or avenge, properly denotes a person who de¬
fends or vindicates a cause. In this sense, Mr Toland
entitles his defence of Milton’s life, Amyntor, as being
a vindication of that work against Mr Blackball and
others, who had charged him with questioning the au¬
thority of some of the books of the New Testament,
and declaring his doubt that several pieces under the
name of Christ and his Apostles, received now by the
whole Christian church, were supposititious.
AMYOT, James, bishop of Auxerre and great al¬
moner of France, was born of an obscure family at Me¬
lon, the 30th of October 1514, and studied philosophy
at Paris, in the college of Cardinal Le Moine. He
was naturally dull and heavy j but diligence and appli¬
cation made amends for these natural defects. He left
Paris at the age of 23 ; and went to Bourges with
the Sieur Colin, who had the abbey of St Ambrose
in that city. At the recommendation of this abbot,
a secretary of state took Amyot into his house to be
tutor to his children. The great improvements they
made under his direction induced the secretary to re¬
commend him to the Princess Margaret duchess of
Berry, only sister of Francis I. and by means of this
recommendation Amyot was made public professor of
Greek and Latin in the university of Bourges. It
was during this time he translated into French the
“ Amours
\myot
A.na.
ANA t i63 3
« Amours of Theagines and Cliariclea,” which Fran- title in Ana.
cis I. was so pleased with, that he conferred upon him
the abbey of Bellosane. He also translated Plutarch’s
1 Lives, ■which he dedicated to the king j and after¬
wards undertook that of Plutarch’s Morals, which he
ended in the reign of Charles IX. and dedicated to
that prince. Charles conferred upon him the abbey of
St Cornelius de Compiegne, and made him the great
almoner of France and bishop of Auxerre. He died in
I593> aSed 79*
AMYRALDISM, a name given by some writers to
the doctrine of universal grace, as explained and assert¬
ed by Amyraldus, or Moses Amyrault, and others his
followers, among the reformed in France, towards the
middle of the 17th century.
This doctrine principally consisted of the following
particulars, viz. that God desires the happiness of all
men, and none are excluded by a divine decree $ that
none can obtain salvation without faith in Christ j Jhat
God refuses to none the power of believing, though he
does not grant to all his assistance, that they may im¬
prove this power to saving purposes ; and that many
perish through their own fault. Those who embraced
this doctrine were called Universalists; though it is
evident they rendered grace universal in words, but
partial in reality, and are chargeable with greater in¬
consistencies than the Supralapsarians.
AMYRAULT, Moses, an eminent French Prote¬
stant divine, born at Bourgueil in Touraine in 1566.
He studied at Saumur, where he was chosen professor
of theology ; and his learned works gained him the
esteem of Catholics as well as Protestants, particularly
of Cardinal Richelieu, who consulted him on a plan of
reuniting their churches, which, however, as may well
be supposed, came to nothing. He published a piece in
which he attempted to explain the mystery of predes¬
tination and grace, which occasioned a controversy be¬
tween him and some other divines. He also wrote, An
Apology for the Protestants 5 a Paraphrase on the New
Testament; and several other books. This eminent
divine died in 1664.
AMYRIS. See Botany Index.
ANA, among physicians, denotes a quantity equal
to that of the preceding ingredient. It is abbreviated
thus, aa or a.
Ana, in matters of literature, a Latin termination,
adopted into the titles of several books in other lan¬
guages.—Anas, or books in ana, are collections of the
memorable sayings of persons of learning and wit; much
the same with what we otherwise called table-talk.
Wolfius has given the history of books in ana, in
the preface to the Casauboniana. He there observes,
that though such titles be new, the thing itself is very
old ; that Xenophon’s books of the deeds and sayings
of Socrates, as well as the dialogues of Plato, are So-
cratiana; that the apophthegms of the philosophers
collected by Diogenes Laertius, the sentences of Py¬
thagoras and those of Epictetus, the works of Athe-
ngeus, Stobeus, and divers others, are so many anas.
Even the Gemara of the Jews, with several other ori¬
ental writings, according to Wolfius, properly belong
to the same class. To this head of ana may likewise
be referred the Orphica, the Pythagorsea, iEsopica,
Pyrrhonea, &c.
Scaligerana was the first piece that appeared with a
ANA
It was composed by Isan de Vassan, a
young Champanois, recommended to Jos. Scaliger by
Casaubon. Being much with Scaliger, who was daily
visited by the men of learning at Leyden, De Vassan ,,
wrote down whatever things of any moment he heard
Scaliger say. The work was not printed till many
years after at Geneva in 1666. Patin. Let. 43 —
Soon after came the Perroniana, Thuana, Naudgeana,
Patineana, Sorberiana, Menagiana, Anti-Menagiana,
Furetiana, Chevraeana, Leibnitziana, Arlequiniana,
Poggiana, &c. See Ana, SUPPLEMENT.
ANABAPTISTON, the same with Abaptiston.
ANABAPTISTS, a name which has been indiscri¬
minately applied to Christians of very different princi¬
ples and practices ; though many of them object to the
denomination, and hold nothing in common, besides the
opinion that baptism ought always to be performed by
immersion, and not administered before the age of dis¬
cretion.
The word Anabaptist is compounded of “ new,”
and “ a baptistand in this sense the No-
vatians, the Cataphrygians, and the Donatists, may be
considered as a kind of Anabaptists in the earlier ages,
though not then denoted by this name; for they con¬
tended, that those Christians of the Catholic church
who joined themselves to their respective parties should
be rebaptized. But we must not class under the same
denomination those bishops of Asia and Africa, who,
in the third century, maintained, that baptism admi¬
nistered by those whom they called heretics was not
valid, and therefore that such of them as returned in¬
to their churches ought to be rebaptized. Nor do the
English and Dutch Baptists consider the denomination
as at all applicable to their sect: by whom the baptism
appointed by Christ is held to be “ nothing short of im¬
mersion upon a personal profession offaith of which
profession infants being incapable, and sprinkling be¬
ing no adequate symbol of the thing included, the bap¬
tizing of proselytes to their communion, who in their
infancy had undergone the ceremony of sprinkling, can¬
not, it is urged, be interpreted a repetition of the bap¬
tismal ordinance.
Anabaptists, in a strict and proper sense, appear to
be those who not only rebaptize, when they arrive at
an adult age, persons that were baptized in their in¬
fancy, but also, as often as any person comes from
one of their sects to another, or as often as any one is
excluded from their communion and again received
into the bosom of the church, they baptize him. And
such were many of the German Baptists. But the
single opinion common to all the sects to which the
name of Anabaptists has been indiscriminately applied,
is that of the invalidity of infant baptism, in whatever
way administered: And hence the general denomina¬
tion of Antipcedobaptists ; which included Anabaptists,
Baptists, Mennonites, Waterlandians, &c. as distin¬
guished by their respective peculiarities; though Ana¬
baptists seems to have been adopted by most writers as
the general term.
To the above peculiar notion concerning the baptis¬
mal sacrament, the Anabaptists added principles of a
different nature, depending upon certain ideas which
they entertained concerning a perfect church establish¬
ment, pure in its members, and free from the institu¬
tions of human policy.
X 2 The
Ana
il
Anabap¬
tists.
ANA [164] ANA
i.n*hap- Tlie Anabaptists appear to have made little noise,
tist*. or to have been little noticed, before the time ot the
—v—  reformation in Germany. The most prudent and ra¬
tional part of them considered it possible, by human
wisdom, industry, and vigilance, to purify the church
from the contagion of the wicked, provided the man¬
ners and spirit of the primitive Christians could but
recover their lost dignity and lustre j and seeing the at¬
tempts of Luther, seconded by several persons of emi¬
nent piety, prove so successful, they hoped that the
happy period was arrived in which the restoration of
the church to purity was to be accomplished, under the
divine protection, by the labours and counsels of pious
and eminent men. Others, far from being satisfied
with the plan of reformation proposed by Luther, look¬
ed upon it as much beneath the sublimity of their views j
and consequently undertook a more perfect reformation,
or, to express more properly their visionary enterprise,
they proposed to found a new church, entirely spiritual,
and truly divine.
This sect was soon joined by great numbers, and
(as usually happens in sudden revolutions of this na¬
ture) by many persons, whose characters and capacities
were very different, though their views seemed to turn
upon the same object. Their progress was rapid j for,
in a very short space of time, their discourses, visions,
and predictions, excited commotions in a great part of
Europe, and drew into their communion a prodigious
multitude, whose ignorance rendered them easy victims
to the illusions of enthusiasm. The most pernicious
faction of all those which composed this motley mul¬
titude, was that which pretended that the founders of
the new and perfect church, already mentioned, were
under the direction of a divine impulse, and were arm¬
ed against all opposition by the power of working mi¬
racles. It was this faction that, in the year 1521, be¬
gan their fanatical work, under the guidance of Munzer,
Stuhner, Storck, &c.
These persons were disciples of Luther j hut well
knowing that their opinions were such as would receive
no sanction from him, they availed themselves of his
absence to disseminate them in Wittenburg, and had
the address to overreach the piety of Melancthon.
Their principal purpose was to gain over the populace,
and to form a considerable party. To effect this, says
Bayle, they were industrious and active, each in his
own way. Storck wanting knowledge, boasted of in¬
spiration *, and Stuhner, who had both gerius and eru¬
dition, laboured at commodious explications of Scrip¬
ture. Not content with discrediting the court of
Rome, and decrying the authority of consistories', they
taught, That among Christians, who had the precepts
of the gospel to direct, and the Spirit of God to guide
them, the office of magistracy was not only unneces¬
sary, but an unlawful encroachment on their spiritual
liberty ; that the distinctions occasioned by birth, or
rank, or wealth, being contrary to the spirit of the
gospel, which considers all men as equal, should he en¬
tirely abolished j that all Christians, throwing their
possessions into one common stock, should live together
in that state of equality which becomes members of
the same family j that as neither the laws of nature
nor the precepts of the New Testament had placed any
restraint upon men with regard to the number of wives
which they might marry, they should use that liberty Anabap.
which God himself had granted to the patriarchs. tins.
They employed at first the various arts of persuasion '"T"--'
in order to propagate their doctrine. They preached,
exhorted, admonished, and reasoned, in a manner that
seemed proper to impress the multitude *, and related a
great number of visions and revelations with which
they pretended to have been favoured from above. But
when they saw that these methods of making proselytes
were not attended with such rapid success as they
fondly expected, and that the ministry of Luther and
other eminent reformers was detrimental to their cause,
they then had recourse to more expeditious measures,
and madly attempted to propagate their fanatical doc¬
trine by force of arms. Munzer and his associates, in
the year 1525, put themselves at the head of a numer¬
ous army, composed for the most part of the peasants
of Suabia, Thuringia, Franconia, and Saxony j and
declared war against all laws, government, and magi¬
strates of every kind, under the chimerical pretext that
Christ was now to take the reins of civil and ecclesia¬
stical government into his own hands, and to rule alone
over the nations. But this seditious crowd was routed
and dispersed, without much difficulty, by the elector
of Saxony and other princes j and Munzer their ring¬
leader ignominiously put to death, and his factious coun¬
sellors scattered abroad in different places.
Many of his followers, however, survived and pro¬
pagated their opinions through Germany, Switzerland,
and Holland. In the year 1533, a Party of them set¬
tled at Munster under the direction of two Anabaptist
prophets, John Matthias a baker of Haerlem, and
John Bockboldt a journeyman taylor of Leyden. Ha¬
ving made themselves masters of the city, they deposed
the magistrates, confiscated the estates of such as had
escaped, and deposited the wealth they amassed toge¬
ther in a public treasury for common use. They made
preparations of every kind for the defence of the city:
and sent out emissaries to the Anabaptists in the Low
Countries, inviting them to assemble at Munster, which
was now dignified with the name of Mount Sion, that
from hence they might be deputed to reduce all the
nations of the earth under their dominion. Matthias,
who was the first in command, was soon cut oft’ in an act
of frenzy by the bishop of Munster’s army j and was
succeeded by Bockboldt, who was proclaimed by a
special designation of Heaven, as he pretended, king
of Sion, and invested with legislative powers like those
of Moses. The extravagancies of Bockholdt were too
numerous to he recited : it will be sufficient to add,
that the city of Munster was taken after a long siege
and an obstinate resistance j and Bockholdt, the mock
monarch, was punished with a most painful and igno¬
minious death.
It must, however, be acknowledged, that the true
rise of the numerous insurrections of this period ought
not to be attributed to religious opinions. The first
insurgents groaned under the most grievous oppres¬
sions j they took up arms principally in defence of
their civil liberties ; and of the commotions that took
place, the Anabaptist leaders above mentioned seem
rather to have availed themselves, than to have been
the prime movers. See the article REFORMATION.—
That a great part of the main body, indeed, consisted
2
ANA [ 165 ] ANA
of Anabaptists, seems indisputable ; ami whatever fa-
tisu naticism existed among them would naturally be called
1! forth or be inflamed by the situations that occurred,
,nab0' and run riot in its wildest shapes. At the same time
, . it appears from history, that a great part also con¬
sisted of Roman Catholics, and a still greater of per¬
sons who had scarcely any religious principles at all.
Indeed, when we read of the vast numbers that were
concerned in those insurrections, of whom it is report¬
ed that 100,000 fell by the sword, it appears reason¬
able to conclude that a great majority of them were not
Anabaptists.
Before concluding this article, it must be remarked,
that the Baptists or Mennonites in England and Hol¬
land are to be considered in a very different light from
the enthusiasts we have been describing: And it ap¬
pears equally uncandid and invidious, to trace up their
distinguishing sentiment, as some of their adversaries
have done, to those obnoxious characters, and there to
stop, in order as it were to associate with it the ideas
of turbulence and fanaticism, with which it certainly
has no natural connection. Their coincidence with
some of those oppressed and infatuated people in deny¬
ing baptism to infants, is acknowledged by the Bap¬
tists } but they disavow the practice which the appella¬
tion of Anabaptists implies $ and their doctrines seem
referable to a more ancient and respectable origin.
They appear supported by history in considering them¬
selves as the descendants of the Waldenses, who were
so grievously oppressed and persecuted by the despotic
heads of the Roman hierarchy 5 and they profess an
equal aversion to all principles of rebellion on one hand,
and to all suggestions of fanaticism on the other. See
Baptists. The denomination of Mennonites, by which
they are distinguished in Holland, they derive from
Menno, the famous man who latterly gave consistence
and stability to their sect. See Mennonitf.s.
ANABASII, in antiquity, were couriers who were
sent on horseback or in chariots, with dispatches of im¬
portance.
ANABASIS. See Botany Index.
ANABATHRA, in ancient writers, denotes a kind
of steps or ladder whereby to ascend to some eminence.
In this sense we read of the anabathra of theatres, pul¬
pits, &c. Anabathra appears to have been sometimes
also applied to ranges of seats rising gradually over each
other.
Anabathra is more particularly applied to a kind
of stone blocks raised by the highway sides, to assist
travellers in mounting or alighting, before the use of
stirrups was invented. The first author of this contri¬
vance among the Romans w'as C. Gracchus brother of
Tiberius.
ANABLEPS, in Ichthyology, the trivial name of a
species of cobitis. See CoBlTis.
ANABOA, a small island situated near the coast of
Loango in Africa, in E. Long. 90. N. Lat. 1°. Here
are several fertile valleys, which produce plenty of ba¬
nanas, oranges, pine apples, lemons, citrons, tama¬
rinds, cocoa nuts, &c. together with vast quantities of
cotton. In this island are two high mountains, which,
being continually covered with clouds, occasion fre¬
quent rains.
ANABOLALUM, or Anabole, in antiquity, a kind
of great or upper coat, worn over the tunica.
ANABOLEUS, in antiquity, an appellation given Anaboku*
to grooms of the stable, or equerries, who assisted their ll
masters in mounting their horses. As the ancients had Anachurw*.
no stirrups, or instruments that are now in use for
mounting a horse, they either jumped upon his back,
or were aided in mounting by anabolei.
ANACALYPTERIA, according to Suidas, were
presents made to the bride by her husband’s relations
and friends, when she first uncovered her face and show¬
ed herself to men. These presents were also called
iTTccvheud : for, among the Greeks, virgins before mar¬
riage were under strict confinement, being rarely per¬
mitted to appear in public, or converse with the other
sex ; and when allowed that liberty, wore a veil over
their faces, termed or which was
not left off in the presence of men till the third day af¬
ter marriage ; whence, according to Hesychius, this day
was also called anacalypterion.
ANACAMPSEROS, in Botany, a synonyme of the
portulaca and several other plants.
ANACAMPTERIA, in ecclesiastical antiquity, a
kind of little edifices adjacent to the churches, designed
for the entertainment of strangers and poor persons.
ANACAMPTIC, a name applied by the ancients to
that part of optics which treats of reflection, being the
same with what is now called Catoptrics.
ANACARDIUM, or Cashew-nut tree. See
Botany Index.
ANACEPHALiEOSIS, in Rhetoric, the same with
Recapitulation. See Recapitulation.
ANACHARSIS, a Scythian philosopher, who liv¬
ed about 600 years before Christ. His father was one
of the chiefs of his nation, and married a woman of
Greece. Instructed in the Greek language by bis
mother, he caught the flame for Grecian literature,
and prevailed upon the king to intrust him with an
embassy to Athens. Arrived in that renowned ci¬
ty, he was introduced to Solon by one of his own
countrymen, named Foxaris; and it is reported, that
when he came to the door of Solon, he requested a
servant to inform his master, that Anacharsis a Scy¬
thian was at the door, and was desirous of being re¬
ceived as his friend and guest. Solon is said to have
returned for answer, that “ friendships are best formed
at home.” To this the Scythian philosopher replied,
“ then let Solon, who is at home, make me his friend
and receive me into his house.” Solon was so asto¬
nished at the propriety of this reply, that he gave
him admittance ; and, finding him upon farther ac¬
quaintance worthy of his confidence, he honoured him
with his friendship. From such a well qualified master,
Anacharsis rapidly acquired a knowledge of the w'is-
dom of Greece, and the literature then in circulation.
•By the influence of Solon he was introduced to the
principal characters of Athens, and was the first stran¬
ger who was honoured with the title of citizen by the
Athenians.
After he had resided several years at Athens, he
travelled through difl’erent countries in quest of know1-
ledge, and then returned to his native country in¬
flamed with the desire of instructing them in the laws
and the religion of the Greeks. But his countrymen
w’ere not prepared to profit by his instructions j and
while he was performing sacrifice to the goddess Cy-
bele, correspondent to a vow which he had made on
his
Anacharsis
II .
Anaclastic.
ANA [ 166 ] ANA
his way tome, he was slain by an arrow, said to have
proceeded from the king’s own hand. Thus fell the
Scythian philosopher a victim to the folly and igno¬
rance of his countrymen, who wantonly rejected the
wisdom and learning of Greece.
The energetic manner in which he was accustomed
to express himself, gave birth to the proverbial saying,
“ Scythian eloquence.” Although the potter’s wheel
was invented in the days of Homer, some have inac¬
curately ascribed its invention to Anacharsis. The
following ingenious sayings may be mentioned as a spe¬
cimen of his genius. “ The best way of teaching a
youth sobriety, is to set before his eyes a drunken man.
'The vine bears three sorts of fruit j the first pleasure,
the second intoxication, the third remorse. An ape is
by nature ridiculous j man by art and study. An Athe¬
nian of bad morals reproached him with being a Scy¬
thian : to him he replied, “ My country may be a dis¬
grace to me, but you are a disgrace to your country.”
Some suppose, that the epistles which bear his name are
spurious. (Gen. Biog.').
ANACHORET, in church history, denotes & her¬
mit, or solitary monk, who i*etires from the society of
mankind into some desert, with a view to avoid the
temptations of the world, and to be more at leisure for
meditation and prayer. Such were Paul, Anthony,
and Hilarian, the first founders of monastic life in E-
gypt and Palestine.
Anachorets, among the Greeks, consist principally
of monks, who retire to caves or cells, with the leave of
the abbot, and an allowance from the monastery \ or
who, weary of the fatigues of the monastery, purchase
a spot of ground, to which they retreat, never appear¬
ing in tbe monastery unless on solemn occasions.
ANACHRONISM, in matters of literature, an er¬
ror with respect to chronology, whereby an event is
placed earlier than it really happened. The word is
compounded of «»*, “ higher,” and “ time.”
Such is that of Virgil, who placed Dido in Africa at
the time of iEneas, though in reality she did not come
there till 300 years after the taking of Troy.—An er¬
ror on the other side, whereby a fact is placed later and
lower than it should be, is called a parachronism.
ANACLASTIC glasses, a kind of sonorous
phials or glasses, chiefly made in Germany, which have
the property of being flexible, and emitting a vehe¬
ment noise by the human breath.—They are also called
vexing glasses by the Germans {vcxier glaser}, on ac¬
count of the fright and disturbance they occasion by
their resilition. The anaclastic glasses are a low kind
of phials with flat bellies, resembling inverted funnels,
whose bottoms are very thin, scarce surpassing the
thickness of an onion peel: this bottom is not quite
flat, but a little convex. But upon applying the mouth-
to the orifice, and gently inspiring, or as it were
sucking out the air, the bottom gives way with a pro¬
digious crack, and the convex becomes concave. On
the contrary, upon expiring or breathing gently into
the orifice of the same glass, the bottom with no less
noise bends back to its former place, and becomes
gibbous as before.—The anaclastic glasses first taken
notice of were in the castle of Goldbach; where one
of the academists Natures Curiosorum, having seen and
made experiments on them, published a piece express
on their history and phenomena. They are all made of
a fine white glass. It is to be observed, 1. That if the Anaclastic
bottom be concave at the time of inspiration, it will ||
burst $ and the like will happen if it be convex at the Anacreon,
time of exspiration. 2. A strong breath will have the v ^
same effect even under the contrary circumstances.
ANACLAST1CS, that part of optics which con¬
siders the refraction of light, and is commonly called
Dioptrics. See Dioptrics.
ANACLETERIA, in antiquity, a solemn festival
celebrated by the ancients when their kings or princes
came of age, and assumed the reins of government. It
is so called, because proclamation being made of this
event to the people, they went to salute their prince
during the anacleteria, and to congratulate him upon
his new dignity.
ANACLETICUM, in the ancient art of war, a
particular blast of the trumpet, whereby the fearful
and flying soldiers were rallied, and recalled to com¬
bat.
ANACLINOPALE, in antiquity, a
kind of wrestling, wherein the champions threw them¬
selves voluntarily on the ground, and continued the com¬
bat by pinching, biting, scratching, and other methods
of offence. The Anaclinopale was contradistinguished
from the Orthapule, wherein the champions stood erect.
In the Anaclinopale, the weaker combatants sometimes
gained the victory.
ANACLINTERIA, in antiquity, a kind of pil¬
lows on the dining bed, whereon the guests used to
lean. The ancient tricliniary beds had four pillows,
one at the head, another at the feet, a third at the
hack, and a fourth at the breast. That on which the
head lay, was properly called by the Greeks
or by the Romans sometimes plu-
teus.
ANACOLLEMA, a composition of astringent pow¬
ders, applied by the ancients to the head, to prevent
defluxions on the eyes.
ANACONDO, in Natural History, is a name given
in the isle of Ceylon to a very large and terrible snake,
which often devours the unfortunate traveller alive, and
is itself accounted excellent and delicious fare. It is
probably the Boa Constrictor.
ANACREON, a Greek poet, born at Teos, a city
of Ionia, flourished about 532 years before the Chri¬
stian era. Polycrates, tyrant of Samos, invited him
to his court, and made him share with him in his busi¬
ness and his pleasure. He had a delicate wit, as may
be judged from the inexpressible beauties and graces
that shine in his works: but he was fond of pleasure,
was of an amorous disposition, and addicted to drunk¬
enness : yet, notwithstanding his debaucheries, he lived
to the age of 85 when, we are told, he was choked
by a grapestone which stuck in his throat as he was re¬
galing on some new wine.
There is but a small part of Anacreon’s works that
remain : for, besides his odes and epigrams, he compo¬
sed elegies, hymns, and iambics. His poems which
are extant were rescued from oblivion by Henry Ste¬
phens, and are universally admired. The verses of A-
nacreon are sweeter, says Scaliger, than Indian sugar.
His beauty and chief excellence, says Madame Dacier,
lay in imitating nature, and in following reason *, so
that he presented to the mind no images but what were
noble and natural. The odes of Anacreon, says Ra-
pin,
ANA [ 167 ] ANA
Anacreon pin> are flowers, beauties, and perpetual graces ; it is
|| familiar to him to write what is natural, and to the life,
Inaduo- ],e having an air so delicate, so easy and graceful, that
mene- among all the ancients there is nothing comparable to
~ Y the method he took, nor to that kind of writing he fol¬
lowed. He flows soft and easy, every where diffusing
the joy and indolence of his mind through his verse,
and tuning his harp to the smooth and pleasant temper
of his soul. But none has given a juster character of
his writings than the God ot Love, as taught to speak
by Mr Cowley :
All thy verse is softer far
Than the downy feathers are
Of my wings, or of my arrows,
Of my mother’s doves and sparrows :
Graceful, cleanly, smooth, or round,
All with Venus’ girdle bound.
ANACREONTIC VERSE, in ancient poetry, a kind
of verse, so called from its being much used by the poet
Anacreon. It consists of three feet and a half, usually
spondees and iambuses, and sometimes anapests : Such
is that of Horace,
Lydia, die per omnes.
ANACRISIS, among the ancient Greeks, was used
for a kind of trial or examination, which the archons,
or chief magistrates of Athens, were to undergo before
their admission into that office. The anacrisis stands
distinguished from the docimasia, which was a second
examination in the forum. The anacrisis was per¬
formed in the senate-house. The questions here pro¬
posed to them were concerning their family, kindred,
behaviour, estate, &c. Some will have it that all ma¬
gistrates underwent the anacrisis.
Anacrisis, among civilians, an investigation of truth,
interrogation of witnesses, and inquiry made into any
fact, especially by torture.
ANACROSIS, in antiquity, denotes a part of the
Pythian song, wherein the combat of Apollo and Py¬
thon is described.—The anacrosis was the first part,
and contained the preparation to the fight.
ANACYCLUS. See Botany Index.
ANADAVADiEA, in Ornithology, a barbarous
name of a species of alauda. See AlaudA, Ornitho¬
logy Index.
ANADEMA, among the ancients, denotes an or¬
nament of the head, wherewith victors at the sacred
games had their temples bound.
ANADIPLOSIS, in Rhetoric and Poetry, a repe¬
tition of the last word of a line, or clause of a sentence,
in the beginning of the next : thus,
Pierides, vos hcec facietis maxima Gallo :
Galla, citjas amor, &c. *
Et matutinis accredula vocibus instat,
Vocibus instat, et assiduas jacit ore querelas.
ANADROMUS, among ichthyologists, a name given
to such fishes as go from the sea to the fresh water at
stated seasons, and return back again ; such as the sal¬
mon, &c. See Salmo.
ANADUOMENE Venus, in the Grecian Mytho¬
logy, answered to the Sea Venus in the Roman, and
was the appellation given to one of the chief deities of
the sea. The most celebrated picture in all antiquity
was that of this goddess by Apelles 5 and the famous
Venus of Medicis is a Sea Venus.
ANiEDElA, in antiquity, a denomination given
to a silver stool placed in the Areopagus, on which the
defendant, or person accused, was seated for exami¬
nation. The word is Greek, which imports
imprudence j but according to Junius’s correction, it
should rather be Avxfltx, q. d. innocence. The plaintiff
or accuser was placed on an opposite stool called hybris,
or injury, here he proposed three questions to the party
accused, to which positive answers were to be given.
The first, Are you guilty of this fact? The second, How
did you commit the fact ? The third, Who were your
accomplices ?
ANESTHESIA, signifies a privation of the sen¬
Anaduo-
mene
Anagram.
ses.
ANAGALLIS, Pimpernel. See Botany Index.
ANAGNIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of La-
tium, capital of the Hernici 5 which, after a faint re¬
sistance, submitting to the Romans, was admitted to
the freedom of the city, yet without the right of suf¬
frage, (Livy). It was afterwards a colony of Drusus
Caesar, and walled round, and its territory assigned to
the veterans, (Frontinus). Here Antony married
Cleopatra, and divorced Octavia. Now Anagm, 36
miles to the east of Rome. Long. 13. 45. N. Lat.
42. 48.
ANAGNOSTA, or Anagnostes, in antiquity, a
kind of literary servant, retained in the families ot
persons of distinction, whose chief business was to read
to them during meals, or at any other time when they
were at leisure. Cornelius Nepos relates of Atticus,
that he had always an anagnostes at his meals. He never
supped without reading j so that the minds of his
guests were no less agreeably entertained than their
appetites. The same custom, Eginhard observes, was
kept up by Charlemagne, who at table had the histo¬
ries and acts of ancient kings read to him. This cus¬
tom seems to have been a relick of that of the ancient
Greeks, who had the praises of great men and heroes
sung to them while at table. The ancient monks and
clergy kept up the like usage, as we are informed by
St Augustin.*
ANAGOGICAL, signifies mysterious, transporting;
and is used to express whatever elevates the mind, not
only to the knowledge of divine things, but of divine
things in the next life. This word is seldom used, but
with regard to the different senses of the Scripture. The
anagogical sense is, when the sacred text is explained
with regard to eternal life, the point which Christians
should have in view: for example, the rest of the Sab¬
bath, in the anagogical sense, signifies the repose of
everlasting happiness.
ANAGOGY, or Anagoge, among ecclesiastical
writers, the elevation of the mind to things celestial and
eternal. It is particularly used, where words, in their
natural or primary meanings, denote something sensi¬
ble, but have a further view to something spiritual or
invisible. /
Anagogy, in a more particular sense, denotes tbe
application of the types and allegories of the Old 'I e-
stament to subjects of the New ; thus called, because
the veil being here drawn, what before was hidden is
exposed to open sight.
ANAGRAM (from the Greek ui», backwards, and
VZ*W«>
ANA [ 168 ]„ ANA
Anagram V^f444) letter), in matters of literature, a transposition
H of the letters of some name, whereby a new word is
Analc. formed, either to the advantage or disadvantage ol the
person or thing to which the name belongs. Ihus the
anagram of Galenas in angelus; that ol Logica, cah-
gp ; that of Alstedius, sedulitas; that ol Loraine is
alerion, on which account it was that the family of Lo-
raine took alerions for their armoury.—Calvin, in the
title of his Institutions, printed at Strasburgh in 1539,
calls himself Alcuinus, which is the anagram of Calvi-
nus, and the name of an eminently learned person in
the time of Charlemagne, who contributed greatly to
the restoration of learning in that age.
Those who adhere strictly to the definition of an
anagram, take no other liberty than that of omitting
or retaining the letter H at pleasure ; whereas others
make no scruple to use E for iE, v for W, s for z, and
C for K : and vice versa.
Besides anagrams formed as above, we meet with
another kind in ancient writers, made by dividing a
single word into several; thus, sus tinea mus, are form¬
ed out of the word sustineamus.
Anagrams are sometimes also made out of several
words: such as that on the question put by Pilate to
our Saviour, Quid est veritas? whereof we have this
admirable anagram, viz. Est vir qui adest.
The Cabbalists among the Jews are professed ana-
grammatists j the third part of their art, which they
call themuru, i. e. “ changing,” being nothing but the
art of making anagrams, or finding hidden and my¬
stical meanings in names ; which they do by changing,
transposing, and differently combining the letters of
those names. Thus, of <73 the letters of Noah’s name,
they make ]rt grace ; of it'S'Q t/ie Messiah, they make
-J7Dt7s he shall rejoice.
ANAGRAMMATIST, a maker or composer of
anagrams. Thomas Billon, a Provencal, was a cele¬
brated anagrammatist, and retained by Louis XIII.
with a pension of 1200 iivres, in quality of anagram¬
matist to the king.
ANAGROS, in Commerce, a measure for grain used
in some cities in Spain, particularly at Seville 5 46 ana-
gros make about 10^ quarters of London.
ANAGYRIS, Stinking Bean-trefoil. See Bo¬
tany Index.
Anagyris, or Anagyrus, in Ancient Geography,
the name of a place in Attica, of the tribe Erechtheis,
where a fetid plant, called Anagyris, probably the
same with the foregoing, grew in great plenty, (Dios-
eondes, Pliny, Stephanus) $ and the more it was hand¬
led, the stronger it smelled ; hence commovere anagyrin
or (anagyrum), is to bring a misfortune on one’s self,
(Aristophanes).
ANAK, the father of the Anakims, was the son of
Arba, who gave his name to Kirjath-arba, or Hebron,
(Josh. xiv. 15.). Anak had three sons, Sheshai, Ahi-
man, and Talmai, (chap. xv. 14. and Numb. xiii. 22.),
who, as well as their father, were giants, and who,
with their posterity, all terrible for their fierceness and
■extraordinary stature, were called the Anakims; in
comparison of whom the Hebrews, who were sent to
view the land of Canaan, reported that they were but
as grashoppers. Numb. xiii. ult. Caleb, assisted by
•the tribe of Judah, took Kirjath-arba, and destroyed
the Anakims (Judges i. 20. and Josh. xv. 14.) in the
year of the world 2559.
ANALECTA, or Analectes, in antiquity, a ser¬
vant whose employment it was to gather up the olfals
at tables.
Analecta, Analects, in a literary sense, is used to
denote a collection of small pieces j as, essays, re¬
marks, &e.
ANALEMMA, in Geometry, a projection of the
sphere, on the plane of the meridian, orthographically
made by a straight line and ellipses, the eye being sup¬
posed at an infinite distance, and in the east or west
point of the horizon.
Analemma, denotes likewise an instrument of brass
or wood, upon which this kind of projection is drawn,
with a horizon or cursor fitted to it, wherein the
solstitial colure, and all circles parallel to it, will be
concentric circles j all circles oblique to the eye will
be ellipses ; and all circles whose planes pass through
the eye, will be right lines. The use of this instru¬
ment is to show the common astronomical problems :
which it will do, though not very exactly, unless it be
very large.
ANALEPSIS, the augmentation or nutrition of an
emaciated body.
ANALEPTICS, restorative or nourishing medi¬
cines.
ANALOGY, in Philosophy, a certain relation and
agreement between two or more things, which in other
respects are entirely different.
There is likewise an analogy between things that
have some conformity or resemblance to one another j
for example, between animals and plants $ but the ana¬
logy is still stronger between two different species of
certain animals.
Analogy enters much into all our reasoning, and
serves to explain and illustrate. A great part of our
philosophy, indeed, has no other foundation than ana-
logy.
it is natural to mankind to judge of things less
known, by some similitude, real or imaginary, between
them and things more familiar or better known. And
where the things compared have really a great simili¬
tude in their nature, when there is reason to think that
they are subject to the same laws, there may be a con¬
siderable degree of probability in conclusions drawn
from analog). Thus we may observe a very great
similitude between this earth which we inhabit, and the
other planets, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mer¬
cury. They all revolve round the sun, as the earth
does, although at different distances, and in different
periods. They borrow all their light from the sun, as
the earth does. Several of them are known to revolve
round their axis like the earth, and, by that means,
must have a like succession of day and night. Some of
them have moons, that serve to give them light in the
absence of the sun, as our moon does to us. They are
all, in their motions, subject to the same law of gravi¬
tation as the earth is. From all this similitude, it is
not unreasonable to think, that those planets may, like
our earth, be the habitation of various orders of living
creatures. There is some probability in this conclusion
from analogy.
But it ought to be observed, that, as this kind of
reasoning'
ANA [ 169 ] ANA
A.nalo'vy. reasoning can afford only probable evidence at best; so,
—unless great caution be used, we are apt to be led into
error by it. To give an instance of this : Anatomists,
in ancient ages, seldom dissected human bodies j but
very often the bodies of those quadrupeds whose inter-
leid on nal structure was thought to approach nearest to that
%e Intel- tj)e ]iuman body. Modern anatomists'have discover-
'mm e(l many mistakes the ancients were led into, by their
Issay L conceiving a greater similitude between the structure
ii. ir. p. 5*. of men and of some beasts than there is in reality.
Perhaps no author has made a more just and a more
happy use of this mode of reasoning, than Bishop But¬
ler in his Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed,
to the Constitution and Course of Nature. In that ex¬
cellent work, the author does not ground any of the
truths of religion upon analogy, as their proper evidence..
He only makes use of analogy to answer objections'
against them. When objections are made against the
truths of religion, which may be made with equal
strength against what we know to be true in the course
of nature, such objections can have no weight.
Analogical reasoning, therefore, may be of excellent
use in answering objections against truths which have
other evidence. It may likewise give a greater or a
less degree of probability in cases where we can find no
other evidence. But all arguments drawn from ana¬
logy are still the weaker, the greater disparity there is
between the things compared 5 and therefore must be
weakest of all when we compare body with mind, be¬
cause there are no two things in nature more unlike.
There is no subject in which men have always been
so prone to form their notions by analogies of this kind,
as in what relates to the mind. We form an early ac¬
quaintance with material things by means of our senses,
and are bred up in a constant familiarity with them.
Hence we are apt to measure all things by them; and
to ascribe to things most remote from matter the qua¬
lities that belong to material things. It is for this rea¬
son that mankind have, in all ages, been so prone to
conceive the mind itself to be some subtle kind of mat¬
ter j that they have been disposed to ascribe human
figure and human organs not only to angels, but even
to the Deity.
To illustrate more fully that analogical reasoning
from a supposed similitude of mind to body, which ap¬
pears to be the most fruitful source of error with regard
to^the operations of our minds, the following instance
may be given. When a man is urged by contrary mo¬
tives, those on one hand inciting him to do some action,
those on the ether to forbear it j he deliberates about
it, and at last resolves to do it, or not to do it. The
contrary motives are here compared to the weights in
the opposite scales of a balance 5 and there is not pei’-
haps any instance that can be named of a more striking
analogy between body and mind. Hence the phrases
of weighing motives, of deliberating upon actions, are
common to all languages.
From this analogy, some philosophers draw very im¬
portant conclusions. They say, that as the balance
cannot incline to one side more than the other when
the opposite weights are equal, so a man cannot pos¬
sibly determine himself if the motives on both hands
are equal j and as the balance must necessarily turn to
that side which has most weight, so the man must ne-
cessarily be determined to that hand where the motive
Vol. II. Part I. t
is strongest. And on this foundation some of the school- Analogy,
men maintained, that if a hungry ass were placed be-
tween two bundles of hay equally inviting, the beast
must stand still and starve to death, being unable to turn
to either, because there are equal motives to both. This
is an instance of that analogical reasoning, which, it is
conceived, ought never to be trusted j for the analogy
between a balance and a man deliberating, though one
of the strongest that can he found between matter and
mind, is too weak to support any argument. A piece
of dead inactive matter, and an active intelligent being,
are things very unlike ; and because the one would re¬
main at rest in a certain case, it does not follow that the
other would be inactive in a case somewhat similar. The
argument is no better than this, that because a dead
animal moves only as it is pushed, and if pushed with
equal force in contrary directions, must remain at rest;
therefore the same thing must happen to a living ani¬
mal : for surely the similitude between a dead animal and
a living is as great as that between a balance and a man.
The derivation of the word Analogy indicates, as
Professor Castillon of Berlin * observes, a resemblance * Haetlem
discernible by reason. This is confirmed by the sense
in which the term is used in geometry, where it sign!- ^ 01
fies an equality of ratios. In explaining this subject,
it is observed, there may be a resemblance betw een sen¬
sations and a resemblance between pei'ceptions : the for¬
mer is called 'physical resemblance^ because it acts upon
the physical or sensitive faculty ; the latter moral re¬
semblance, because it affects the moral or rational fa¬
culty of man.
Every resemblance may be reduced to an equality in
sensations or perceptions 5 but this supposes some equa¬
lity in their causes : we say some equality., because the
disposition of the organs, or of the soul, must necessa¬
rily affect the sensations or perceptions j but this can
influence only their degree, and not their nature.
The character of one person resembles that of ano¬
ther only when they both speak and act so as to excite
equal perceptions, or, to speak more strictly, the same
perception 5 when they both display vivacity or indif¬
ference, anger or meekness, on the same occasions, and
both excite in the soul of the observer identical percep¬
tions, or rather the same perception of vivacity or in¬
difference, of anger or meekness. These identical per¬
ceptions, the degree of which will depend much on the
disposition of the observer’s mind, must have identical
causes, or, in other words, the same cause 5 which is
the vivacity or indifference, the anger or meekness, dis¬
played by each of these characters.
Every physical resemblance may therefore be reduced
to one or more equalities, and every moral resemblance
to one or more identities. Wherever there is moral re¬
semblance there is analogy. Analogy may therefore be
reduced to identity, and always supposes comparison.
Two objects are said to have an analogy to each
other, or are called analogous, when some identity is
discovered upon comparing them. An analogical con¬
clusion is a conclusion deduced from some identity.
The principles of analogy are a comparison of two
objects j and one or more identities resulting from their
being thus compared. The characters of analogy ai’e
—that two objects be compared—that there be one or
more identities between these objects——and that this is
discernible only by reason or intellect.
y Physical
ANA
[ i7° 1
ANA
Analogy, Physical resemblance is to the senses what analogy
Analysis, is to the understanding. The former, when perfect, be-
comes equality 5 the latter, identity.
Resemblance and analogy are the foundations both
of probability and of certainty. When we are not sa¬
tisfied that the resemblance or the analogy is complete,
we stop at probability j which becomes certainty when
we are, or think we are, assured that the resemblance
or the analogy is perfect.
In reasoning by analogy, we should be careful not to
confound it with resemblance j and also not to deduce
from the identity or identities, on which the analogy is
founded, a conclusion which has either no relation, or
only a partial relation, to these identities.
The principal uses of analogy in the investigation of
physical and moral truth, according to our author,
may be reduced to the four following: 1. By means
of our senses to improve, first our own judgment, and
afterwards that of others, with respect to intellectual
subjects. 2. To deduce a general from a particular
truth. Having discovered and proved the truth of a
proposition with respect to any particular object, exa¬
mine whether this truth flows from a quality peculiar
to this single object, or common to several objects.
In the latter case all these objects may be compre¬
hended under one general idea, founded on their com¬
mon quality. Substitute this general idea instead of
the particular object, and the proposition will become
general, without ceasing to be true j because whatever
evidently and solely results from the identity on which
an analogy is founded, must necessarily be true with
respect to all those objects in which the analogy is the
same. 3. To prove the truth or falsehood of proposi¬
tions which cannot be otherwise demonstrated. 4. To
discover new truths in both natural and moral philo¬
sophy.
Analogy, among grammarians, is the correspond¬
ence which a word or phrase bears to the genius and
received forms of any language.
ANALYSIS, in a general sense, implies the reso¬
lution of something compounded into its original and
constituent parts. The word is Greek, and derived
from ctvxXvu, “ to resolve.”
Analysis, in Mathematics, is properly the method
of resolving problems by means of algebraical equa¬
tions ; whence we often find that these two words, ana¬
lysis and algebra, are used as synonymous.
Analysis, under its present improvements, must be
allowed the apex or height of all human learning: it is
this method which furnishes us with the most perfect
examples of the art of reasoning ; gives the mind an
uncommon readiness at deducing and discovering, from
a few data, things unknown *, and, by using signs for
ideas, present things to the imagination, which other¬
wise seemed out of its sphere: by this, geometrical
demonstrations may be greatly abridged, and a long
series of argumentations, wherein the mind cannot with¬
out the utmost effort and attention discover the connec¬
tion of ideas, are hereby converted into sensible signs,
and the several operations required therein effected by
the combination of these signs. But, what is more
extraordinary, by means of this art, a number of truths
are frequently expressed by a single line, which in the
common way of explaining and demonstrating things
•would fill whole volumes. Thus, by mere eontempla-
3.
tion of one single line, whole sciences may be sometimes Ansljkn,
learned in a few minutes time, which otherwise couhl '1 ■1 y —
scarcely be attained in many years.
Analysis is divided, with regard to its object, into
that offinites and infinites.
Analysis of Finite Quantities, is what we otherwise
call specious arithmetic or algebra. See Algebra.
Analysis of Infinites, called also the Flew Analysis,
is particularly used for the method of fluxions, or the
differential calculus. See Fluxions.
Analysis, in Logic, signifies the method of tracing
things backward to their source, and of resolving know¬
ledge into its original principles. This is also called
the method of resolution ; and stands opposed to the
synthetic method, or that of composition. The art of
logical analysis consists principally in combining odr
perceptions, classing them together with address, and
contriving proper expressions for conveying our
thoughts, and representing their several divisions,
classes, and relations.
Analysis, in Rhetoric, is that which examines the
connexions, tropes, figures, and the like, inquiring into
the proposition, division, passions, arguments, and other
apparatus of rhetoric.
Several authors, as Freigius and others, have given
analyses of Cicero’s Orations, wherein they reduce
them to their grammatical and logical principles; strip
them of all the ornaments and additions of rhetoric
which otherwise disguise their true form, and conceal
the connexion between one part and another. The
design of these authors is to have those admired ha¬
rangues just such as the judgment disposed them, with¬
out the help of imagination : so that here we may cool¬
ly view the force of each proof, and admire the use Ci¬
cero made of rhetorical figures to conceal the weak part
of a cause.
A collection has been made of the analyses formed
by the most celebrated authors of the 16th century, in
3 vols. folio.
Analysis is also used, in Chemistry, for the decom¬
position of a mixed body, or the separation of the
principles and constituent parts of a compounded sub¬
stance.
To analyze bodies, or resolve them into their com¬
ponent parts, is indeed the chief object of the art of
chemistry. Chemistry furnishes several means for the
decomposition of bodies, which are founded on the dif¬
ference of the properties belonging to the different prin¬
ciples of which the body to be analyzed is composed.
If, for example, a body be composed of several prin¬
ciples, some of which have a great and others a mode¬
rate degree of volatility, and, lastly, others are fixed,
its most volatile parts may be first separated by a gra¬
dual heat in distilling vessels ; and then the parts which
are next in volatility will pass over in distillation ; and,
lastly, those parts which are fixed, and capable of re¬
sisting the action of fire, will remain at the bottom of
the vessel.
Analysis is also used for a kind of syllabus, or table
of the principal heads or articles of a continued dis¬
course, disposed in their natural order and dependency.
Analyses are more scientifical than alphabetical index¬
es ; but they are less used, as being more intricate.
Analysis is likewise used for a brief, but methodi¬
cal, illustration of the principles of a science ; in which
sense
ANA [ 171 ] ANA
sense it is nearly synonymous with what we otherwise
call a synopsis.
ANALYTIC, or Analytical, something that
belongs to, or partakes of, the nature of analysis.—
Thus we say, an analytical demonstration, analytical
process, analytical table or scheme, analytical method
of investigation, &c.
The analytic method stands opposed to the synthe¬
tic. In natural philosophy, as in mathematics, the in¬
vestigation of difficult things by the analytic method
ought to precede the method of composition. This
analysis consists in making experiments and observa¬
tions, and in drawing general conclusions therefrom by
induction j and admitting of no objections against the
conclusions, but such as are drawn from experiments,
and other certain truths: and though the reasoning
from experiments and observations by induction be no
demonstration of general conclusions, yet it is the best
method of reasoning which the nature of things admits
of; and may be esteemed so much the stronger, as the
induction is more general ; and, if no exception occur
from phenomena, the conclusion may be pronounced
general. By this way of analysis, we may proceed
from compounds to their ingredients ; from motions to
the forces producing them ; and in general from effects
to their causes, and from particular causes to more ge¬
neral ones, until we arrive at those which are the most
general. This is the analytic method, according to
the illustrious Newton.
The synthetic method consists in assuming the causes
discovered and received as principles: and by them ex¬
plaining the phenomena proceeding from them, and
proving the explanation. See Synthesis.
ANALYTICS, (Analytica), the science and use of
analysis. The great advantage of the modern mathe¬
matics above the ancient is in point of analytics.
Pappus, in the preface to his seventh book of Mathe¬
matical Collections, enumerates the authors on the an¬
cient analytics ; being Euclid, in his Data and Poris-
mata ; Apollonius, de Sections Rationis, and in his Cb-
nics ; Aristseus, de Locis Solidis; and Eratosthenes, de
Mediis Proportionalibus. But the ancient analytics
were very different from the modern.
To the modern analytics principally belongs algebra ;
an historical account of which, with the several authors
thereon, see under the article Algebra.
ANAMABOA, a populous town in the kingdom
of Fantin, in Guinea. The natives are generally great
cheats, and must be carefully looked alter in dealing
with them, and their gold well examined, for it is
commonly adulterated. It lies under the cannon ot
the English castle. The landing is pretty difficult on
account of the rocks: and therefore those that come
here to trade are forced to go ashore in canoes. The
earth here is very proper to make bricks : the oysters,
when burnt, afford good lime ; and there is timber in
great abundance; so that here are all the materials for
building. The country at Anamaboa is full of hills,
beginning at a good distance from the town, and af¬
fording a very pleasant prospect. Indian corn and
palm-wine are in great plenty. They have a green
fruit called papas, as big as a small melon, and which
has a taste like cauliflower. Anamaboa is much fre¬
quented by the English ships and others for corn and
slaves, which last are sometimes to be had in great
numbers. The English fort is built on the foundation A.na;oabe>*
of a large old house, which subsisted entire in 1679. II
It is a large edifice, flanked by two towers, and forti- Anapaestic,
fied towards the sea with two bastions: the whole of
brick and stone cemented with lime. It stands upon a
rock at the distance of 30 paces from the sea. It is
mounted with 12 pieces of cannon and 12 patereroes;
and defended by a garrison of 12 whites and 18 blacks,
under the command of the chief factor.
The natives treat the garrison of this fort with great
insolence, insomuch as often to block them up, and fre¬
quently, if they dislike the governor, send him ofi in
a canoe to Cape Coast with marks of the utmost con¬
tempt. Ear from being able to oppose them, the Eng¬
lish are glad to obtain their favour with presents. In
1701, they declared war against the English; and ha¬
ving assembled in a tumultuous manner before the fort,
they set fire to the exterior buildings, and went on
with their outrages, till they were dispersed by a dis¬
charge of the cannon from the batteries. The night
following the English took their revenge, by setting
fire to the town of Anamaboa: and thus hostilities
continued for 20 days, till at last the natives were ob¬
liged to sue for peace. This fort was abandoned in
1733 ; but has been resumed by the English, who have
continued in it ever since.
ANAMELECH, an idol of the Sepharvaites, who
are said in Scripture to have burned their children in
honour of Adrammelech and Anamelech.—These idols
probably signified the sun and moon. Some of the
rabbins represent Anamelech under the figure ot a
mule, others under that of a quail or pheasant.
ANAMIM, the second son of Mizraim (Gen. x.
14.) Anamim, if we may credit the paraphrast Jona¬
than the son of Uzziel, peopled the Mareotis; or the
Pentapolis of Cyrene, according to the paraphrast of
Jerusalem. Bocchart is of opinion, that these Ana-
mims w'ere the people that dwelt in the parts adjacent
to the temple of Jupiter Ammon, and in the Nasamo-
nitis. Calmet thinks the Amanians and Garamantes
to be descended from Anamim.
ANAMORPHOSIS, in perspective drawings, is
a deformed or distorted portrait or figure, generally
confused and unintelligible to the common unassisted
view ; but when seen at a certain distance and height,
or as reflected from a plain or curved mirror, will ap¬
pear regular and in right proportion. See Optics
(the Index), and PERSPECTIVE.
ANANAS, in Botany, the trivial name of a species
of bromelia. See Bromelia, Botany Index.
ANANCITIS, in antiquity, a kind of figured stone,
otherwise called synochitis, celebrated for its magical
virtue of raising the shadow's of the infernal gods.
ANANIAS, a Saducee, high-priest of the Jews,
who put to death St James the brother of our Lord,
and was deposed by Agrippa.
ANANISABTA, or Ananisapta, a magical word
frequently found inscribed on coins and other amulets,
supposed to have a virtue of preserving the wearer
from the plague. <
ANAPAEST, in ancient poetry, a foot consisting of
two short syllables and one long: Such is the word
scbpulos. It is just the reverse of the dactyl.
ANAPAESTIC verses, those consisting wholly or
chiefly of anapaests.
ANAPHE,
ANA [172] ANA
ANAPHE, in Ancient Geography, an island spon¬
taneously emerging out of the Cretan sea, near Thera
(Pliny, Straho) 5 now called Nansio. Its name is from
the sudden appearance of the new moon to the Argo¬
nauts in a storm (Apollonius). Anaplueus, an epithet
of Apollo, who was worshipped there. Anaphcei, the
people.
ANAPHORA, in Rhetoric, the repetition of the
same word or words in the beginning of a sentence or
verse : Thus Virgil,
Pan etiam Arcadia meciim se judice certet,
Pan etiam Arcadia dicat se judice victum.
Anaphora, among physicians, the throwing off pu¬
rulent matter by the mouth.
ANAPHRODISIA, signifies impotence, or want
of power to procreate. See Impotence.
ANAPLASIS, signifies the replacing or setting a
fractured bone.
ANAPLORETICS, 'medicines that promote the
growth or granulation of the flesh in wounds, ulcers,
&c.
ANARCHI, (Ar«^«<), in antiquity, a name given
by the Athenians to four supernumerary days in their
year, during which they had no magistrates. The At¬
tic year was divided into 10 parts, according to the
number of tribes, to whom the presidency of the se¬
nate fell by turns. Each division consisted of 35 days ;
what remained after the expix’ation of these, to make
the lunar year complete, which according to their com¬
putation consisted of 354 days, were employed in the
creation of magistrates, and called and
ANARCHY, the want of government in a nation,
where no supreme authority is lodged either in the
prince or other rulers 5 but the people live at large,
and all things are in confusion. The word is derived
from the Greek privative <* and command, prin¬
cipality. Anarchy is supposed to have reigned after the
deluge, before the foundation of monarchies. We still
find it to obtain in several parts, particularly of Africa
and America.
Anarchy is also applied to certain troublesome and
disorderly periods, even in governments otherwise re¬
gular. In England, the period between the death of
Cromwell and King Charles’s restoration is commonly
represented as an anarchy. Every month produced a
new scheme or form of government. Enthusiasts talk¬
ed of nothing but annulling all the laws, abolishing all
writings, records, and registers, and bringing all men
to the primitive level. No modern nation w'as more
subject to anarchies than Poland; where every interval
between the death of one king and the election of ano¬
ther was a scene of great disorder, so that it was a
proverb among that people, Poland is governed by con¬
fusion. The Jewish history presents numerous instances
of anarchies in that state, usually denoted by this phrase,
that in those days there was no king in Ist'ael, but every
man did that which ivas right in his own eyes ; which
is a just picture of an anarchy.
ANARRHICAS. See Ichthyology Index.
ANARROPIA, among physicians, a tendency of
the humours to the head or superior parts.
ANAS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Spain
rising in the territory of Laminium in the Hither
2
Spain, and now spreading into lakes, again restraining Ahsj
its waters, or, burrowing itself entirely in the earth, is fy
pleased often to reappear. It pours into the Atlantic Atmtashj
(Pliny). Now Guadiana, rising in the south-east of
New Castile, in a district commonly called Campo de
Montiel, not far from the mountain Consuegra, from
the lakes called las Lagunas de Guadiana, and then it
is called Rio Roydera ; and, after a course of six leagues,
burying itself in the earth for a league, it then rises
up again from three lakes, called/os Ojos de Guadiana,
near the village Villa Harta, five leagues to the north
of Calatrava, and directs its course westward through
New Castile, by Medelin, Merida, and Badajoz, where
it begins to bend its course southwards, between Por¬
tugal and Andalusia, falling into the bay of Cadiz near
Ayamonte.
Anas. See Ornithology Index.
ANASARCA, a species of dropsy. See Medicine
Index.
ANASSER. See Botany Index.
ANASSUS, or Anaxus, in Ancient Geography, a
river in the territory of Venice, (Pliny) ; now the
Piave, which rising from the mountains ot Tyrol, not
far from the borders of Carinthia, runs from north to
south, through the territories of Cadorina, Belluno,
Feltre, and, after running from west to east, through
Trevigi, falls into the Adriatic, 13 miles to the south-
nt Vpnipp
AN ASTATIC A. See Botany Index.
ANASTASIS, a term among ancient physicians,
for a rising up to go to stool. It also signifies the pas¬
sage of any humour, when expelled from one part, and
obliged to remove to another.
ANASTASIUS I. emperor of the east, succeed¬
ed Zeno in the year 491, and was inaugurated that
same year on April the nth. The Manicheans and
Ariaos were greatly in hopes of being supported by
the new emperor ; the former because his mother was
their friend, and favoured their sect; the latter because
the emperor’s uncle was of their opinion : but if Ana¬
stasias did not persecute them (as we do not find he
ever did), yet it does not appear that he supported ei¬
ther of these sects. But in order to maintain the peace
of the church, upon which the tranquillity of the state
very much depends, he declared, that such bishops or
other clergymen who should disturb the public tran¬
quillity, by maintaining with too much heat either side
of the question for or against the council of Chalcedon,
should be deprived of their benefices. Accordingly
the disputes concerning Eutychianism running to a
very great height, and Euphemius being deeply con¬
cerned in them, the emperor expelled him from his see,
and chose Macedonius in his stead. The hatred which
the different parties entertained against one another oc¬
casioned often such tumults and seditions at Constanti¬
nople as threatened the life of the emperor himself;
who, to keep the people in awe, ordered that the go¬
vernor of the city should be present at all church as¬
semblies and public processions. This was so much the
more necessary, because these tumults were chiefly oc¬
casioned by a kind of doxology or short hymn which
used to be sung at divine service. This doxology con¬
sisted only of the following words, d 0s®?,
«y<«5 ctdxwvci, that is, “ Holy God, holy the
powerful, holy the immortalfor which reason it was
called
ANA
called Tf‘r*Y«<, Trisdgius, “ three times holy he-
 i calise the word holy was therein three times repeated.
The orthodox used to sing that hymn without any ad¬
dition, or by adding only to it, rg(«s, sAsjjtrsv
i. e. “ Holy Trinity, have mercy upon us:” But Pe¬
ter the Fuller, bishop of Antioch, pretended to add
these words to it, viz. b cravguS-it; y/axs, i. e. “ who
hast been crucified for usand as it was supposed
that the first holy related to the Father, the second to
the Son, the third to the Holy Ghost, the adding
these words, who hast been crucified for us, seemed to
insinuate that the whole consubstantial Trinity had suf¬
fered $ for which reason the orthodox were resolved
not to admit this addition. Anastasius desiring to
have these fatal words added to that hymn whenever it
should be sung at Constantinople, this occasioned a
terrible sedition in the city, as though the very funda¬
mentals of Christianity had been overthrown. Mace-
donius and his clergy are said to have raised that sedi¬
tion, which came to such a height, that the emperor
himself was obliged to come, without his crown on his
head, and in a very humble manner, to the circus,
where he declared to the people that he was very will¬
ing to quit the imperial throne ; but he told them at
the same time, that they could not all enjoy the so¬
vereign power, which does not admit of a partnership :
and that one person still must govern them if he re¬
signed the crown. This discourse had such a power
over the raging multitude, that, as if they had been
divinely inspired, they immediately i-equested the em¬
peror to take up his crown, promising that they would
he quiet and obedient for the future. Anastasius is by
the Popish writers represented as a great persecutor of
the orthodox, because he banished and deprived Euphe-
mius and Macedonius *, but they should prove that these
two prelates had been unjustly banished, which is a
very hard task. As to his civil government, it is con¬
fessed that at the beginning of his reign he showed him¬
self a very good prince : he eased the people of a very
heavy tax called Chrysargyrum, under which they had
groaned for a long time ; he prohibited the fighting
. with wild beasts 5 he raised several buildings 5 and
avoided being involved in dangerous wars as much as
lay in his power. Anastasius reigned 27 years three
months and three days, or, according to F.Pagi, want¬
ing three days 5 and died July the 10th, A. C. 51^, in
the 88th year of his age.
Anastasius II. whose proper name was Artemius,
was in the year 713 elevated to the throne of Constan¬
tinople, from the low station of a secretary, by the free
voice of the senate and Roman people. His natural
talents, improved by education and daily exertion, ena¬
bled him to manage with great prudence the affairs of the
empire dui'ing the time that he was secretary to his pre¬
decessor Philippicus. The Saracens bad made inroads
upon Asia Minor, in the beginning of his reign; but
he sent a strong army to the frontiers of Syria for its
protection, under the command of Leo the Isaurian, a
man of great military experience. These enemies of
the empire also meditated the design of taking Constan¬
tinople 5 hut the vigilance of Anastasius defeated their
purpose, by providing a formidable naval force, repair¬
ing and strengthening the Avails of the city, and by
forcing all the inhabitants either to provide themselves
with provisions for three years, or instantly to depart
[ 173 ] ANA
from the city. Disappointed in their, design, the Anastasia
enemy’s fleet sailed to Phoenicia, and the imperial fleet . ?) ( i
assembled at Rhodes to watch the motions of the ene- . .
But the measures of the emperor received a se-
my-   .
vere check from the conduct of the sailors, Avho raised
a mutiny, and slew their admiral for no other cause but
his honourable endeavours to maintain proper discipline*
in the fleet. Justly dreading severe punishment, the
seamen raised the standard of rebellion, declared Anas¬
tasius unworthy to reign, and conferred the purple up¬
on one Theodosius, a person of mean birth.
Informed of this sedition, Anastasius fled rrom liis
tottering throne to Nice. The ucav emperor hastened
to besiege Constantinople, which, after a leeble defence
of six months, he reduced to his subjection. The late
emperor being assured of his life, abandoned his claim
to the croAvn, assumed the character of a monk, and
was banished to Thessalonica, having worn the purple
only during the space of two years. Having, however,
prevailed upon the Bulgarians to espouse his cause, he
laid aside the habit of the monk for that of the warrior,
and, in the year 719, in the time of the emperor Lea,
he resumed his claim to the throne. A numerous
army of these barbarians hastened to the capital ; but,
being unable to reduce it, they delivered up the un¬
happy Anastasius to the emperor, who put him to death
along with his principal associates. (Anc. Un. Hist.).
Anastasius,. surnamed Bibliothecanus, a Roman
abbot, library-keeper of the Vatican, and one of
the most learned men of the ninth century, assisted
in 869 at the fourth general council, the acts and
canons of which he translated from the Greek into
Latin. He also composed the lives of several popes,
and other \vorks j the best edition of which is that of
the Vatican.
ANASTATICA, the rose of Jericho. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ANASTOMOSIS, in Anatomy, the opening of the
mouths of vessels, in order to discharge their contained
fluids. It is likewise used for the communication of
two vessels at their extremities j as the inosculation of
a vein ivith a vein, of an artery Avith an artery, or of an
artery with a vein.
ANASTOMATICS, medicines supposed to have
the power of opening the mouths of the vessels, and
promoting the circulation j such as deobstruent, ca¬
thartic, and sudorific medicines,
ANASTROPHE, in Rhetoric and Grammar, de¬
note the inversion of the natural order of the words:
such is, sa.va per et scopulos, for per saxa et scopulos.
ANASUS, or Anisus, in Ancient Geography, now
the Ens, a river of Germany, which rises on the bor¬
ders of the territory of Saltzburg ; then separating
Upper Stiria from Upper Austria, and washing the
toAvn of Ens, falls, at the distance of a mile below
it, into the Danube, in a course from south to north.
ANATHEMA, among ecclesiastical Avriters, im¬
ports whatever is set apart, separated, or divided; but
is most usually meant to express the cutting off a person
from the privileges of society and communion with the
faithful.
The anathema differs from excommunication in the
circumstances of being attended writh curses and exe¬
crations. It was practised in the primitive church
against notorious offenders; and the form of that pro?
nounced
ANA [i
Anathema, nounced by Synecius against one Andronicus is as
follows: “ Let no church of God be open to Andro¬
nicus, but let every sanctuary be shut against him. I
admonish both private men and magistrates to receive
him neither under their roof nor to their table; and
priests more especially, that they neither converse with
him living, nor attend his funeral when dead.”
Several councils also have pronounced anathemas
against such as they thought corrupted the purity of the
faith $ and their decisions have been conceived in the
following form : St quis dixerit, Sfc. anathema sit.
There are two kinds of anathemas, the one judici¬
ary and the other abjuratory. The former can only be
denounced by a council, a pope, or a bishop ; the latter
makes a part of the ceremony of abjuration, the convert
being obliged to anathematize the heresy he abjures.
Anathema, in heathen antiquity, was an offering
or present made to some deity, and hung up in the
temple. Whenever a person left off his employment,
it was usual to dedicate the tools to the patron deity of
the trade. Persons too who had escaped from immi¬
nent danger, as shipwreck and the like, or had met
with any other remarkable instance of good fortune,
74 ] ANA
seldom failed to testify their gratitude by some present Anatfxa
of this kind. a
ANATHOTH, a hamlet of Palestine, very near Anatolii
Jerusalem (Josephus), about three miles and a half toV~nr,“
the north j the ruins of which are still to be seen. It
was the birthplace of the prophet Jeremiah, and one ot
the Levitical towns in the tribe of Benjamin.
ANATIFERA concha, the trivial name of a spe¬
cies of lepas. See Lepas, Conchology Index.
ANATOCISM, Anatocismus, an usurious con¬
tract, wherein the interests arising from the principal
sum are added to the principal itself, and interest ex¬
acted upon the whole. The word is originally Greek,
but used by Cicero in Latin j whence it has descended
into most other languages. It comes from the pre¬
position which in composition signifies repetition
or duplication, and roues, usury. Anatocism is what
we properly call interest upon interest, or compound
interest. This is the worst kind of usury, and has
been severely condemned by the Roman law, as well
as by the common laws of most other countries. Se«
T MT* F* R TT QTT
ANATOLIA. See Natolia. •
ANATOMY,
Hiitory. TN its most general sense, is the art of dissecting, or
■—“Y--—' A artificially separating and taking to pieces the dif¬
ferent parts of organized bodies, in order to an exact
discovery of their situation, structure, and economy j but
here we limit its signification to animal bodies. The
word is Greek, xrctropn $ derived from ettxrtfettt, to dis¬
sect, or separate by cutting.
INTRODUCTION.
§ i. History of Anatomy.
This art seems to have been very ancient} though,
for a long time, known only in an imperfect manner.
——The first men who lived must have soon acquired
some notion of the structure of their own bodies, parti¬
cularly of the external parts, and of some even of the in¬
ternal, such as bones, joints, and sinews, which are ex¬
posed to the examination of the senses in living bodies.
This rude knowledge must have been gradually im¬
proved, by the accidents to which the body is exposed,
by the necessities of life, and by the various customs,
ceremonies, and superstitions, of different nations. Thus,
the observance of bodies killed by violence, attention
to wounded men, and to many diseases, the various
ways of putting criminals to death, the funeral cere¬
monies, and a variety of such things, must have shown
men every day more and more of themselves ; especial¬
ly as curiosity and self-love would here urge them
powerfully to observation and reflection.
The brute creation having such an affinity to man
in outward form, motion, senses, and ways of life •
the generation of the species, and the effect of death
upon the body, being observed to be so nearly the
same in both ; the conclusion was not only obvious, but Histw
unavoidable, that their bodies were formed nearly upon v—
the same model. And the opportunities of examining
the bodies of brutes were so easily procured, indeed so
necessarily occurred in the common business of life, that
the huntsman in making use of his prey, the priest in
sacrificing, the augur infdivination, and above all, the
butcher, or those who might out of curiosity attend up¬
on his operations, must have been daily adding to the
little stock of anatomical knowledge. Accordingly we
find, in fact, that the South sea islanders, who have.
been left to their own observation and reasoning, with¬
out the assistance of letters, have yet a considerable
share of rude or wild anatomical and physiological
knowledge. Dr Hunter informs us, that when Omai
was in his museum with Mr Banks, though he could
not explain himself intelligibly, they plainly saw that
he knew the principal parts of the body, and some¬
thing likewise of their uses j and manifested a great
curiosity or desire of having the functions of the in¬
ternal parts of the body explained to him } particular¬
ly the relative functions of the two sexes, which with
him seemed to be the most interesting object of the hu¬
man mind.
We may further imagine, that the philosophers of
the most early ages, that is, the men of curiosity, ob¬
servation, experience, and reflection, could not over¬
look an instance of natural organization, which was so
interesting, and at the same time so wonderful, more
especially such of them as applied to the study and cure
of diseases. We know that physic was a branch of
philosophy fill the age of Hippocrates.
Thus the art ^must have been circumstanced in its
beginning. We shall next see from the testimony of
historians
] trod. ANATOMY. 175
irtory. historians and other writers, how it actually appeared as
1 -y——> an art, from the time that writing was introduced among
men ; how it was improved, and conveyed down to us
through a long series of ages.
Civilization, and improvements of every kind, would
naturally begin in fertile countries and healthful cli¬
mates, where there would be leisure for reflection, and
an appetite for amusement. Accordingly, writing, and
many other useful and ornamental inventions and arts,
appear to have been cultivated in the eastern parts of
Asia long before the earliest times that are treated
of by the Greek or other European writers ; and that
the arts and learning of those eastern people were in
subsequent times gradually communicated to adjacent
countries, especially by the medium of traffic. The
customs, superstitions, and climate of eastern countries,
however, appear to have been as unfavourable to prac¬
tical anatomy as they were inviting to the study of
astronomy, geometry, poetry, and all the softer arts of
peace.
Animal bodies there run so quickly into nauseous
putrefaction, that the earliest inhabitants must have
avoided such offensive employments as anatomical in¬
quiries, like their posterity at this day. And in fact
it does not appear, by the writings of the Grecians,
or Jews, or Phoenicians, or of other eastern countries,
that anatomy was prrticularly cultivated by any of
those eastern nations. In tracing it backwards to its
infancy, we cannot go farther into antiquity than the
times of the Grecian philosophers. As an art in the
state of some cultivation, it may be said to have been
brought forth and bred up among them as a branch of
natural knowledge.
The era of philosophy, as it was called, began with
Thales the Milesian being declared, by a very general
consent of the people, the most wise of all the Gre¬
cians, 480 years before Christ. The philosophers of
his school, which was called the Ionian, cultivated
principally natural knowledge. Socrates, the seventh
in succession of their great teachers, introduced the
study of morals, and was thence said to bring down
philosophy from heaven, to make men truly wise and
happy.
In the writings of his scholar and successor Plato, we
see that the philosophers had carefully considered the
human body, both in its organization and functions •,
and though they had not arrived at the knowledge of
the more minute and intricate parts, which required the
successive labour and attention of many ages, they had
made up very noble and comprehensive ideas of the
subject in general. The anatomical descriptions of Xe¬
nophon and Plato have had the honour of being quoted
by Longinus xxxii.) as specimens of sublime wri¬
ting ; and the extract from Plato is still more remark¬
able for its containing the rudiments of the circulation
of the blood. “ The heart (says Plato) is the centre
or knot of the blood-vessels, the spring or fountain of
the blood, which is carried impetuously round j the
blood is the 'pabulum or food of the flesh ; and for the
purpose of nourishment, the body is laid out into canals,
like those, which are drawn through gardens, that the
blood may be conveyed, as from a fountain, to every
part of the pervious body.”
Hippocrates was nearly contemporary with the great
philosophers of whom we have been speaking, about
400 years before the Christian era. He is said to have History.
separated the profession of philosophy and physic, and —v 
to have been the first who applied to physic aloue as the
business of his life. He is likewise generally supposed
to be the first who wrote upon anatomy. We know
of nothing that was written expressly upon the subject
before $ and the first anatomical dissection which has
been recorded was made by his friend Democritus of
Abdera.
If, however, we read the works of Hippocrates with
impartiality, and apply his accounts of the parts to
what we know of the human body, we must allow his
descriptions to be imperfect, incorrect, sometimes extra¬
vagant, and often unintelligible, that of the bones only
excepted. He seems to have studied these with more
success than the other parts, and tells us that he had an
opportunity of seeing a human skeleton.
From Hippocrates to Galen, who flourished towards
the end of the second century, in the decline of the
Roman empire, that is, in the space of 600 years, ana¬
tomy was greatly improved j the philosophers still con¬
sidering it as a most curious and interesting branch of
natural knowledge, and the physicians as a principal
foundation of their art. Both of them, in that interval
of time, contributed daily to the common stock, by
more accurate and extended observations, and by the
lights of improving philosophy.
As these two great men had applied very particularly
to the study of animal bodies, they not only made great
improvements, especially in physiology, but raised the
credit of natural knowledge, and spread it as wide as
Alexander’s empire.
Few of Aristotle’s writings were made public in his
lifetime. He affected to say that they would he unin¬
telligible to those who had not heard them explained at
his lectures j and, except the use which Theophrastus
made of them, they were lost to the public for above
130 years after the death of Theophrastus; and at last
came out defective from bad preservation, and corrupted
by men, who, without proper qualifications, presumed
to correct and to supply what was lost.
From the time of Theophrastus, the study of natural
knowledge at Athens was for ever on the decline ; and
the reputation of the Lycseum and Academy was almost
confined to the studies which are subservient to oratory
and public speaking.
The other great institution for Grecian education
was at Alexandria in Egypt. The first Ptolemies,
both from their love of literature, and to give true and
permanent dignity to their empire, and to Alexander’s
favourite city, set up a grand school in the palace it¬
self, with a museum and a library, which, we may
say, has been the most famed in the world. Anatomy
among other sciences, was publicly taught; and the
two distinguished anatomists were Frasistratus the pu¬
pil and friend of Theophrastus, and Herophilus. Their
voluminous works are all lost; but they are quoted by
Galen almost in every page. These professors were
probably the first who were authorized to dissect human
bodies; a peculiarity which marks strongly the philo¬
sophical magnanimity of the first Ptolemy, and fixes a
great era in the history of anatomy. And it was, no
doubt, from this particular advantage which the Alex¬
andrians had above all othe,rs, that their school not only
gained, but for many centuries preserved, the first repu¬
tation i
A N A T
ation for medical education. Ammianus Marcellinus,
who lived about 650 years after the schools were set up,
says, they were so famous in his time, that it was enough
to secure credit to any physician if he could say he had
studied at Alexandria.
Heroplulus has been said to have anatomized yoo
bodies. We must allow for exaggeratioh. Nay, it
was said, that both he and Erasistratus made it a com¬
mon practice to open living bodies, that they might dis¬
cover the more secret springs of life. But this, no doubt,
was only a vulgar opinion, arising from the prejudices
of mankind ; and accordingly, without any good reason,
such tales have been told of modern anatomists, and
have been believed by the vulgar.
Among the Romans, though it is probable they had
physicians and surgeons from the foundation of the city,
yet we have no account of any of these applying them¬
selves to anatomy for a very long time. Archagathus
was the first Greek physician established in Rome, and
he was banished the city on account of the severity of
his operations.-—Asclepiades, who flourished in Rome
101 years after Archagathus, in the time of Pompey,
attained such a high reputation as to be ranked in the
same class with Hippocrates. He seemed to have some
notion of the air in respiration acting by its weight;
and in accounting for digestion, he supposed the food
to be no farther changed than by a comminution into
extremely small parts, which being distributed to the
several parts of the body, is assimilated to the nature of
each. One Cassius, commonly thought to be a dis¬
ciple of Asclepiades, accounted for the right side of the
body becoming paralytic on hurting the left side of the
brain in the same manner as has been done by the mo¬
derns, viz. from the crossing of the nerves from the
right to the left side of the brain.
From the time of Asclepiades to the second century,
physicians seem to have been greatly encouraged at
Rome y and in the writings of Celsus, Rufus, Pliny,
Coelius Aurelianus, and Arateus, we find several ana¬
tomical observations, but mostly very superficial and in¬
accurate. Towards the end of the second century lived
Claudius Galenus Pergamus, whose name is so well
known in the medical world. He applied himself par¬
ticularly to the study of anatomy, and did more in that
way than all that went before him. He seems, how¬
ever, to have been at a great loss for human subjects to
operate upon ; and therefore his descriptions of the
parts are mostly taken from brute animals. His works
contain the fullest history of anatomists, and the most
complete system of the science, to be met with any
where before him, or for several centuries after ; so that
a number of passages in them were reckoned absolutely
unintelligible for many ages, until explained by the dis¬
coveries of succeeding anatomists.
About the end of the fourth century, Nimesius bishop
of Emissa wrote a treatise on the nature of man, in
which it is said were contained two celebrated modern
discoveries •, the one, the uses of the bile, boasted of by
Sylvius de la Boe *, and the other, the circulation of the
blood. This last, however, is proved by Dr Freind, in
his History of Physic, p. 229. to be falsely ascribed to
this author.
The Roman empire beginning now to be oppressed
by the barbarians, and sunk in gross superstition, learn¬
ing of all kinds decreased j and when the empire was
O M Y. Introt
totally overwhelmed by those barbarous nations, every HistorJ
appearance of science was almost extinguished in Eu- ^—y—
rope. The only remains of it were among the Ara¬
bians in Spain and in Asia.—The Saracens, who came
into Spain, destroyed at first all the Greek books which
the Vandals had "spared ; but though the government
was in a constant struggle and fluctuation during 800
years before they were driven out, they received a taste
for learning from their countrymen of the east; several
of their princes encouraged liberal studies; public
schools were set up at Cordova, rloledo, and other
towns, and translations of the Greeks into the Arabic
were universally in the hands of their teachers.
Thus was the learning of the Grecians transferred to
the Arabians. But though they had so good a founda¬
tion to build upon, this art \\a.s never improved while
they were masters of the world : for they were satisfied
with commenting upon Galen, and seem to have made
no dissection of human bodies.
Abdollatipb, who was himself a teacher of anatomy,
a man eminent in his time (at and about 1202) for
his learning and curiosity *, a great traveller, who had
been bred at Bagdad, and had seen many of the great
cities and principal places for study in the Saracen em¬
pire $ who had a favourable opinion of original observa¬
tion, in opposition to book learning; who boldly cor¬
rected some of Galen’s errors, and was persuaded that
many more might be detected: this man, we say, never
made or saw, or seemed to think of a human dissection.
He discovered Galen’s errors in the osteology, by going
to burying grounds, with his students and others, where
he examined and demonstrated the bones j he earnestly
recommended that method of study, in preference even
to the reading of Galen, and thought that many farther
improvements might be made j yet he seemed not to
have an idea that a fresh subject might be dissected
with that view.
Perhaps the Jewish tenets which the Mahometans
adopted about uncleanness and pollution, might pret-
vent their handling dead bodies ; or their opinion of
what was supposed to pass between an angel and the
dead person, might make them think disturbing the
dead highly sacrilegious. Such, however, as Arabian
learning was, for many ages together there was hardly
any other in all the western countries of Europe. It
was introduced by the establishment of the Saracens in
Spain in 711, and kept its ground till the restoration
of learning in the end of the 15th century. The state
of anatomy in Europe, in the times of Arabian influ¬
ence, may be seen by reading a very short system of
anatomy drawn up by Mundinus, in the year 1315. It
was principally extracted from what the Arabians had
preserved of Galen’s doctrine $ and, rude as it is, in
that age it was judged to be so masterly a performance,
that it was ordered by a public decree, that it should
be read in all the schools of Italy j and it actually con¬
tinued to be almost the only book which was read up¬
on the subject for above 200 years. Cortesius gives
him the credit of being the great restorer of anatomy,
and the first who dissected human bodies among the mo¬
derns.
A general prejudice against dissection, however, pre¬
vailed till the 16th century. The emperor Charles
ordered a consultation to be held by the divines of Sa¬
lamanca, in order to determine whether or not it was
lawful
itrod.
listory.
ANATOMY.
>77
lawful in point of conscience to dissect a dead body.
In Muscovy, till vei*y lately, both anatomy and the use
of skeletons were forbidden } the first as inhuman, and
the latter as subservient to witchcraft.
In the beginning of the 15th century, learning re¬
vived considerably in Europe, and particularly physic,
by means of copies of the Greek authors brought from
the sack of Constantinople ; after which the number of
anatomists and anatomical books increased to a prodi¬
gious degree. The Europeans becoming thus posses¬
sed of the ancient Greek fathers of medicine, were for
a long time so much occupied in correcting the copies
they could obtain, studying the meaning, and com¬
menting upon them, that they attempted nothing of
their own, especially in anatomy.
And here the late Dr Hunter introduces into the
annals of this art, a genius of the first rate, Leonardo
da Vinci, who had been formerly overlooked, because
he was of another profession, and because he published
nothing upon the subject. He is considered by the
doctor as by far the best anatomist and physiologist of
his time : and was certainly the first man we know of
who introduced the practice of making anatomical
drawings.
Vassare, in his Lives of the Painters, speaks of Leo¬
nardo thus, after telling us that he had composed a
book of the anatomy of a horse, for his own study:
“ He afterwards applied himself with more diligence
to the human anatomy; in which study he reciprocally
received and communicated assistance to Marc. Anto¬
nio della Torre, an excellent philosopher, who then
read lectures in Pavia, and wrote upon this subject; and
who was the first, as I have heard, who began to illu¬
strate medicine from the doctrine of Galen, and to give
true light to anatomy, which till that time had been
involved in clouds of darkness and ignorance. In this
he availed himself exceedingly of the genius and labour
of Leonardo, w7ho made a book of studies, drawn with
red chalk, and touched with a pen, with great diligence,
of such objects as he had himself dissected *, where he
made all the bones, and to those he joined, in their or¬
der, all the nerves, and covered them with the muscles.
And concerning those, from part to part, he wrote re¬
marks in letters of an ugly form, which are written by
the left hand, backwards, and not to be understood but
by those who know the method of reading them ; for
they are not to be read without a looking-glass. Of
these papers of the human anatomy, there is.a great
part in the possession of M. Francesco daMelzo, a Mi¬
lanese gentleman, who, in the time of Leonardo, was a
most beautiful boy, and much beloved by him, as he is
nowT a beautiful and genteel old man, who reads those
writings, and carefully preserves them, as precious re¬
lics, together with the portrait of Leonardo of happy
memory. It appears impossible that that divine spirit
should reason so well upon the arteries, and muscles,
and nerves, and veins) and with such diligence of every
thing,” &c. &c.
Those very drawings and the writings are happily
found to be preserved in his majesty’s great collection
of original drawings, where the doctor was permitted
to examine them } and his sentiments upon the occasion
he thus expresses: “ I expected to see little more than
«uch designs in anatomy as might be useful to a pain¬
ter in his own profession ; but I saw, and indeed with
Vol. II. Fart L t
astonishment, that Leonardo had been a general and a History-
deep student. When I consider what pains he has ta- y
ken upon every part of the body, the superiority of his
universal genius, his particular excellence in mechanics
and hydraulics, and the attention with which such a
man would examine and see objects which he was to
draw, I am fully persuaded that Leonardo was the best
anatomist at that time in the world. M e must give the
I jth century the credit of Leonardo’s anatomical stu¬
dies, as he was 55 years of age at the close of that cen-
tury.”
In the beginning of the 16th century, Achillinus and
Benedictus, but particularly Berengarius and Massa, fol¬
lowed out the improvement of anatomy in Italy, where
they taught it, and published upon the subject. These
first improvers made some discoveries from their own
dissections : but it is not surprising that they should
have been diffident of themselves, and have followed
Galen almost blindly, when his authority had been so
long established, and when the enthusiasm for Greek
authors was rising to such a pitch.
Soon after this, we may say about the year 1540,
the great Vesalius appeared. He was studious, labo¬
rious, and ambitious. From Brussels, the place of his
birth, he went to Louvain, and thence to Paris, where
anatomy was not yet making a considerable figure j and
then to Louvain to teach •, from which place, very for¬
tunately for his reputation, he was called to Laly,
where he met with every opportunity that such a ge¬
nius for anatomy could desire, that is, books, subjects,
and excellent draughtsmen. He was equally laborious
in reading the ancients, and in dissecting bodies. And
in making the comparison, he could not but see, that
there was great room for improvement, and that many
of Galen’s descriptions were erroneous. When he was
but a young man, he published a noble system ol ana¬
tomy, illustrated with a great number of elegant fi¬
gures.—In this work he found so many occasions of
correcting Galen, that his contemporaries, partial to
antiquity, and jealous of his reputation, complained that
he carried his turn for improvement and criticisms to
licentiousness. The spirit of opposition and emulation
was presently roused } and Sylvius in I ranee, Colum¬
bus, Fallopius, and Eustachius in Italy, who were all
in high anatomical reputation about the middle of this
16th century, endeavoured to defend Galen at the ex¬
pence of Vesalius. In their disputes they made their
appeals to the human body : and thus in a few years
the art was greatly improved. And Vesalius being de¬
tected in the very fault which he condemns in Galen,
to wit, describing from the dissections of brutes, and
not of the human body, it exposed so fully that blun¬
der of the older anatomists, that in succeeding times
there has been little reason for such complaint.—Be¬
sides the above, he published several other’ anatomical
treatises. He has been particularly serviceable by im¬
posing names on the muscles, most of which are retain¬
ed to this day. Formerly they were distinguished by
numbers, which were differently applied by almost every
author.
In 1561, Gabriel Fallopius, professor of anatomy at
Fadua, published a treatise of anatomy under the titie
of Observationes Anatonncce. This was designed as a
supplement to Vesalius j many of whose descriptions
lie corrects, though he always makes mention ol him
178 ' ANATOMY. Introd.
History. ;n an Jjonoarable manner. Fallopius made many great
',l^v discoveries, and his book is well worth the petmsal of
every anatomist.
In 1 ^63, Bartholomoeus Eustachius published his
Qpuscula Anatomica at Venice, which have ever since
been justly admired for the exactness of the descrip¬
tions, and the discoveries contained in them. He
published afterwards some other pieces, in which there
is little of anatomy j but never published the great
work he had promised, which was to be adorned with
copperplates representing all the parts of the human
body. These plates, after lying buried in an old ca¬
binet for upwards of 153 years, were at last discover¬
ed and published in the year 1714, by Lancisi the
pope’s physician j who added a short explicatory text,
because Eustachius’s own writing could not be found.
From this time the study of anatomy gradually dif¬
fused itself over Europe : insomuch that for the last
hundred years it has been daily improving by the la¬
bour of a number of pi’ofessed anatomists almost in
every country of Europe.
We may form a judgment about the state of anatomy
even in Italy, in the beginning of the 17th century, from
the information of Cortesius. He had been professor
of anatomy at Bologna, and was then professor of me¬
dicine at Massana j where, though he had a great de¬
sire to improve himself in the art, and to finish a trea¬
tise which he had begun on practical anatomy, in 24
years he could twice only procure an opportunity of
dissecting a human body, and then it was with difficul¬
ties and in hurry \ whereas he had expected to have
done so, he says, once every year, according to the cu¬
stom in the famous academies of Italy.
In the very end of the 16th century, our great Hai'-
vey, as wTas the custom of the times, went to Italy to
study medicine ; for Italy was still the favourite seat of
the arts: And in the very beginning of the 17th cen¬
tury, soon after Harvey’s return to England, his master
in anatomy, Fabricius ab Aquapendente, published an
account of the valves in the veins, which he had disco¬
vered many years before, and no doubt taught in his
' lectures when Harvey attended them.
This discovery evidently affected the established doc¬
trine of all ages, that the veins carried the blood from
the liver to all parts of the body for nourishment. It
set Harvey to work upon the use of the heart and vas¬
cular systems in animals 5 and in the course of some
years he was so happy as to discover, and to prove be-
yond#all possibility of doubt, the circulation of the blood.
He taught his new doctrine in his lectures about the
year 16:6, and printed it in 1628.
It was by far the most important step that has been
made in the knowledge of animal bodies in any age.
It not only reflected useful lights upon what had been
already found out in anatomy, but also pointed out the
means of further investigation. And accordingly wre
see, that from Harvey to the present time, anatomy
has been so much improved, that we may reasonably
question if the ancients have been further outdone by
the moderns in any other branch of knowledge. From
one day to another there has been a constant succession
of discoveries, relating either to the structure or func¬
tions of our bodies ; and new anatomical processes,
both of investigation and demonstration, have been daily
invented. Many parts of the body which were not
3.
known in Harvey’s time have since then been brought History,
to light: and of those which were known, the inter- —v~—
nal composition and functions remained unexplained j
and indeed must have remained inexplicable without
the knowledge of the circulation.
Harvey’s doctrine at first met with considerable op¬
position 5 but in the space of about 20 years it was so
generally and so warmly embraced, that it was ima¬
gined every thing in physic would be explained. But
time and experience have taught us, that we still are,
and probably must long continue to be, very ignorant 5
and that in the study of the human body, and of its
diseases, there will always be an extensive field for the
exercise of sagacity.
After the discovery and knowledge of the circula¬
tion of the blood, the next question would naturally
have been about the passage and route of the nutritious
part of the food or chyle from the bowels to the blood
vessels : And, by good fortune, in a few years after
Harvey had made his discovery, Asellius, an Italian
physician, found out the lacteals, or vessels which carry
the chyle from the intestines 5 and printed his account
of them, with coloured prints, in the year 1627, the
very year before Harvey’s book came out.
For a number of years after these two publications,
the anatomists in all parts of Europe were daily open¬
ing living dogs, either to see the lacteals or to observe
the phenomena of the circulation. In making an ex¬
periment of this kind, Pecquet in France was fortunate
enough to discover the thoracic duct, or common trunk
of all the lacteals, which conveys the chyle into the
subclavian vein. He printed his discovery in the year
1651. And now the lacteals having been traced from
the intestines to the thoracic duct, and that duct having
been traced to its termination in a blood vessel, the pas¬
sage of the chyle was completely made out.
The same practice of opening living animals furnish¬
ed occasions of discovering the lymphatic vessels. This
good fortune fell to the lot of Rudbec first, a young
Swedish anatomist ; and then to Thomas Bartholine, a
Danish anatomist, who was the first who appeared in
print upon the lymphatics. His hodk came out in the
year 1653, that is, two years after that of Pecquet.
And then it was very evident that they had been seen
before by Dr Highmore and others, who had mistaken
them for lacteals. But none of the anatomists of those
times could make out the origin of the lymphatics, and
none of the physiologists could give a satisfactory ac¬
count of their use.
The circulation of the blood and the passage of the
chyle having been satisfactorily traced out in full grown
animals, the anatomists w'ere naturally led next to con¬
sider how these animal processes were carried on in the
child while in the womb of the mother. Accordingly
the male and female organs, the appearances and con¬
tents of the pregnant uterus, the incubated egg, and
every phenomenon which could illustrate generation,
became the favourite subject for about 30 years with
the principal anatomists of Europe.
Thus it would appear to have been in theory j but
Dr Hunter believes, that in fact, as Harvey’s master
Fabricius laid the foundation for the discovery of the
circulation of the blood by teaching him the valves of
the veins, and thereby inviting him to consider that
subject 3 so Fabricius, by his lectures, and by his ele-
gant
ntrod. A N A T
History, gant work De Formato Fcctu, et de Formatione Ovi et
Pulli, probably made that likewise a favourite subject
with Dr Harvey. But whether he took up the subject
of generation in consequence of his discovery of the
circulation, or was led to it by his honoured master Fa-
bricius, he spent a great deal of his time in the inqui¬
ry ; and published his observations in a book Fie Gene-
ratione Animalium, in the year 1651, that is, six years
before his death.
In a few years after this, Swammerdam, Van Horn,
Steno, and D. Graaf, excited great attention to the
subject of generation, by their supposed discovery that
the females of viviparous animals have ovaria, that is,
clusters of eggs in their loins, like oviparous animals ;
which, when impregnated by the male, are conveyed
into the uterus : so that a child is produced from an
egg as well as a chick ; with this difference that one is
hatched within, and the other without, the body of the
mother.
Malpighi, a great Italian genius, some time after,
made considerable advances upon the subject of gene¬
ration. He had the good fortune to be the first who
used magnifying glasses with address in tracing the
first appearances in the formation of animals. He like¬
wise made many other observations and improvements
in the minutice of anatomy by his microscopical labours,
and by cultivating comparative anatomy.
This distinguished anatomist gave the first public
specimen of his abilities by printing a dissertation on
the lungs, anno 1661, a period so remarkable for the
study of nature, that it would be injustice to pass it
without particular notice.
At the same time flourished Laurentius Bellinus at
Florence, and was the first who introduced mathema¬
tical reasoning in physic. In 1662, Simon Pauli pub¬
lished a treatise Fie Albandis Ossibus. He had long
been admired for the white skeletons he prepared j and
at last discovered his method, which was by exposing
the bones all winter to the weather.
Johannes Swammerdam of Amsterdam also publish¬
ed some anatomical treatises •, but was most remarkable
for his knowledge of preserving the parts of bodies en¬
tire for many years, by injecting their vessels. He
also published a treatise on respiration 5 wherein he
mentioned his having figures of all the parts of the bo¬
dy, as big as the life, cut in copper, which he design¬
ed to publish, with a complete system of anatomy.
These, however, were never made public by Sw'am-
merdam but, in 1683, Gothofridus Bidloo, professor
of anatomy at Leyden, published a work entitled Ana-
tomia Corporis Hmnani, where all the parts were deli¬
neated in very large plates almost as big as the life.
Mr Cowper, an English surgeon, bought 300 copies of
these figures 5 and in 1698, published them with an
English text, quite different from Bidloo’s Latin one j
to which were added letters in Bidloo’s figures, and
some few figures of Mr Cowper’s own. To this work
Cowper’s name was prefixed, without the least mention
of Bidloo, except on purpose to confute him. Bidloo
immediately published a very ill-natured pamphlet, cal¬
led Gulielmus Cowperus citatus cor am tribunali; ap¬
pealing to the Royal Society, how far Cowper ought to
be punished as a plagiary of the worst kind, and endea¬
vouring to prove him an ignorant deceitful fellow.
Cow-per answered him in his own style, in a pamphlet
O M Y.
called his Vindicice ; endeavouring to prove, either
that Bidloo did not understand his own tables, or that
they were none of his. It was even alleged that those
were the tables promised by Swammerdam, and which
Bidloo had got from his widow. This, however, ap¬
pears to have been only an invidious surmise, there be¬
ing unquestionable evidence that they were really the
performance of Bidloo.,
Soon after, Isbrandus Diembx'oeck, professor of ana¬
tomy at Utrecht, began to appear as an author. Plis
work contained very little original j but he was at great
pains to collect from others whatever was valuable in
their writings, and his system was the common stand¬
ard among anatomical students for many years.
About the same time, Antonins Leeuwenhoek of
Delft improved considerably on Malpighi’s use of mi¬
croscopes. These two authors took up anatomy where
others had dropt it 5 and, by this new art, they brought
a number of amazing things to light. They discovered
the red globules of the blood j they were enabled to see
the actual circulation of the blood in the transparent
parts of living animals, and could measure the velocity
of its motion j they discovered that the arteries and
veins had no intermediate cells or spongy substance, as
Harvey and all the preceding anatomists had supposed,
but communicated one with the other by a continuation
of the same tube.
Leeuwenhoek was in great fame likewise for his dis¬
covery of the animalcula in the semen. Indeed there
was scarcely a part of the body, solid or fluid, which
escaped his examination •, and he almost everywhere
found, that what appeared to the naked eye to be rude
indigested matter, was in reality a beautiful and regu¬
lar compound.
After this period, Nuck added to our knowledge of
the absorbent system already mentioned, by his injec¬
tions of the lymphatic glands 5 Ruysch, by his descrip¬
tion of the valves of the lymphatic vessels 5 and Dr
Meckel, by his accurate account of the whole system ;
and by tracing those vessels in many parts where they
had not before been described.
Besides these authors, Drs Hunter and Monro have
called the attention of the public to this part of anato¬
my, in their controversy concerning the discovery of
the office of the lymphatics.
When the lymphatic vessels were first seen and tra¬
ced into the thoracic duct, it was natural for anato¬
mists to suspect, that as the lacteals absorbed from the
cavity of the intestines, the lymphatics, which are si¬
milar in figure and structure, might possibly do the
same office with respect to other parts of the body :
and accordingly, Dr Glisson, who wrote in 1654, SUP"
poses these vessels arose from cavities, and that their
use was to absorb 3 and Frederic Hoffman has very ex¬
plicitly laid down the doctrine of the lymphatic vessels
being a system of absorbents. But anatomists in gene¬
ral have been of a contrary opinion : for from experi¬
ments, particularly such as were made by injections,
they have been persuaded that the lymphatic vessels did
not arise from cavities, and did not absorb, but were
merely continuations from small arteries. The doc¬
trine, therefore, that the lymphatics, like the lacteals,
were absorbents, as had been suggested by Glisson and
by Hoffman, has been revived by Dr Hunter and Dr
Monro, who have controverted the experiments of
Z 2 ' ^eir
18o . A N A T
History, their predecessors in anatomy, and have endeavoured
to prove that the lymphatic vessels are not continued
from arteries, but are absorbents.
To this doctrine, however, several objections have
been started, particularly by Haller, {Elem. Phys. 1. 24.
§ 2, 3.) j and it has been found, that before the doc¬
trine of the lymphatics being a system of absorbents
can be established, it must first be determined whether
this system is to be found in other animals besides man
and quadrupeds. Mr Hewson claims the merit of ha¬
ving proved the affirmative of this question by disco¬
vering the lymphatic system in birds, fish, and amphi¬
bious animals. See Phil. Trans, vol. Iviii. and Ixix.—
And latterly, Mr Cruikshank has traced the ramifica¬
tions of that system in almost every part of the body;
and from his dissections, figures have been made and
lately published to the world. To Mr Sheldon also
we are much indebted for his illustration of this system,
which promises to give great satisfaction, but of which
only a part has been yet published.
The gravid uterus is a subject likewise which has re¬
ceived considerable improvements, particularly relating
to one very important discovery ; viz. that the internal
membrane of the uterus, which Dr Hunter has named
decidua, constitutes the exterior part of the secundines
or after-birth, and separates from the rest of the uterus
every time that a woman either bears a child or sutlers
a miscarriage. This discovery includes another, to
wit, that the placenta is partly made up of an excres¬
cence or efflorescence from the uterus itself.
These discoveries are of the utmost consequence,
both in the physiological question about the connexion
between the mother and child, and likewise in explain¬
ing the phenomena of births and abortions, as well as
in regulating obstetrical practice.
The anatomists of this century have improved ana¬
tomy, and have made the study of it much more easy,
by giving us moi'e correct as well as more numerous
figures. It is amazing to think of what has been done
in that time. We have had four large folio books of
figures of the bones, viz. Cheselden’s, Albinus’s, Sue’s
and Trew’s. Of the muscles, we have had two large
folios ; one from Cowper, which is elegant; and one
from Albinus, which, from the accuracy and labour of
the work, we may suppose will never be outdone. Of
the blood vessels we have a large folio from Dr Haller.
We have had one upon the nerves from Dr Meckel,
and another by Dr Monro junior. We have had Albi-
nus’s, Roederer’s, Jenty’s, and Hunter’s works upon
the pregnant uterus ; Weitbrecht and Leber on the
joints and fresh bones ; Soemerring on the brain ; Zinn
on the eye; Cotunnius, Meckel junior, &c. on the
ear ; Walter on the nerves of the thorax and abdomen ;
Dr Monro on the bursae mucosae, &c.
It would be endless to mention the anatomical fi¬
gures that have been published in this century of par¬
ticular and smaller parts of the body, by Morgagni,
Ruysch, Valsalva, Sanctorini, Heister, Vater, Cant,
Zimmerman, Walterus, and others.
Those elegant plates of the brain, however, just pub¬
lished by M. Vicq. d’Azyr, must not pass without no¬
tice, especially as they form part of an universal system
of anatomy and physiology, both human and compara¬
tive, proposed to be executed in the same splendid style.
Upon the brain alone 19 folio plates are employed;
2
Q M Y, Introd
of which several are coloured. The figures are deli- History,
neated with accuracy and clearness ; but the colouring ’'■«—%—-
is rather beautiful than correct. Such parts of this
work as may be published, cannot fail to be equally
acceptable to the anatomist and the philosopher; but
the entire design is apparently too extensive to be ac¬
complished within the period of a single life. In our
own country, also, a very great anatomical work is
carrying on by Andrew Bell, F. S. A. S. engraver to
his Iloyal Highness the Prince of Wales, with the ap¬
probation of Dr Monro, and under the inspection of
his very ingenious assistant Mr Fyfe. It is to compose
a complete illustration, both general and particular, of
the human body, by a selection from the best plates of
all the greatest anatomists, as well foreign as of this
country, exhibiting the latest discoveries in the science,
and accompanied with copious explanations. The whole
number of plates mentioned in the Px-ospectus is 240,
of which 152 are already done; all in royal folio.
To the foreign treatises already mentioned may be
added those recently published by Sabbatier and Plenck
on anatomy in general. Among ourselves, the writ¬
ings of Keil, Douglas, Cheselden, the first Monro,
Winslowf, &c. are too well known to need description.
The last of these used to be recommended as a standard
for the students of anatomy; but it has of late given
place to a more accurate and compi'ehensive system, in
three volumes, published by Mr Elliot of Edinburgh,
upon a plan approved of by Dr Monro, and executed by
Mr Fyfe. Dr Simmons of London has also obliged the
world with an excellent system of anatomy; and ano¬
ther work under the title of “ Elements of Anatomy
and the Animal Economy:” in which the subjects are
treated with uncommon elegance and perspicuity.
In the latter part of the last century, anatomy made
two great steps, by the invention of injections, and the
method of making what we commonly call preparations.
These two modern arts have really been of infinite use
to anatomy ; and besides have introduced an elegance
into our administrations, which in former times could
not have been supposed to be possible. They arose in
Holland under Swammerdam and Ruysch, and after¬
wards in England under Cowper, St Andre, and others,
where they have been greatly improved.
The anatomists of former ages had no other know¬
ledge of the blood vessels than what they were able to
collect from laborious dissections, and fi’om examining
the smaller branches of them, upon some lucky occa¬
sion, when they wjere found more than commonly loaded
with red blood. But filling the vascular system with a
bright coloui’ed wax, enables us to ti’ace the large vessels
with great ease, renders the smaller much more conspi¬
cuous, and makes thousands of the very minute ones
visible, which from their delicacy, and the transparency
of their natural contents, are otherwise imperceptible.
The modern art of corroding the fleshy parts with a
menstruum, and of leaving the moulded wax entii'e, is
so exceedingly useful, and at the same time so orna¬
mental, that it does great honour to the ingenious in¬
ventor Dr Nicholls.
The wax-work arts of the moderns might deserve no¬
tice in any history of anatomy, if the masters in that
way had not been so careless in their imitation. Many
of the wax figures are so tawdry, with a show of unna¬
tural colours, and so very incorrect in the circumstances
trod. A N A T
. neral of figure, situation, and the like, that though they
iew of strike a vulgar eye with admiration, they must appear
subject, piciiculous to an anatomist, Uut those figures, which
-V   are cast in wax, plaster, or lead, from the real subject,
and which of late years have been frequently made
here, are, of course, very correct in all the principal
parts, and may he considered as no insignificant acqui¬
sition to modern anatomy. The proper, or principal,
use of this art is, to preserve a very perfect likeness ot
such subjects as we but seldom can meet with, or can¬
not well preserve in a natural state j a subject in preg¬
nancy, for example.
The modern improved methods ol preserving animal
bodies, or parts of them, has been of the greatest ser¬
vice to anatomy especially in saving the time and la¬
bour of the anatomist in the nicer dissections of the
small parts of the body. For now, whatever he has
prepared with care, he can preserve; and the object is
ready to be seen at any time. And in the same man¬
ner he can preserve anatomical curiosities, or rarities of
every kind j such as, parts that are uncommonly form¬
ed ; parts that are diseased j the parts of the pregnant
uterus and its contents. Large collections of such cu¬
riosities, which modern anatomists are striving almost
everywhere to procure, are of infinite service to the
art, especially in the hands of teachers. They give stu¬
dents clear ideas about many things which it is very
essential to know, and yet which it is impossible that a
teacher should be able to show otherwise, were he ever
so well supplied with fresh subjects,
§ 2. Ffetu of the Subject in general, and Plan of the
following Treatise.
The etymology of the word anatomy, as above gi¬
ven, implies simply dissection ; hut by this term some¬
thing more is usually understood.
It is every day made use of to express a knowledge
of the human body; and a person who is said to un¬
derstand anatomy, is supposed to be conversant with
the structure and arrangement of the different solid
parts of the body.
It is commonly divided into Anatomy, properly so
called \ and Comparative Anatomy : the first of these
is confined solely to the human body ; the latter in¬
cludes all animals, so far as a knowledge of their struc¬
ture may tend to perfect our ideas of the human body.
The term anatomy may also have another and more
extensive signification: it may be employed to express
not only a knowledge of the structure and disposition of
the parts, but likewise of their economy and use. Con¬
sidered in this light, it will seldom fail to excite the
curiosity of people of taste, as a branch of philosophy j
since, if it is pleasing to be acquainted with the struc¬
ture of body, it is certainly more so to discover all the
springs which give life and motion to the machine, and
to observe the admirable mechanism by which so many
different functions are executed.
Astronomy and anatomy, as Dr Hunter, after Fon-
tenelle, observes, are the studies which present us with
Ihe most striking view of the two greatest attributes of
the Supreme Being. The first of these fills the mind
with the idea of his immensity, in the largeness, di¬
stances, and number of the heavenly bodies } the last
astonishes with his intelligence and art in the variety
and delicacy of animal mechanism.
O M Y, i&i
The human body has been commonly enough known General
by the name Microcosmus, or the little world j as it it view of
did not differ so much from the universal system of na- the robjec*.
tore in the symmetry and number of its parts as in
their size.
Galen’s excellent treatise De Usu Partimn, was com¬
posed as a prose hymn to the Creator 5 and abounds
with as irresistible proofs of a supreme Cause and go¬
verning Providence, as we find in modern physico-
theology. And Cicero dwells more on the structure and
economy of animals than on all the productions of na¬
ture besides, when he wants to prove the existence of the
gods from the order and beauty of the universe. He
there takes a survey of the body of man in a most
elegant synopsis of anatomy; and concludes thus:
“ Quibus rebus expositis, satis docuisse videor, hominis
natura, quanto omnes anteiret animantes. Fx quo dc-
bet intelligi, nec figuram situmque membrorum, nec in¬
genii mentisque vim talem effici potuisse fortuna.”
The satisfaction of mind which arises from the study
of anatomy, and the influence which it must naturally
have upon our minds as philosophers, cannot he better
conveyed than by the following passage from the same
author: “ Quae contuens animus, accepit ab his cogr
nitionem deorum, ex qua oritur pietas : cui conjuucta
justitia est, reliquaeque virtutes : ex quibus vita beata
exsistit, par et similis deorum, nulla alia re nisi immor-
talitate, quae nihil ad bene vivendum pertinet, cedens
caelestibus,”
It would be endless to quote the animated passages
of this sort which are to be found in the physicians,
philosophers, and theologists, who have considered the
structure and functions of animals with a view towards
the Creator. It is a view which must strike one with a
most awful conviction. Who can know and consider
the thousand evident proofs of.the astonishing art of the
Creator, in forming and sustaining an animal body such
as ours, without feeling the most pleasant enthusiasm ?
Can we seriously reflect upon this awful subject, with¬
out being almost lost in adoration ? without longing
for another life after this, in which we may be gratified
with the highest enjoyment which our faculties and na¬
ture seem capable of, the seeing and comprehending
the whole plan of the.Creator, in forming the universe
and in directing all its operations ?
But the more immediate purposes of anatomy con¬
cern those who are to be the guardians of health, as
this study is necessary to lay a foundation for all the
branches of medicine. The more we know of our fa¬
bric, the more reason we have to believe, that if our
senses were more acute, and our judgment more enlar¬
ged, we should be able to trace many springs of life
which are now hidden from us : by the same sagacity
we should discover the true causes and nature of dis¬
eases 5 and thereby be enabled to restore the health of
many, who are now, from our more confined know¬
ledge, said to labour under incurable disorders. By
such an intimate acquaintance with the economy of
our bodies, we should discover even the seeds of diseases,
and destroy them before they had taken root in the
constitution.
That anatomy is the very basis of surgery every body
allows. It is dissection alone that can teach us, where
we may cut the living body with freedom and dispatch 5
and where we may venture with great circumspection
and .
i82
ANATOMY.
Introd
General and delicacy; and where we must not upon any ac-
view of count attempt it. This informs the head, gives dex-
■ ie terjjy j]ie }land, and familiarizes the heart with a
sort of necessary inhumanity, the use of cutting instru¬
ments upon our fellow-creatures.
Resides the knowledge of our body, through all the
variety of its structure and operations in a sound state,
it is by anatomy only that we can arrive at the know¬
ledge of the true nature of most of the diseases which
afflict humanity. The symptoms of many disorders
are often equivocal 3 and diseases themselves are thence
frequently mistaken, even by sensible, experienced, and
attentive physicians. But by anatomical examination
after death, we can with certainty find out the mis¬
take, and learn to avoid it in any similar case.
This use of anatomy has been so generally adopted
by the moderns, that the cases already published are
almost innumerable : Mangetus, Morgagni, indeed ma¬
ny of the best modern writings in physic, are full of
them. And if we look among the physicians of the
best character, and observe those who have the art it¬
self, rather than the craft of the profession at heart}
we shall find them constantly taking pains to procure
leave to examine the bodies of their patients after death.
After having considered the rise and progress of ana¬
tomy ; the various discoveries that have been made in
it, from time to time } the great number of diligent
observers who have applied themselves to this art 5 and
the importance of the study, not only for the preven¬
tion and cure of diseases, but in furnishing the liveliest
proofs of divine wisdom ; the following questions seem
naturally to arise : For what purposes is there such a
variety of parts in the human body ? Why such a com¬
plication of nice and tender machinery ? W hy was
there not rather a more simple, less delicate, and less
expensive frame (a) P
In order to acquire a satisfactory general idea of this
subject, and find a solution of all such questions, let
us, in our imagination, 7nake a man : in other words,
let us suppose that the mind, or immaterial part, is to be
placed in a corporeal fabric, in order to hold a corre¬
spondence with other material beings by the interven¬
tion of the body \ and then consider, a priori, what will
be wanted for her accommodation. In this inquiry, we
shall plainly see the necessity or advantage, and there¬
fore the final cause, of most of the parts which we ac¬
tually find in the human body. And if we consider
that, in order to answer some of the requisites, human
wit and invention would be very insufficient j we need
not be surprised if we meet with some parts of the bo¬
dy whose use we cannot yet perceive, and with some
operations or functions which we cannot explain. Wre
can see that the whole bears the most striking charac¬
ters of excelling wisdom and ingenuity: but the im¬
perfect senses and capacity of man cannot pretend to
reach every part of a machine, which nothing less than
the intelligence and power of the Supreme Being could
contrive and execute.
First, then, The mind, the thinking immaterial agent,
must be provided with a place of immediate residence,
which shall have all the requisites for the union of spirit General
and body j accordingly she is provided with the brain, view of
where she dwells as governor and superintendant of thetl'6 subjecl
whole fabric. y—
In the next place, As she is to hold a correspondence
with all the material beings around her, she must be
supplied with organs fitted to receive the different kinds
of impressions which they will make. In fact, there¬
fore, we see that she is provided with the organs of
sense, as we call them; the eye is adapted to light;
the ear to sound *, the nose to smell $ the mouth to
taste ; and the skin to touch.
Further : She must be furnished with organs of com¬
munication between herself in the brain and those or¬
gans of sense, to give her information of all the im¬
pressions that are made upon them : and she must have
organs between herself in the brain and every other
part of the body, fitted to convey her commands and
influence over the whole. For these purposes the nerves
are actually given. They are chords, which rise from
the brain, the immediate residence of the mind, and
disperse themselves in branches through all parts of the
body. They convey all the different kinds of sensa¬
tions to the mind, in the brain j and likewise carry out
from thence all her commands or influence to the other
parts of the body. They are intended to be occasional
monitors against all such impressions as might endanger
the wellbeing of the whole, or of any particular part $
which vindicates the Creator of all things, in having
actually subjected us to those many disagreeable and
painful sensations which we are exposed to from a thou¬
sand accidents in life.
Moreover, the mind, in this corporeal system, must
be endued with the power of moving from place to
place, that she may have intercourse with a variety of
objects that she may fly from such as are disagreeable,
dangerous, or hurtful, and pursue such as are pleasant
or useful to her. And accordingly she is furnished
with limbs, and with muscles and tendons, the instru¬
ments of motion, which are found in every part of the
fabric where motion is necessary.
But to support, to give firmness and shape to the
fabric 5 to keep the softer parts in their proper places $
to give fixed points for, and the proper direction to
its motions as w'ell as to protect some of the more
important and tender organs from external injuries j
there must be some firm prop-work intenvoven through
the wdiole. And in fact, for such purposes the bones
are given.
The prop-work must not be made into one rigid fa¬
bric, for that would prevent motion. Therefore there
are a number of bones.
These pieces must all be firmly bound together, to
prevent their dislocation. And this end is perfectly
wrell answered by the ligaments.
The extremities of these bony pieces, where they
move and rub upon one another, must have smooth
and slippery surfaces for easy motion. This is most
happily provided for by the cartilages and mucus of
the ioints.
The
(a) Ihe following beautiful representation is taken from the late Dr Hunter’s Intt'oductory Lecture on Ana-
lomy.
itrod.
ANATOMY.
383
• neral ^ie interst^ces these parts must be filled up
-tew™!' with some soft and ductile matter, which shall keep
: subject, them in their places, unite them, and at the same time
—vt—* allow them to move a little upon one another. And
these purposes are answered by the cellular membrane
or adipose substance.
There must be an outward covering over the whole
apparatus, both to give it compactness and to defend it
from a thousand injuries j which, in fact, are the very
purposes of the skin and other integuments.
Lastly, The mind being formed lor society and in¬
tercourse with beings of her own kind, she must be en¬
dued with powers of expressing and communicating her
thoughts by some sensible marks or signs 5 which shall
be both easy to herself, and admit of great variety : and
accordingly she is provided with the organs and faculty
of speech, by which she can throw out signs with ama¬
zing facility, and vary them without end.
Thus we have built up an animal body which would
seem to be pretty complete : but as it is the nature of
matter to be altered and worked upon by matter ; so
in a very little time such a living creature must be de¬
stroyed, if there is no provision for i-epairing the inju¬
ries which she must commit upon herself, and those
which she must be exposed to from without. There¬
fore a treasure of blood is actually provided in the heart
and vascular system, full of nutritious and healing par¬
ticles, fluid enough to penetrate into the minutest parts
of the animal; impelled by the heart, and conveyed by
the arteries, it washes every part, builds up what was
broken down, and sweeps away the old and useless ma¬
terials. Hence we see the necessity or advantage of
the heart and arterial system.
What more there was of this blood than enough to
repair the present damages of the machine, must not be
lost, but should be returned again to the heart ; and for
this purpose the venous system is actually provided.
These requisites in the animal explain, a priori, the
circulation of the blood.
The old materials which were become useless, and are
swept off by the current of blood, must be separated and
thrown out of the system. Therefore‘glands, the or¬
gans of secretion, ai’e given for straining whatever is
redundant, vapid, or noxious, from the mass of blood j
and when strained, they are thrown out by emunctories,
called organs of excretion.
But now, as the machine must be constantly wear¬
ing, the reparation must be carried on without inter¬
mission, and the strainers must always be employed.
Therefore there is actually a perpetual circulation of the
blood, and the secretions are always going on.
Even all this provision, however, would not be suffi¬
cient j for that store of blood would soon be consumed,
and the fabric would break down, if there w’ere not a
provision made for fresh supplies. These we observe,
in fact, are profusely scattered round her in the ani¬
mal and vegetable kingdoms ; and she is furnished with
hands, the fittest instruments that could have been con¬
trived, for gathering them, and for preparing them in
a variety of ways for the mouth.
But these supplies, which we call food, must be con¬
siderably, changed $ they must be converted into blood.
Therefore she is provided with teeth for cutting and
bruising the food, and with a stomach for melting it
down: In short, with all the organs subservient to di¬
gestion. The finer parts of the aliments only can be General
useful in the constitution : these must be taken up and view of
conveyed into the blood, and the dregs must be thrown jlie Slll>ject‘
off. With this view the intestinal canal is actually gi¬
ven. It separates the nutritious part, which we call
chyle, to be conveyed into the blood by the system of
absorbent vessels j and the faeces pass downwards, to be
conducted out of the body.
Now we have got our animal not only furnished with
what is wanted for its immediate existence, but also
with the powers of protracting that existence to an in¬
definite length of time. But its duration, we may pre¬
sume, must necessarily he limited : for as it is nourish¬
ed, grows, and is raised up to its full strength and ut¬
most perfection j so it must in time, in common with
all material beings, begin to decay, and then burry on
to final ruin. Hence we see the necessity of a scheme
for renovation. Accordingly wise Providence, to per¬
petuate as well as to preserve his work, besides giving a
strong appetite for life and self-preservation, has made
animals male and female, and given them such organs
and passions as will secure the propagation of the spe¬
cies to the end of time.
Thus we see, that, by the very, imperfect survey
which human reason is able to take of this subject, the
animal man must necessarily be complex in corpo¬
real system, and in its operations.
He must have one great and general system, the vas¬
cular, branching through the whole for circulation:
Another, the nervous, with its appendages the organs
of sense, for every kind of feeling : And a third, for
the union and connexion of all those parts.
Besides these primary and general systems, lie re¬
quires others which may be more local or confined :
One for strength, support, and protection $ the bony
compages: Another for the requisite motions ol the
parts among themselves, as well as for moving from
place to place j the muscular part of the body : An¬
other to prepare nourishment for the daily recruit of
the body \ the digestive organs : and one for propagat¬
ing the species ; the organs of generation.
And in taking this general survey of what would ap¬
pear, a priori, to be necessary for adapting an.animal to
the situations of life, we observe, with great satisfaction,
that man is accordingly made of such systems, and for
such purposes. He has them all j and he has nothing
more except the organs of respiration. Breathing it
seemed difficult to account for hpriori: we only knew
it to be in fact essential and necessary to life. Not¬
withstanding this, when we saw all the. other parts oi
the body, and their functions, so well accounted for, and
so wisely adapted to their several purposes, there could
be no doubt that respiration was so likewise: And ac¬
cordingly, the discoveries of Hr Priestley have lately
thrown light upon this function also, as will be shown in
its proper place.
Of all the different systems in the human body, the
use and necessity are not more apparent, than the wis¬
dom and contrivance which has been exerted in putting
them afl into the most compact and convenient form :
in disposing them so, that they shall mutually receive
and give helps to one another \ and that all, or many
of the parts, shall not only answer their principal end
or purpose, but operate successfully and usefully in a
variety of secondary ways. .
184 ANA
General If we consider the whole animal machine in this
view of light, and compare it with any machine in which hu-
the subject man art ljas eXerted its utmost, suppose the best con-
^ structed ship that ever was built, we shall be convinced
beyond the possibility of doubt, that there are intel¬
ligence and power far surpassing what humanity can
boast of.
One superiority in the natural machine is peculiarly
striking. In machines of human contrivance or art,
there is no internal power, no principle in the machine
itself, by which it can alter and accommodate itself to
any injury which it may suffer, or make up any injury
which admits of repair. But in the natural machine,
the animal body, this is most wonderfully provided for,
by internal powers in the machine itself j many of
which are not more certain and obvious in their ef¬
fects, than they are above all human comprehension as
to the manner and means of their operation. Thus, a
wound heals up of itself j a broken bone is made firm
again by a callus 5 a dead part is separated and thrown
off: noxious juices are driven out by some of the
emunctoriesj a redundancy is removed by some spon¬
taneous bleeding j a bleeding naturally stops of itself j
and a great loss of blood, from any cause, is in some
measure compensated by a contracting power in the
vascular system, which accommodates the capacity of
the vessels to the quantity contained. The stomach
gives information when the supplies have been expend¬
ed j represents, with great exactness, the quantity and
the quality of what is wanted in the present state of the
T O M Y.
Part I
machine ; and in proportion as she meets with neglect, General
rises in her demand, urges her petition in a louder tone, view of I
and with more forcible arguments. For its protection, l^!e suljie(J|
an animal body resists heat and cold in a very wonderful
manner, and preserves an equal temperature in a burn¬
ing and in a freezing atmosphere.
A further excellence and superiority in the natural
machine, if possible, still more astonishing, more be¬
yond all human comprehension, than what we have
been speaking of, is the following : Besides those in¬
ternal powers of self-preservation in each individual,
when two of them co-operate, or act in concert, they are
endued with powers of making other animals, or ma¬
chines, like themselves, which again are possessed of
the same powers of producing others, and so of multi¬
plying the species without end.
These are powers which mock all human invention
or imitation. They are characteristics of the divine
Architect.
Having premised this general account of the subject,
we shall next consider the method to be observed in
treating it.
Anatomy, it has been already observed, is divided
into two parts $ Anatomy, properly so called, or the
anatomy of the human body, and Comparative Ana¬
tomy. In the following treatise we shall adopt the
same arrangement. In the first part we shall treat of
the Anatomy of the Human Body, and in the second of
Comparative Anatomy.
PART I.
ANATOMY OF THE HUMAN BODY.
THE study of the human body, as already noticed,
is commonly divided into two parts. The first, which
is called Anatomy, relates to the matter and structure
of its parts ; the second, called Physiology and animal
economy, relates to the principles and laws offits inter¬
nal operations and functions.
As the body is a compound of solids and fluids, Ana¬
tomy is divided into,
I. The Anatomy of the solids, and
1. The Anatomy of the fluids.
I. The solids, by which we mean all parts of our
body which are not fluid, are generally divided into
two classes, viz.
1. The hard solids or hones. This part of anatomy
is called Osteology ; which signifies the doctrine of the
bones.
2. The softer solids $ which part is called Sarcology,
viz. the doctrine of the flesh.
This division of the solids, we may observe, has pro¬
bably taken its origin from the vulgar observation, that
the body is made of bone and flesh. And as there are
many different kinds of what are called soft or fleshy
parts, Sarcology is subdivided into,
(l.) Angeiology, or the doctrine of vessels 5 by which
Is commonly understood blood vessels :
(2.) Adenology, of glands 5
(3.) Neurology, of nerves;
(4.) Myology, of muscles : and,
(5.) Splanchnology, of the viscera or bowels. There
is, besides, that part which treats of the organs of sense
and of the integuments.
This division of the solids has been here mentioned,
rather for the sake of explaining so many words, which
are constantly used by anatomists, than for its import¬
ance or accuracy. For besides many other objections
that might be urged, there are in the body three spe¬
cies of solids, viz. gristle or cartilage, hair, and nails j
which are of an intermediate nature between bone and
flesh j and therefore cannot so properly be brought into
the osteology or the sarcology. The cartilages were
classed with the bones: because the greatest number
of them are appendages to bones : and for the like rea¬
son the hair and the nails were classed with the integu¬
ments.
II. The FLUIDS of the human body may be divided
into three kinds, which Dr Hunter calls the crude, the
general or perfect, and the local or secretedfluid.
1. By the crude fluid is meant the chyle, and what¬
ever is absorbed at the surfaces of the bodyin other
words, what is recently taken into the body, and is not
yet mixed with or converted into blood.
2. The general or perfect fluid is the blood itself j
viz. what is contained in the heart, arteries, and vein*,
and is going on in the round of the circulation.
3* The
)hap. I. ANA
)steo!ogy. 3» The local or secreted, are those fluids peculiar to
.—y—particular parts of the body, which are strained off from
the blood, and yet are very different in their properties
from the blood. They are commonly called secretions ;
and some are useful, others excrementitious.
In treating of the Physiology, it is very difficult to say
what plan should be followed 5 for every method which
has been yet proposed is attended with manifest in¬
convenience. The powers and operations of the ma¬
chine have such a dependence upon one another, such
connexions and reciprocal influence, that they cannot
well be understood or explained separately. In this
sense our body may be compared to a circular chain
of powers, in which nothing is first or last, nothing so-
T O M Y. 185
litary or independent; so that whenever we begin, we Osteology,
find that there is something preceding which Ave ought ^
to have known. If we begin with the brain and the
nerves, for example, we shall find that these cannot ex¬
ist, even in idea, without the heart: if we set out with
the heart and vascular system, we shall presently be sen¬
sible that the brain and the nerves must be supposed : or,
should Ave take up the mouth, and folloAV the course of
the aliment, Ave should see that the very first organ
which presented itself, supposed the existence both of
the heart and brain : Wherefore we shall incorporate
the Physiology Avith the Anatomy, by attempting to
explain the functions after Ave have demonstrated the
organs.
CHAP. I. OSTEOLOGY.
WE begin with the bones, which may be consider¬
ed as the great support of the body, tending to give it
shape and firmness.—But before Ave enter into the de¬
tail of each particular bone, it will be necessary to de-
cribe their composition and connexions, and to explain
the nature of the different parts which have an imme¬
diate relation to them : as the cartilages, ligaments,
periosteum, marroAV, and synovial glands.
Sect. I. Of the Bones in general) •with their Ap¬
pendages) &c.
1 v
)f the com- The bones are of a firm and hard (b) substance,
position of 0f a white colour, and perfectly insensible. They are
e bones, j.jie most compact and solid parts of the body, and
serve for the attachment or support of all the other
parts.
Three different substances are usually distinguished
in them ; their exterior or bony part, properly so call¬
ed j their spongy cells j and their reticular substance.
The first of these is formed of many laminae or plates,
composing a firm hard substance.—The spongy or cel¬
lular part is so called on account of its resemblance to
a sponge, from the little cells which compose it. This
substance forms almost the Avhole of the extremities of
cylindrical bones. The reticular part is composed of
fibres, which cross each other in different directions.
This net-work forms the internal surface of those bones
which have cavities.
The flat bones, as those of the head, are composed
only of the laminae and the cellular substance. This
last is usually found in the middle of the bone, dividing
it into Iavo plates, and is there called dipl'de.
Gagliardi, who pretended to have discovered an in¬
finite number of claviculi (c) or bony processes, which
he describes as traversing the laminae to unite them to¬
gether, has endeavoured to support this pretended dis¬
covery by the analogy of bones to the bark of trees, in
which certain woody nails have been remarked j but
this opinion seems to be altogether fanciful.
Some writers have supposed, that the bones are
formed by layers of the periosteum, Avhich gradually
ossify in the same manner as the timber is formed in
trees by the hardening of the white substance that is
found between the inner bark and the wood. M. l)u-
hamel, who has adopted this opinion, fed different
animals with madder and their ordinary food alternate¬
ly during a certain time 5 and he asserts, that in dis¬
secting their bones, he constantly observed distinct lay¬
ers of red and white, which corresponded with the
length of time they had lived on madder or their usual
aliment. But it has since been proved by Detleff,
that M. Duhamel’s experiments were inaccurate, and
that neither the periosteum nor the cartilages are tin¬
ged by the use of madder, Avhich is known to affect the
bones only.
We usually consider in a bone, its body and its ex¬
tremities. The ancients gave the name of diaphysis
to the body or middle part, and divided the extremi¬
ties into apophysis and epiphysis. An apophysis, or
process, as it is more commonly called, is an eminence
continued from the body of the bone, whereas an epi¬
physis is at first a sort of an appendage to the bone
by means of an intermediate cartilage. Many epiphyses,
which appear as distinct bones in the foetus, afterwards
become apophyses $ for they are at length so complete¬
ly united to the body of the bone as not to be distin¬
guishable from it in the adult state. It is not unusual,
hoAvever, at the age of 18 and even 20 years, to find
the extremities of bones still in the state of epiphyses.
The names given to the processes of bones are ex¬
pressive of their shape, sixe, or use 5 thus if a process is
large and of a spherical form, it is called caput or head ;
if the head is flatted, it is termed condyle. Some pro¬
cesses, from their resemblance to a stiletto, a breast, or
the beak of a crow, are called styloid, mastoid or cora¬
coid ; others are styled ridges or spines. The two pro¬
cesses of the os femoris derive their name trochanters
from their use.
A bone has its cavities as well as processes. These
cavities
(b) Mr Scheele discovered that bones contain the phosphoric acid united with calcareous earth j and that to
this combination they owe their firmness.
(c) In his Anat. ossium nov. invent, illustrat. he describes four kinds of these claviculi or nails, vi%. the per-
11/1 l/t I I 1 m 1 J _ J 1   1
pendicular, oblique, headed, and crooked
Vol. II. Part I.
A a
t
186
Osteology, cavities eitlier extend quite through its substance, or
*- t—appear only as depressions. The former are calledyo-
ramina or holes, and these foramina are sometimes term¬
ed canals or conduits, according to their form and ex¬
tent. Of the depressions, some are useful in articula¬
tion. These are called cotyloid when they are deep,
as is the case with the os innominatum, where it re¬
ceives the head of the os femoris ; or glenoid when they
are superficial, as in the scapula, where it receives the
os humeri. Of the depressions that are not designed
for articulation, those which have small apertures are
called sinuses ; others that are large, and not equally
surrounded by high brims, are styled fossce; such as are
long and narrow, furrows; or if broad and superfi¬
cial without brims, sinuosities. Some are called digital
impressions, from their resemblance to the traces of a
finger on soft bodies.
Connexion abridge this article, which is exceedingly
of the diffuse in the generality of anatomical books, and will
hones. endeavour to describe it with all the clearness it will
allow.
The bones composing the skeleton are so constructed,
that the end of every bone is perfectly adapted to the
extremity of that with which it is connected, and this
connexion forms what is called their articulation.
Articulation is divided into diarthrosis, synarthrosis,
and amphiarthrosis, or moveable, immoveable, and mix¬
ed articulation. Each of the two first has its subdivi¬
sions. Thus the diarthrosis, or moveable articulation,
includes, I. The enarthrosis, as it is called, when a large
head is admitted into a deep cavity, as in the articula¬
tion of the os femoris with the os innominatum.
2. Arthrodia, when a round head is articulated with
a superficial cavity, as is the case of the os humeri and
scapula. 3. Ginglimus, or hinge-like articulation, as
in the connexion of the thigh-bone with the tibia.
The enarthrosis and arthrodia allow of motion to all
sides ; the ginglimus only of flexion and extension.
The synarthrosis, or immoveable articulation, in¬
cludes, 1. The suture, when the two bones are indent¬
ed into each other, as is the case with the parietal
bones. 2. Gomphosis, when one bone is fixed into
another, in the manner the teeth are placed in their
sockets.
The term amphiarthrosis is applied to those articula¬
tions which partake both of the synarthrosis and diar¬
throsis, as is the case with the bones of the vertebrae,
which are capable of motion in a certain degree, al¬
though they are firmly connected together by interme¬
diate cartilages.
What is called symphysis is the union of two bones
into one j as in the lower jaw, for instance, which in
the foetus consists of two distinct bones, but becomes
one in a more advanced age, by the ossification of the
uniting cartilage.
When bones are thus joined by the means of car ¬
tilages, the onion is styled synchondrosis ; when by li-
2 gaments, syneurosis.
Of the car- Cartilages are white, solid, smooth, and elastic sub-
tilages. stances, between the hardness of bones and ligaments,
and seemingly of a fibrous texture. We are not able
to trace any vessels into their substance by injection,
nor are they ever found tinged in animals that have
been fed with madder.
They may be distinguished into, 1st, Those which
3.
Part I.
are connected with the hones $ and 2diy, Those which Osteology,
belong to other parts of the body. The first serve —v—j
either to cover the ends and cavities of bones intended
for motion, as in the articulations, where by their
smoothness they facilitate motions, which the bones
alone could not execute with so much freedom j or,
they serve to unite bones together, as in the symphy¬
sis pubis, or to lengthen them as in the ribs.
Many of them ossifying as we advance in life, their
number is less in the adult than in the foetus, and of
course there are fewer bones in the old than in the
young subject.
Of the second class of cartilages, or those belong¬
ing to the soft parts, we have instances in the larynx,
where we find them useful in the formation of the
voice, and for the attachment of muscles. ^
The periosteum is a fine membrane of a compact cel - Of the pe-
lular texture, reflected from one joint to another, and riosteum.
serving as a common covering to the bones. It has
sanguiferous and lymphatic vessels, and is supplied with
nerves from the neighbouring parts. It adheres very
firmly to their surface, and by its smoothness facilitates
the motion of muscles. It likewise supports the ves¬
sels that go to be distributed through the substance of
the bones, and may serve to strengthen the articula¬
tions. At the extremities of bones, where it is found
covering a cartilage, it has hy some been improperly
considered as a distinct membrane, and named peri¬
chondrium. This, in its use and structure, resembles
the periosteum. Where it covers the bones of the
skull, it has gotten the name oipericranium.
The periosteum is nut a production of the dura ma¬
ter, as the ancients, and after them Havers, imagined j
nor are the hones formed by the ossification of this
membrane, at least when it is in a sound state, as
some late writers have supposed.
The periosteum is deficient in the teeth above the
sockets, and in those parts of bones to which ligaments
or tendons are attached. - *
The marrow is a fat oily substance, filling the cavi- Of the
ties of bones. In the great cavities of long bones it marrow,
is of a much firmer consistence than in the cells of
their spongy part. In the former it inclines somewhat
to a yellowish tinge, and is of the consistence of fat j
in the latter it is more fluid, and of a red colour.
This difference in colour and consistence is owing to
accidental causes j both kinds are of the same nature,
and may both be described under the common name of
marrow, though some writers give this name only to
the fat-like substance, and call the other the medullary
juice.
The marrow is contained in a very fine and transpa¬
rent membrane, which is supplied with a great num¬
ber of blood vessels, chiefly from the periosteum. This
membrana medullaris adheres to the inner surface of
the bones, and furnishes an infinite number of minute
bags or vesicles for enclosing the marrow, which is like¬
wise supported in the cavities of the bones by the long
filaments of their reticular substance.
Besides the vessels from the periosteum, the mem¬
brana medullaris is furnished with others, which in the
long bones may be seen passing in near the extremities
of the bone, and sending off numerous branches that
ramify through all the vesicles of this membrane.
The bones, and the cells containing the marrow,
are
ANATOMY.
"hap. I. A N A T
t 0i0£ry are likewise furnished with lymphatics. By their means,
8 e°0-b j the marrow, like the fat, may be taken iip in a greater
quantity than it is secreted : and hence it is that so lit¬
tle is found in the bones of those who die of lingering
diseases.
It is still a matter of controversy, Whether the mar¬
row is sensible or not ? We are certainly not able to
trace any nerves to it 5 and from this circumstance, and
its analogy to fat, Haller has ventured to consider it as
insensible. On the other hand, Duverney asserts, that
an injury done to this substance in a living animal was
attended with great pain. In this dispute physiologists
do not seem to have sufficiently discriminated between
the marrow itself and the membranous cells in which it
is contained. The former, like the fat, being nothing
more than a secreted, and of course an inorganized mat¬
ter, may, with propriety, be ranked among the insen¬
sible parts, as much as inspissated mucus or any other
secreted matter in the body $ whereas the membrana
medullaris being vascular, though it possesses but an ob¬
scure degree of feeling in a sound state, is not perfectly
insensible.
The marrow was formerly supposed to be intended
for the nourishment and renewal of the bones j but
this doctrine is now pretty generally and deservedly
exploded. It seems probable that the marrow is to
the bones what fat is to the soft parts. They both
serve for some important purposes in the animal eco¬
nomy ; but their particular use has never yet been
clearly ascertained. The marrow, from the transuda¬
tion of the oil through the bones of a skeleton, is sup¬
posed to diminish their brittleness j and Havers, who
has written professedly on the bones, describes the ca¬
nals by which the marrow is conveyed through every
part of their substance, and divides them into longi¬
tudinal and transverse ones. He speaks of the first
as extending through the whole length of the bone ;
and of the latter, as the passages by which the longi¬
tudinal ones communicate with each other. The simi¬
larity of these to the large cancelli in burnt bones, and
the transudation of the oil through the bones of the
skeleton, seems to prove that some such passages do ac¬
tually exist.
The synovial glands are small bodies (d), supposed
to be of a glandular structure, and exceedingly vascu¬
lar, secreting a fluid of a clear mucilaginous nature,
which serves to lubricate the joints. They are placed
in small cavities in the articulations, so as to be capa¬
ble of being gently compressed by the motion of the
joint, which expresses their juice in proportion to the
degree of friction. When the synovia is wanting, or is
of too thick a consistence, the joint becomes stifl' and
incapable of flexion or extension. This is what is term¬
ed anchylosis.
Ligaments are white, glistening, inelastic bands, of
a compact substance, more or less broad or thick, and
serving to connect the bones together. They are dis¬
tinguished by different names adapted to their different
forms and uses. Those of the joints are called either
6
rnovial
ands.
. 7
the liga-
O M Y. 187
round or bursal. The round ligaments are white, ten- Osteology.
dinous and inelastic. They are strong and flexible, and   '
are found only in the joint of the knee, and in the ar¬
ticulation of the os femoris with the os innominatum.
The bursal or capsular ligaments surround the whole
joint like a pui’se, and are to be found in the articula¬
tions which allow motion every way, as in the articula¬
tion of the arm with the scapula. 8
Of those sacs called Bursce Mucosas, a few were Of the bnr-
known to former anatomists, but by much the greatersse
number have been since discovered by Dr Monro (e),
who observes, that they are to be met with in the ex¬
tremities of the body only 5 that many of them are placed
entirely on the inner sides of the tendons, between these
and the bones. Many others cover not only the inner,
but the outer sides of the tendons, or are interposed be¬
tween the tendons and external parts, as well as between
those and the bones.
Some are situated between the tendons and external
parts only or chiefly, some between contiguous tendons,
or between the tendons or the ligaments and the joints.
A few such sacs are observed where the processes ot
bones play upon the ligaments, or where one bone plays
upon another. Where two or more tendons are conti¬
guous, and afterwards separate from each other, w'e
generally find a common bursa divided into branches
with which it communicates $ and a few bursae of con¬
tiguous tendons communicate with each other.-—Some,
in healthy children, communicate with the cavities ot
the joints j and in many old people he has seen such
communication formed by use or worn by friction, in¬
dependent of disease.
Their proper membrane is thin and transparent, but
very dense, and capable of confining air or any other
fluid. It is joined to the neighbouring parts by the
common cellular substance. Between the bursa and the
hard substance of bone a thin layer of cartilage or of
tough membrane is very generally interposed. To the
cellular substance on the outside of the bursa, the adi¬
pose substance is connected: except where the bursa
covers a tendon, cartilage, or bone, much exposed to
pressure or friction.
In several places a mass of fat, covered with the con¬
tinuation of the membrane of the bursa, projects into its
cavity. The edges of this are divided into fringes.
The inner side of the membrane is smooth, and is
extremely slippery from the liquor secreted in it. ?
The structure of the bursae bears a strong resemblance Their struo
to the capsular ligaments of the joints. I. The inner ture‘;on}“
layer of the ligament, like that of the bursae, is thin of'the
and dense. 2. It is connected to the external bgnments £apSy|a^
by the common cellular substance. 3. Between it andgamentsof
the bones, layers cf cartilage, or the articular carti-the joints,
lages, are interposed. 4. At the sides of the joints,
where it is not subject to violent pressure and friction,
the adipose substance is connected with the cellular
membrane. 5. Within the cavities of the joints we
observe masses of fat projecting, covered with similar
blood-vessels, and with similar fimbriae hanging from
A a 2 their
(d) It is now much doubted, however, whether the appearances in the joints, which are usually called glands,
are any thing more than assemblages of fat.
(e) See Description of the Bursce Mucosa, &c»
i88 ANA'
Osteology, their edges. 6. In the knee the upper part of such a
^—v~-—: mass of fat forms what has been called the mucilagi¬
nous gla7id of the joint, and the under part projects in-
*to the bursa behind the ligament which ties the patel¬
la to the tibia. 7. The liquor which lubricates the
bursae has the same colour, consistence, and properties,
as that of the joints, and both are affected in the same
manner by heat, mineral acids, and ardent spirits. 8. In
some places the bursae constantly communicate with the
cavities of the joints, in others they generally do so $
from which we may infer a sameness of structux-e.
When we examine the fimbriae common to the fatty
bodies of the joints and bursae, and which have been
supposed to be the ducts of glands lodged within the
masses of fat, we are not able to discover any glandular
appearance within them. And although we observe
many vessels dispersed upon the membranes of the fatty
bodies and fimbriae ; and that we cannot doubt that
< these fimbriae consist of ducts which contain a lubri¬
cating liquor, and can even press such a liquor from
them ; yet their cavities and orifices are so minute,
that they are not discoverable even by the assistance of
magnifying glasses. These fimbriae, appear, therefore,
to be ducts like those of the urethra, which prepare a
mucilaginous liquor without the assistance of any knot¬
ty or glandular organ.
Upon the whole, the synovia seems to be furnished
by invisible exhalent arteries, by the ducts of the fim¬
briae, and by oil exuding from the adipose follicles by
IO passages not yet discovered.
Of the ske- The word skeleton, which by its etymology implies
leton. simply a dry preparation, is usually applied to an assem¬
blage of all the bones of an animal united together in
their natural order. It is said to be a natural skeleton,
when the bones are connected together by their own
proper ligaments $ and an artificial one, when they are
joined by any other substance, as wire, &c.
The skeleton is generally divided into the head, trunk,
and extremities. The first division includes the bones
of the cranium and face. The bones of the trunk are
the spine, ribs, sternum, and bones of the pelvis.
The upper extremity on each side consists of the two
bones of the shoulder, viz. the scapula and clavicle ; the
bone of the arm or os humeri \ the bones of the fore¬
arm, and those of the hand.
The lower extremity on each side of the trunk con¬
sists of the thigh-bone and the bones of the leg and
foot.
Sect. II. Of the Bones of the Head.
The head is of a roundish figure, and somewhat
oval (f). . Its greatest diameter is from the forehead
to the occiput; its upper part is called vertex, or crown
of the head j its anterior or fore-part the face j and
the upper part of this, sinciput, or forehead ; its sides
’ o M Y. Parti
the temples ; its posterior, or hind part, the occiput; Osteology
and its inferior part the basis. —y—.
The bones of the head may be divided into those of
the cranium and face.
§ 1. Bones of the Cranium and Face.
Thei’e are eight bones of the cranium, viz. the coro¬
nal bone or os frontis ; the two parietal bones or ossa
bregmatis ; the os occipitis $ the two temporal bones ;
the sphenoid bone j and the os ethmoides or cribriforme.
Of these, only the os occipitis and ossa bregmatis
are considered as proper to the cranium; the rest being
common both to the cranium and face.
These bones are all harder at their surface than in
their middle : and on this account they are divided
into two tables, and a middle spongy substance called
diplde.
In this, as in all the other bones, we shall consider its of the os
figure, structure, processes, depressions, and cavities ; frontis.
and the manner in which it is articulated with the other
bones.
The os frontis has some resemblance in shape to the
shell of the cockle. Externally it is convex, its con¬
cave side being turned towards the brain. This bone,
in the places where it is united to the temporal bones,
is very thin, and has there no diploe. It is likewise
exceedingly thin in that part of the orbit of the eye
which is nearest to the nose. Hence it is, that a wound
in the eye, by a sword, or any other pointed instrument,
is sometimes productive of immediate death. In these
cases, the sword passing through the weak part of the
bone, penetrates the brain, and divides the nerves at
their origin j or perhaps opens some blood-vessel, the
consequences of which are soon fatal.
We observe on the exterior surface of this bone five
apophyses or processes, which are easily to be distin¬
guished. One of these is placed at the bottom and
narrowest part of the bone, and is called the nasal
process, from its supporting the upper end of the
bones of the nose. The four others are called angu¬
lar or orbitar processes. They assist to form the orbits,
which are the cavities on which the eyes are placed.
In each of these orbits there are two processes, qne at
the interior or great angle, and the other at the exte¬
rior or little angle of the orbit. They are called the
angular processes. Between these a ridge is extend¬
ed in form of an arch, and on this the eyebrows are
placed. It is called the orbitar or superciliary ridge,
and in some measure covers and defends the globe of
the eye. There is a hole in this for the passage of the
frontal vessels and nerves. This arch is interrupted
near the nose by a small pit, in which the tendon of
the musculus obliquus major of the eye is fixed. From
the under part of each superciliary ridge a thin plate
runs a considerable way backwards, and has the name
of orbitar; the external and fore part of this plate
forms
(f) The bones of the foetus being perfectly distinct, and the muscles in young persons not acting much, the
shape of the head has been supposed to depend much on the management of children when very young. Ve-
sahus, who has remarked the difterence in people of different nations, observes, for instance, that the head of
a Turk is conical, from the early use of the turban j whilst that of an Englishman is flattened by the chin-stay,
borne of the latest physiologists suppose, with good reason, that this difference is chiefly owing to certain natural
causes with winch we are as yet unacquainted.
hap. I. ANA
tcolooy. forms a sinuosity for lodging the lachrymal gland. Be-
—v-~' tween the orbitar plates there is a large discontinuation
of the bone, which is filled up by the cribriform part of
the os ethmoides.
On examining the inner surface of this bone at its
under and middle part, we observe an elevation in form
of a x-idge, which has been called the spinous process ;
it ascends for some way, dividing the bone into two
considerable fossae, in which the anterior lobes of the
brain are placed. To a narrow furrow in this ridge
is attached the extremity of the falx, as the membrane
is called, which divides the brain into two hemispheres.
The furrow becoming gradually wider, is continued to
the upper and back part of the bone. It has the falx
fixed to it, and part of the longitudinal sinus lodged
in it. Besides the two fossae, there are many depres¬
sions, which appear like digital impressions, and owe
their formation to the prominent circumvolutions of
the brain.
In the foetus, the forehead is composed of two di¬
stinct bones j so that in them the sagittal suture reaches
from the os occipitis to the nose. This bone is al¬
most everywhere composed of two tables and a diplbe.
These two tables separating from each other under
the eyes, form two cavities, one on each side of the
face, called the frontal sinuses. These sinuses are lined
with a soft membrane, called membrana pituitaria. In
these sinuses a mucus is secreted, which is constantly
passing through two small holes into the nostrils, which
it serves to moisten.
The os frontis is joined by sutures to many of the
hones of the head, viz. to the parietal, maxillary, and
temporal bones; to the os ethmoides j os sphenoides j
os unguis $ and ossa nasi. The suture which connects
it with the parietal bones is called the coronal suture.
.ftLV The parietal bones are two jn number j they are
etalbones. vei-y thin, and even transparent in some places. The
particular figure of each of these bones is that of an
irregular square, bordered with indentations through
its whole circumference, except at its lower part. It
will be easily conceived, that these bones which com¬
pose the superior and lateral parts of the cranium, and
cover the greatest part of the bi’ain, form a kind of
vault. On their inner surface we observe the marks
of the vessels of the dura mater j and at their upper
edge the groove for the superior longitudinal sinus.
The ossa parietalia are joined to each other by the
sagittal suture j to the os sphenoides and ossa temporuni
by the squamous suture ; to the/os occipitis by the
lambdoidal suture (g), so called from its resemblance
to the Greek letter lambda 5 and to the os frontis by the
coronal suture.
In the foetus, the parietal bones are separated from
the middle of the divided os frontis by a portion ol the
cranium then unossified.
The occipital bone forms the posterior and inferior
parts of the skull; it approaches nearly to the shape of
a lozenge, and is indented throughout three parts of its
circumference.
There is a considerable hole in the inferior portion
H
f the occi-
tal bone.
T O M Y.
of this bone, called the foramen magnum, through which Osteology,
the medulla oblongata passes into the spine.—The nervi v '
accessorii, and vertebral arteries, likewise pass through
it. Behind the condyles are two holes for the passage
of cervical veins into the lateral sinuses j and above
them are two others for the passage of the eighth pair
and accessory nerves out of the head. At the sides,
and a little on the anterior part of the foramen mag¬
num, are two processes, called the condyles, one on each
side •, they are of an oval figure, and are covered with
cartilage.
The external surface of this bone has a large trans¬
verse arched ridge, under which the bone is very irre¬
gular, where it affords attachment to several muscles.
Gn examining its inner surface, we may observe two
ridges in form of a cross j one ascending from near the
foramen magnum to the top of the bone j the upper
end of this, in which the falx is fixed, is hollow, for
lodging the superior longitudinal sinus j and the under
end has the third process of the dura mater fixed to it.
The other ridge, which runs horizontally, is likewise
hollow for containing the lateral sinuses. I our fossae
ai’e formed by the ci’oss, two above and two below. In
the former are placed the posterior lobes of the brain,
and in the latter the lobes of the cerebellum.
At the basis of the cranium, v/e observe the cunei¬
form process, (which is the name given to the great
apophysis at the fore part of this bone) j it serves for
the reception of the medulla oblongata.
The os occipitis is of greater strength and thickness
than either of the other bones of the head, though ir¬
regularly so } at its inferior part, where it is thinnest,
it is covered by a great number of muscles.
This bone, from its situation, being more liable to
be injured by falls than any other bone of the head,
nature has xvisely given it the greatest strength at its
upper part, where it is most exposed to danger.
It is joined to the parietal bones by the lambdoidal
suture, and to the ossa temporum by the additamen-
tum of the temporal suture. It is likewise connected
to the os sphenoides by the cuneiform process. It is
by means of the os occipitis that the head is united to
the trunk, the two condyles of this bone being connect¬
ed to the superior oblique processes of the first vertebra
of the neck. 15
There are two temporal bones, one on each side.—Of the tem=
We may distinguish in them two parts ; one of which Poral boIlos>
is called the squamous or scaly part, and other ywzrs
petrosa from its hardness. This last is shaped like a
pyramid.
Each of these divisions affords processes and cavities:
externally there are three processes ; one anterior, call¬
ed the %ygomatic process; one posterior, called the
mastoid mamillary process, from its resemblance to a
nipple j and one inferior, called the styloid process, be¬
cause it is shaped like a stiletto, or dagger.
The cavities are, 1. The meatus auditorius exter-
nus. 2. A large fossa which serves for the articulation
of the lower jaw j it is before the meatus auditorius,.,,
and immediately under the zygomatic process. 3. The
stylo-mastoid
(g) The lambdoidal suture is sometimes very .irregular, being composed of many small sutures, which surround*,.
30 many little bones called ossa triquetra, though perhaps improperly, as they are not always triangular.
igo
ANATOMY.
Part
Osteology, stylo-mastoid hole, so called from its situation between
''T——^ the styloid and mastoid processes j it is likewise styled
the aqueduct of Fallopius, and affords a passage to the
portio dura of the auditory or seventh pair of nerves.
4. Below, and on the fore part of the last foramen, we
observe part of the jugular fossa, in which the begin¬
ning of the internal jugular vein is lodged. Anterior
and superior to this fossa is the orifice of a foramen,
through which passes the carotid artery. This foramen
runs first upwards and then forwards, forming a kind of
elbow, and terminates at the end of the os petrosum.—
At this part of each temporal bone, we may observe the
opening of the Eustachian tube, a canal which passes
from the ear to the back part of the nose.
In examining the internal surface of these bones, we
may remark the triangular figure of their petrous part
which separates two fossae j one superior and anterior j
the other inferior and posterior: the latter of these
composes part of the fossa, in which the cerebellum is
placed ; and the former, a pox-tion of the least fossa for
the basis of the brain. On the posterior side of the pars
petrosa, we observe the meatus auditorius internus, into
which enters the double nerve of the seventh pair. On
the under side of this process, part of a hole appears,
which is common to the temporal and occipital bones 5
through it the lateral sinus, the eighth pair, and acces¬
sory nerves, pass out of the head.
The pars petrosa contains several little bones called
the bones of the ear j which, as they do not enter into
the formation of the cranium, shall be described when
we ax-e treating of the organs of hearing.
The ossa temporum are joined to the ossa malarum,
by the zygomatic sutures to the parietal bones by the
squamous sutures; to the os occipitis, by the lambdoi-
dal suture 5 and to the sphenoid bone, by the suture of
16 that name.
Of the os This bone, from its situation amidst the other bones
sphenoides. 0f tjie iias |,een sometimes called cuneiforme. It
is of a very irregular figure, and has been compared to
a bat with its wings extended.
It is commonly divided into its middle part or body,
and its sides or wings.
The fore part of the body has a spine or ridge, which
makes part of the septum narium. The upper pai’t of
each wing forms a share of the temple. The fore part
ot this belongs to the orbit 5 while the under and back
part, termed spinous process, is lodged in the base of
the skull at the point of the pars petrosa. But two of
the most remarkable processes are the pterygoid or ali¬
form, one on each side of the body of the bone, and
at no great distance from it. Each of these processes
is divided into two wings, and of these the exterior
one is the widest. The other terminates in a hook-like
process.
The internal surface of this bone affords three fossse.
Two of these are formed by the wings of the bone,
and make part of the lesser fossae of the basis of the
cranium. The third, which is smaller, is on the top
of the body of the bone ; and is called sella turcica,
from its resemblance to a Turkish saddle. This fossa,
in tvhich the pituitary gland is placed, has posteriorly
and anteriorly processes called the clinoidprocesses.
'I here are twelve holes in this bone, viz. six on each
side. The first is the passage of the optic nerve and
ocular artery * the second, or large slit, transmits the
third, fourth, sixth, and first part of the fifth pair of Oiteolog
nerves with the ocular vein j the third hole givesv~
passage to the second branch of the fifth pair 5 and
the fourth hole to the third branch of the fifth pair
of nerves. The fifth hole is the passage of the artery
of the dura mater. The sixth hole is situated above
the pterygoid process of the sphenoid bone : through
it a reflected branch of the second part of the fifth pair
passes.
Within the substance of the os sphenoides there are
two sinuses separated by a bony plate. They are lined
with the pituitary membrane $ and, like the frontal si¬
nuses, separate a mucus which passes into the nostrils.
The os sphenoides is joined to all the bones of the
cranium } and likewise to the ossa maxillaria, ossa ma¬
larum, ossa palati, and vomer.
This bone makes part of the basis of the skull, assists
in forming the orbits, and affords attachment to seve*
ral muscles*
The os ethmoides is situated at the fore part of the
basis of the cranium, and is of a very irregular figure.
From the great number of holes with which it is
pierced, it is sometimes called os cribriforme, or sieve¬
like bone*
It consists of a middle part and two sides. The Of the
middle part is formed of a thin bony plate, in which ethmoide
are an infinite number of holes that afford a passage toor C1*n'
filaments of the olfactory nerve. From the middle 0ffoime*
this plate, both on the outside, and from within, there
rises up a process, which may be easily distinguished.
The inner one is called crista galli, from its supposed
resemblance to a cock’s comb. To this process the
falx of the dura mater is attached. The exterior pro¬
cess, which has the same common basis as the crista
galli, is a fine lamella which is united to the vomer j
and divides the cavity of the nostrils, though unequally,
it being generally a little inclined to one side.
The lateral parts of this bone are composed of a
cellular substance ; and these cells are so very intri¬
cate, that their figure or number cannot be described.
Many writers have on this account called this part of
the bone the labyrinth. These cells are externally
covered with a very thin bony lamella. This part of
the bone is called the os planum, and forms part of the
orbit.
The different cells of this bone, which are nume¬
rous, and which are everywhere lined with the pitui¬
tary membrane, evidently serve to enlarge the cavity
of the nose, in which the organ of smelling resides.
This bone is joined to the os sphenoides, os frontis,
ossa maxillaria, ossa palati, ossa nasi, ossa unguis, and
vomer.
The ancients, who considered the brain as the seat
of all the humours, imagined that this viscus dischar¬
ged its redundant moisture through the holes of the
ethmoid bone. And the vulgar still think, that ab¬
scesses of the brain discharge themselves through the
mouth and ears, and that snuff is liable to get into the
head; but neither snuff nor the matter of an abscess
are more capable of passing through the cribriform
bone, than the sex-osity which they supposed was dis¬
charged through it in a common cold. All the holes
of the ethmoid bone are filled up with the branches of
the olfactory nerve. Its inner part is likewise covered
with the dura mater, and its cells are everywhere lined
with
(iap I. A N A T
< eology. with the pituitary membrane *, so that neither matter
* -y—' nor any other fluid can possibly pass through this bone
either externally or internally. Matter is indeed some¬
times discharged through the nostrils j but the seat of
the disease is in the sinuses of the nose, and not in the
brain; and imposthumations are observed to take place
in the ear, which suppurate and discharge themselves
externally.
Before we leave the bones of the head, we wish to
make some general observations on its structure and fi¬
gure. As the cranium might have been composed of
a single bone, the articulation of its several bones
being absolutely without motion, it may be asked per¬
haps, Why such a multiplicity of bones, and so great
a number of sutures ? Many advantages may possibly
arise from this plurality of bones and sutures, which
may not yet have been observed. We are able, how¬
ever, to point out many useful ends, which could only
be accomplished by this peculiarity of structure. In
this, as in all the other works of nature, the great wis¬
dom of the Creator is evinced, and cannot fail to ex¬
cite our admiration and gratitude.
The cranium, by being divided into several bones,
grows much faster and with greater facility, than if it
was composed of one piece only. In the foetus, the
bones, as we have before observed, are perfectly distinct
from each other. The ossification begins in the middle
of each bone, and proceeds gradually to the circumfe¬
rence. Hence the ossification, and of course the in¬
crease of the head, is carried on from an infinite num¬
ber of points at the same time, and the bones conse¬
quently approach each other in the same proportion.
To illustrate this doctrine more clearly, if it can want
further illustration, suppose it necessary for the parietal
bones which compose the upper part of the head, to
extend their ossification, and form the fore part of the
head likewise.—Is it not evident, that this process
would be much more tedious than it is now, when the
os frontis and the parietal bones are both growing at
the same time ? Hence it happens, that the heads of
young people, in which the bones begin to touch each
other, increase slowly ; and that the proportionate in¬
crease of the volume of the head is greater in three
months in the foetus, than it is perhaps in twenty-four
months at the age of fourteen or fifteen years.
The sutures, exclusive of their advantages in su¬
spending the processes of the dura mater, are evidently
of great utility in preventing the too great extent of
fractures of the skull.—Suppose, for instance, that by
a fall or blow, one of the bones of the cranium be¬
comes fractured. The fissure, which in a head com¬
posed of only one bone, would be liable to extend it¬
self through the whole of it, is checked and sometimes
perhaps stopped by the first suture it meets, and the
effects of the injury are confined to the bone on which
the blow was received. Ituysch indeed, and some others,
will not allow the sutures to be of any such use ; but
cases have been met with where they seemed to have
had this effect, and in young subjects their utility in
this respect must be still more obvious.
The spherical shape of the head seems likewise to
render it more capable of resisting external violence
than any other shape would do. In a vault, the parts
mutually support and strengthen each other, and this
happens in the cranium.
O M Y. 191
§ 2. Proper Bones of the Face. CMecio^y..
The face, which consists of a great number of bones, lS
is commonly divided into the upper and lower jaws,P!ngSeof
The upper jaw consists ot thirteen bones, exclusive of |.jie facei
the teeth. Of these, six are placed on each side of
the maxilla superior, and one in the middle.
The bones, which are in pairs, are the ossa mala-
rum, ossa maxillaria, ossa nasi, ossa unguis, ossa palati,
and ossa spongiosa inferiora. The single bone is the
vomer. ^
These are the prominent square bones which are of tfje ossa
placed under the eyes, forming parts of the orbits and malarum.
the upper part of the cheeks. Each of them affords
three surfaces : one exterior and a little convex ; a se¬
cond superior and concave, forming the inferior part
and sides of the orbit; and a third posterior, irregular,
and hollowed for the lodgment of the lower part of the
temporal muscle.
The angles of each bone form four processes, two
of which may be called orbitar processes: of these the
upper one is joined by suture to the os frontis, and
that below to the maxillary bone. The third is con¬
nected with the os sphenoides by means of the trans¬
verse suture ; and the fourth is joined to the zygoma¬
tic process of the temporal bone, with which it forms
the zygoma. JO
These bones, which are of a very irregular figure, of the ossr.
are so called because they form the most considerable maxillaria
portion of the upper jaw. They are two in number, suPenom*
and generally remain distinct through life.
Of the many processes which are to be seen on these
bones, and which are connected with the bones of the
face and skull, we shall describe only the most remark¬
able.
One of these processes is at the upper and fore part
of the bone, making part of the side of the nose, and
called the nasal process. Another forms a kind of cir¬
cular sweep at the inferior part of the bone, in which
are the alveoli or sockets for the teeth : this is called
the alveolar process. A third process is united to the
os malae on each side. Between this and the nasal pro¬
cess there is a thin plate, which forms a share of the
orbit, and lies over a passage for the superior maxillary
vessels and nerves.—The alveolar process has posterior¬
ly a considerable tuberosity on its internal surface, call¬
ed the maxillary tuberosity.
Behind the alveolar process we observe two hori¬
zontal lamellae, which uniting together, form part of
the roof of the mouth, and divide it from the nose.
The hollowness of the roof of the mouth is owing to
this partition’s being seated somewhat higher than the
alveolar process.—At the fore part of the horizontal
lamellae there is a hole called foramen incisivum,
through which small blood vessels and nerves go be¬
tween the mouth and nose.
In viewing these bones internally, we observe a fossa
in the inferior portion of the nasal process, which, with
the os unguis and os spongiosum inferius, forms a pas¬
sage for the lachrymal duct.
Where these two bones are united to each other,
they project somewhat upwards and forwards, leaving
between them a furrow, into which the lower portion of
the septum nasi is admitted.
Each of these bones being hollow,r a considerable si-
nus^
'r92 ' A N A T
Osteology, nus Is formed under its orbitar part. This cavity,
1 v— ' 1 ivhicli Is usually named after Highmore, though it was
described by Fallopius and others before his time, is
lined with the pituitary membrane. It is intended for
the same purposes as the other sinuses of the nose, and
opens into the nostrils.
The ossa maxillaria are connected with the greater
part of the bones of the face and cranium, and assist in
forming not only the cheeks, but likewise the palate,
nose, and orbits.
Of the ossa ^ie ossa nas‘ ^orm *;wo ^rregu^ar squares. They are
uijsi thicker and narrower above than below. Externally
they are somewhat convex, and internally slightly con¬
cave. These bones constitute the upper part of the
nose. At their fore part they are united to each other,
above to the os frontis, by their sides to the ossa maxil¬
laria superiora, posteriorly and interiorly to the septum
narium, and below to die cartilages that compose the
42 rest of the nostrils.
Of the ossa These little transparent bones owe their name to
unguis. their supposed resemblance to a finger nail. Sometimes
they are called ossa lachrymalia, from their concurring
with the nasal process of each maxillary bone in form¬
ing a lodgment for the lachrymal sac and duct.
The ossa unguis are of an irregular figure. Their
external surface consists of two smooth parts, divided
by a middle ridge. One of these parts, which is con¬
cave and nearest to the nose, serves to support the la¬
chrymal sac and part of the lachrymal duct. The
,, other, which is flat, forms a small part of the orbit.
Of the o&sa Each of these bones is connected with the os fron-
palati. tis, os ethmoides, and os maxillare superius.
These bones, which are situated at the back part of
the roof of the mouth, between the os sphenoides and
the ossa maxillaria superiora, are of a very irregular
shape, and serve to form the nasal and maxillary fossa,
and a small portion of the orbit. Where they are unit¬
ed to each other, they rise up into a spine on their in¬
ternal surface. This spine appears to be a continua¬
tion of that of the superior maxillary bones, and helps
to form the septum narium.
These bones are joined to the ossa maxillaria supe¬
riora, os ethmoides, os sphenoides, and vomer.
This bone derives its name from its resemblance to
a ploughshare. It is a long and flat bone, somewhat
thicker at its back than at its fore part. At its upper
part we observe a furrow extending through its whole
length. The posterior and largest part of this furrow
receives a process of the sphenoid bone. From this
the furrow advances forwards, and becoming narrower
and shallower, receives some part of the nasal lamella
ethmoidea: the rest serves to support the middle car¬
tilage of the nose.
The inferior portion of this bone is placed on the
nasal spine of the maxillary and palate bones, which
we mentioned in our description of the ossa palati.
The vomer is united to the os sphenoides, os eth¬
moides, ossa maxillaria superiora, and ossa palati. It
forms part of the septum narium, by dividing the back
part of the nose into two nostrils,
tie oisa ^ie Par^s which are usually described by this name,
' do not seem to deserve to be distinguished as distinct
iafcribra. hones, except in young subjects. 1 hey consist of a
spongy lamella in each nostril, which is united to the
O M Y.
Parti
24
Of the vo-
25
spongy lamina of the ethmoid bone, of which they are Osteo!
by some considered as a part.
Each of these lamellae is longest from behind for¬
wards ; with its convex surface turned towards the sep¬
tum narium, and its concave part towards the maxil¬
lary bone, covering the opening of the lachrymal duct
into the nose.
These bones are covered with the pituitary mem¬
brane ; and besides their connexion with the ethmoid
bone, are joined to the ossa maxillaria superiora, ossa
palati, and ossa unguis.
The maxilla inferior, or lower jaw, which in its shape Of the mai
resembles ahorse shoe, consists of two distinct bones >ha inferi-
in the foetus} but these unite together soon afterbirth,01-*
so as to form only one bone. The upper edge of this
bone, like the os maxillare superius, has an alveolar
process, furnished with sockets for the teeth.
On each side the posterior part of the bone rises al¬
most perpendicularly into two processes. The highest
of these, called the coronoid process, is pointed and
thin, and serves for the insertion of the temporal mus¬
cle. The other, or condyloid process, as it ia called,
is shorter and thicker, and ends in an oblong rounded
head, which is received into a fossa of the temporal
bone, and is formed for a moveable articulation with
the cranium. This joint is furnished with a moveable
cartilage. At the bottom of each coronoid process,
on its inner part, we observe a foramen extending un¬
der the roots of all the teeth, and terminating at the
outer surface of the bone near the chin. Each of these
canals transmits an artery, vein, and nerve, from which
branches are sent oft’ to the teeth.
The lower jaw is capable of a great variety of mo¬
tion. By sliding the condyles from the cavity towards
the eminences on each side, we bring it horizontally
forwards, as in biting ; or we may bring the condyles
only forward, and tilt the rest of the jaw backward,
as in opening the mouth. We are likewise able to
slide the condyles alternately backwards and forwards
from the cavity to the eminence, and vice versa, as in
grinding the teeth. The cartilages, by adapting them¬
selves to the different inequalities in these several mo¬
tions of the jaw, serve to secure the articulation, and
to prevent any injuries from friction.
The alveolar processes are composed of an outer and
inner bony plate, united together by thin partitions,
which at the fore part of the jaw divide the processes
into as many sockets as there are teeth. But at the
back part of the jaw*, where the teeth have more than
one root, we find a distinct cell for each root. In both
jaws these processes begin to be formed with the teeth }
they likewise accompany them in their growth, and
gradually disappear when the teeth are removed.
§ 3. Of the Teeth.
The teeth are bones of a particular structure, form- *7
ed for the purposes of mastication and the articulation
of the voice. It will be necessary to consider their
composition and figure, their number and arrangement,
and the time and order in which they appear.
In each tooth we may distinguish a body, a neck,
and a root or fangs.
The body of the toeth is that part which appears
above
Chap. I.
ANA
Osteolog). above the gums. The root is fixed into the socket,
——and the neck is the middle part between the two.
The teeth are composed of two substances, viz. ena¬
mel and bone. The enamel, or the vitreous or corti¬
cal part of the tooth, is a white and very hard and
compact substance peculiar to the teeth, and appears
fibrous or striated when broken. This substance is
thickest on the grinding surface, and becoming gradu¬
ally thinner, terminates insensibly at the neck of the
Thesaur. tooth. Ruysch * affirmed, that he could trace the ar-
* *ei*eS ^nt<) t^ie ^ar^est Part °f the teeth; Leeuwen-
Votwr. cure-h°ek f suspected the fibres of the enamel to be so
inuat, Epi- mauy vessels; and Monro J says, he has frequently in-
•M. jected the vessels of the teeth in children, so as to make
temirmn ^ ^ns^e the cortex appear perfectly red. But it
Bones. 1 certain, that it is not tinged by a madder diet, and
Hrerefffl-ore that no injection will ever reach it, so that it has no ap-
/« Teeth, pearance of being vascular ]|.
The bony part, which composes the inner substance
of the body, neck, and root of the tooth, resembles
other bones in its structure, but it is much harder than
the most compact part of bones in general. As a
tooth when once formed receives no tinge from a mad¬
der diet, and as the minutest injections do not pene¬
trate into its substance, this part of a tooth has, like
the enamel, been Supposed not to be vascular. But
when we consider that the fangs of a tooth are invest¬
ed by a periosteum, and that the swellings of these fangs
are analogous to the swellings of other bones, we may
reasonably conclude, that there is a similarity of struc¬
ture ; and that this bony part has a circulation through
its substance ; although from its hardness we are unable
to demonstrate its vessels.
In each tooth we find an inner cavity, into which
enter an artery, vein, and nerve. This cavity begins
by a small opening, and becoming larger, terminates
in the body of the tooth. In advanced life this hole
sometimes closes, and the tooth is of course rendered
insensible.
The periosteum surrounds the teeth from their fangs
to a little beyond their bony sockets, where we find it
adhering to the gums. This membrane, while it en¬
closes the teeth, serves at the same time to line the
sockets ; so that it may be considered as common to
both.
The teeth are likewise secured in their sockets by
means of the gums ; a red, vascular, firm, and elastic
substance, that possesses but little sensibility. In the
gums of infants we find a hard ridge extending through
their whole length, but no such ridge is to be seen in
old people who have lost their teeth.
The number of the teeth in both jaws at full matu¬
rity, usually varies from twenty-eight to thirty-two.
They are commonly divided into three classes, viz. in-
cisores, canini, and grinders or molares (h). The in¬
i' O M Y.
cisores are the four teeth in the fore part of each jaw.
They have each of them two surfaces ; one anterior and
convex, the other posterior and slightly concave, both
of which terminate in a sharp edge. They are called
incisores from their use in dividing the food. They
are usually broader and thicker in the upper than in the
under jaw; and, by being placed somewhat obliquely,
generally fall over the latter.
The canini derive their name from the resemblance
to a dog’s tusks, being the longest of all the teeth.
We find one on each side of the incisores, so that there
are two canini in each jaw. Their fang resembles that
of the incisores, but is much larger ; and in their shape
they appear like an incisor with its edge worn oil, so
as to terminate in a narrow point.
_ These teeth not being calculated for cutting and di¬
viding the food like the incisores, or for grinding it
like the molares, seem to be intended for laying hold
of substances (l).
The molares or grinders, of which there are ten in
each jaw, are so called, because from their shape and
size they are fitted for grinding the food. Each of
the incisores and canini is furnished only with one
fang ; but in the molares of the under jaw we constant¬
ly find two fangs, and in those of the upper jaw three
fangs. These fangs are sometimes separated into two
points, and each ot these points has sometimes been de¬
scribed as a distinct fang.
I he two first of the molares, or those nearest to the
canine teeth on each side, differ from the other three,
and are with great propriety named bicuspides by Mr
Hunter. They have sometimes only one root, and
seem to be of a middle nature between the incisores
and the larger molares. The two next are much larger.
The fifth or last grinder on each side is smaller and
shorter than the rest; and from its not cutting the gum
till after the age of twenty, and sometimes not till much
later in life, it is called dens sapientice.
There is in the structure and arrangement of all
these teeth an art which cannot be sufficiently admired.
To understand it properly, it will be necessary to con¬
sider the under jaw as a kind of lever, with its fixed
points at its articulations with the temporal bones : it
will be right to observe, too, that its powers arise from
its different muscles, but in elevations chiefly from the
temporalis and masseter; and that the aliment consti¬
tutes the object of resistance. It will appear, then,
that the molares, by being placed nearest the centre of
motion, are calculated to press with a much greater
force than the other teeth, independent of the grinding
powers which they possess by means of the pterygoid
muscles; and that it is for this reason we put between
them any hard body we wish to break.
The canini and incisores are placed farther from this
point, and of course cannot exert so much force; but
they
193
Osteology.
(h) Mr Hunter has thought proper to vary this division. He retains the old name of incisores to the four
fore teeth, but he distinguishes the canine teeth by the name of the cuspidati. The two teeth which are next
to these, and which have been usually ranked with the molares, hetalls the bicuspides; and he gives the name of
Qi grinders only to the three last teeth on each side.
(!) Mr Hunter remarks of these teeth, that we may trace in fliem a similarity in shape, situation, and use,
from the most imperfectly carnivorous animal, which we believe to be the human species^ to the lion, which is
the most perfectly carnivorous.
Vol. II. Part I.
f
Bb
ANATOMY. Part I.
they are made for cutting and tearing the food, and
this form seems to make amends for their deficiency m
strength.
There are examples of children who have come into
the world with two, three, and even four teeth : but
these examples are very rare j and it is seldom before
the seventh, eighth, or ninth month alter birth, that
the incisores, which are the first formed, begin to pass
through the gum* The symptoms of dentition, how¬
ever, in consequence of irritation from the teeth, fre¬
quently take place in the fourth or fifth month. A-
bout the twentieth or twenty-fourth month, the camni
and two molares make their appearance.
The dangerous symptoms that sometimes accompany
dentition, are owing to the pressure of the teeth on the
gum, which they irritate so as to excite pain and in¬
flammation. This irritation seems to occasion a gra¬
dual wasting of the gum at the part, till at length the
tooth makes its appearance.
The symptoms are more or less alarming, in propor¬
tion to the resistance which the gum affords to the
teeth, and according to the number of teeth which
may chance to seek a passage at the same time. Were
they all to appear at once, children would fall victims
to the pain and excessive irritation $ but nature has so
very wisely disposed them, that they-usually appear
one after the other, with some distance of time be¬
tween each. The first incisor that appears is generally
in the lower jaw, and is followed by one in the up¬
per jaw. Sometimes the canini, but more commonly
one of the molares, begins to pass through the gum
first.
These 20 teeth, viz. eight incisores, four canini, and
eight molares, are called temporary or milk teeth, be¬
cause thqy are all shed between the age of seven and
14, and are succeeded by what are called the permanent
or adult teeth. The latter are of a firmer texture, and
have larger fangs.
These adult teeth being placed in a distinct set of
alveoli, the upper sockets gradually disappear, as the
under ones increase in size, till at length the tempora¬
ry or upper teeth, having no longer any support, con¬
sequently fall out.
To these 20 teeth which succeed the temporary
ones, 12 others are afterwards added, viz. three mo¬
lares on each side in both jaws: and in order to make
room for this addition, we find that the jaws gradually
lengthen in proportion to the growth of the teeth*, so
that with 20 teeth, they seem to be as completely fill¬
ed as they are afterwards with 32. This is the reason
why the face is rounder and flatter in children than in
adults.
With regard to the formation of the teeth, we may
observe, that in a foetus of four months, the alveolar
process appears only as a shallow longitudinal groove,
divided by minute ridges into a number of intermediate
depressions j in each of which we find a small pulpy
substance, surrounded by a vascular membrane. This
pulp gradually ossifies, and its lower part is lengthened Osteology,
out to form the fang. When the bony part of the -v—
tooth is formed, its surface begins to be incrusted with
the enamel. How the latter is formed and deposited,
we are not yet able to determine.
The rudiments of some of the adult teeth begin to
be formed at a very early period, for the pulp ol one of
the incisores may generally be perceived in a foetus of
eight months, and the ossification begins in it soon af¬
ter birth. The first bicuspis begins to ossify about the
fifth or sixth, and the second about the seventh year.
The first adult grinder cuts the gum about the 12th,
the second about the 18th, and the third, or dens sa-
pientice, usually between the 20th and 3°th year.
The teeth, like other bones, are liable to be afiected
by disease. Their removal is likewise the natural con¬
sequence of old age j for as we advance in life, the al¬
veoli fill up, and the teeth, especially the incisores, fall
out. When this happens, the chin projects forward,
and the face is much shortened.
§ 4. Of the Os Hyoides (k).
The os hyoides, which is placed at the root of the
tongue, was so called by the ancients on account of its
supposed resemblance to the Greek letter v.
It will be necessary to distinguish in it, its body,
horns, and appendices.
The body, which is the middle and broadest part of
the bone, is so placed that it may be easily felt at the
fore part of the throat. Anteriorly it is irregularly
convex, and its inner surface is unequally concave. Its
cornua, or horns, which are flat and a little bent, be¬
ing much longer than the body part, may be described
as forming the sides of the v. The appendices, or little
horns, as they are called by M. Winslow and some
other writers, are two processes which rise up from the
articulations of the cornua with the body, and are usu¬
ally connected with the styloid process on each side by
means of a ligament.
The uses of this bone are to support the tongue and
afford attachment to a great number of muscles j some
of which perform the motions of the tongue, while
others act on the larynx and fauces.
Sect. III. Of the Bones of the Trunk.
The trunk of the skeleton consists of the spine, the
thorax, and the pelvis.
§ I. Of the Spine.
The spine is composed of a great number of bones
called vertehree, forming a long bony column, in figure
not much unlike the letter f. This column, which ex¬
tends from the head to the lower part of the body, may
be said to consist of two irregular and unequal pyramids,
united to each other in that part of the loins where
the last lumbar vertebra joins the os sacrum.
The vertebrae of the upper and longest pyramid are
called
(k) This bone is very seldom preserved with the skeleton, and cannot be included amongst the bones of the
head or in any other division of the skeleton. Thomas Bartholin has perhaps very properly described it among
the parts contained in the mouth j but the generality of anatomical writers have placed it, as it is here, after the
bones of the face..
ANATOMY.
hap. I.
steology. calletl true vertebra, in contradistinction t© those of
—v—' the lowermost pyramid, which, from their being im¬
moveable in the adult, are styled false vertebra. It is
upon the bones of the spine that the body turns $ and it
is to this circumstance they owe their name, which is
derived from the Latin verb vertere, “ to turn.”
The true vertebrae are divided into three classes, of
cervical, dorsal, and lumbar vertebrae.—The false ver¬
tebrae consist of the os sacrum and os coccygis.
In each vertebra, as in other bones, it will be neces¬
sary to remark the body of the bone, its processes, and
cavities.
The body, which is convex before, and concave be¬
hind, where it assists in forming the cavity of the
spine, may be compared to part of a cylinder cut off
transversely.
Each vertebra affords seven processes. The first is
at the back part of the vertebra, and from its shape and
direction is named the spinous process. On each side
of this are two others, which, from their situation with
respect to the spine, are called transverse processes. The
four others are styled oblique ox articular processes. They
are much smaller than the spinous or transverse ones.
Two of them are placed on the upper, and two on the
lower part of each vertebra, rising from near the basis
of each transverse process. They have gotten the name
of oblique processes, from their situation with respect to
the processes with which they are articulated ; and they
are sometimes styled articular processes, from the man¬
ner in which they are articulated with each other j the
two superior processes of one vertebra being articulated
with the two inferior processes of the vertebra above it.
Each of these processes is covered with cartilage at its
articulation, and their articulations with each other are
by a species of ginglimus.
In each vertebra, between its body and its processes,
we find a hole large enough to admit a finger. T hese
holes are foramina, correspond with each other through
all the vertebrae, and form the long bony channel in
which the spinal marrow is placed. We may likewise
observe four notches in each vertebra. Two of these
notches are at the upper, and two at the lower part of
the bone, between the oblique processes and the body
of the vertebra. Each of these notches meeting with
a similar opening in the vertebra above or below it,
forms a foramen for the passage of blood vessels, and of
the nerves out of the spine.
The bones of the spine are united together by means
of a substance, which in young subjects appears to be
of a ligamentous, but in adults more of a cartilaginous
nature. This intervertebral substance, which forms a
kind of partition between the several vertebrae, is thicker
and more flexible between the lumbar vertebrae than in
the other parts of the spine, the most considerable mo¬
tions of the trunk being performed on those vertebrae.
This substance being very elastic, the extension and
flexion of the body, and its motion backwards and foi-
wards, or to either side, are performed with great fa¬
cility. This elasticity seems to be the reason why people
who have been long standing, or have carried a consi¬
derable weight, are found to be shorter than when they
have been long in bed. In the two first instances the
intervertebral cartilages (as they are usually called) are
evidently more exposed to compression than when \\t
are in bed in a horizontal posture.
In advanced life these cartilages become shrivelled, Osteology,
and of course lose much of their elasticity. This may —y—
serve to account for the decrease in stature and the
stooping forward which are usually to be observed in
old people.
Besides the connexion of the several vertebrae by
means of this intervertebral substance, there are like¬
wise many strong ligaments, both external and internal,
which unite the bones of the spine to each other. Their
union is also strengthened by a variety of strong muscles
that cover and surround the spine.
The bones of the spine are found to diminish in den¬
sity, and to be less firm in the texture, in proportion
as they increase in bulk $ so that the lowermost verte¬
brae, though the largest, are not so heavy in proportion
as the upper ones. By this means the size of these
bones is increased without adding to their weight; a
circumstance of no little importance in a part like the
spine, which, besides flexibility and suppleness, seems
to require lightness as one of its essential properties.
In very young children, each vertebra consists of
three bony pieces united by cartilages which afterwards
ossify.
There are seven vertebrae of the neck—they are of a yejtebi«e
firmer texture than the other bones of the spine. Their 0f the neck,
transverse processess are forked for the lodgment of
muscles, and at the bottom of each we observe a fora¬
men, through which pass the cervical artery and vein.
The first and second of these vertebrae must be describ¬
ed more particularly. The first approaches almost to
an oval shape.—On its superior surface it has two cavi¬
ties which admit the condyles of the occipital bone
with which it is articulated. This vertebra, which is
called atlas from its supporting the head, cannot well
be described as having either body or spinous process,
being a kind of bony ring. Anteriorly, where it is ar¬
ticulated to the odontoid process of the second verte¬
bra, it is very thin. On its upper surface it has two
cavities which admit the condyles of the occipital bone.
By this connexion the head is allowed to move for¬
wards and backwards, but has very little motion in any
other direction,
The second vertebra has gotten the name of dentata,
from its having, at its upper and anterior part, a pro¬
cess called the odontoid or tooth-like process, which is ar¬
ticulated with the atlas, to which this second vertebra
may be said to serve as an axis. This odontoid process
is of a cylindrical shape, somewhat flattened, however,
anteriorly and posteriorly. At its fore part where it
is received by the atlas, we may observe a smooth, con¬
vex, articulating surface. It is by means of this arti¬
culation that the head performs its rotatory motion,
the atlas in that case moving upon this odontoid pro¬
cess as upon a pivot. But when this motion is in any
considerable degree, or, in other words, when the head
moves much either to the right or left, all the cervical
vertebrae seem to assist, otherwise the spinal marrow
would be in danoer of being divided transversely by the
first vertebra. 32
The spinous process of each of the cervical vertebrae Vertebrae
is shorter, and their articular processes more oblique,01 tlieback’
than in the other bones of the spine.
These 12 vertebrae are of a middle size between those
of the neck and loins. At their sides we may observe
two depressions, one at the upper and the other at the
B b 2 lower
196
Osteology, lower part of the body of each vertebra; which uniting
'-““"Y—' with similar depressions in the vertebrae above and be¬
low, form articulating surfaces, covered with cartilages,
for receiving the heads of the ribs; and at the forepart
of their transverse process (excepting the two last) we
find an articulating surface for receiving the tuberosity
„, of the ribs.
Lumbar These five vertebrae differ only from those of the back
vertebrae, in their being larger, and in having their spinous pro¬
cesses at a greater distance from each other. The most
considerable motions of the trunk are made on these
vertebrae; and these motions could not be performed
with so much ease, were the processes placed nearer to
^ each other.
Os sacrum. The os sacrum, which is composed of five or six
pieces in young subjects, becomes one bone in more
advanced age.
It is nearly of a triangular figure, its inferior portion
being bent a little forwards. Its superior part has two
oblique processes, which are articulated with the last
of the lumbar vertebrae ; and it has likewise commonly
three small spinous processes, which gradually become
shorter, so that the lowermost is not so long as the se¬
cond, nor the second as the uppermost. Its transverse
processes are formed into one oblong process, which be¬
comes gradually smaller as it descends. Its concave or
anterior side is usually smooth, but its posterior convex
side has many prominences (the most remarkable of
which are the spinous processes just now mentioned),
which are filled up and covered with the muscular and
tendinous parts behind.
This bone has five pair of holes, which afford a pas¬
sage to blood vessels, arrd likewise to the nerves that are
derived from the spinal marrow, which is continued
even here, being lodged in a triangular cavity, that be¬
comes smaller as it descends, and at length terminates
obliquely at the lower part of this bone. Below the
third division of the os sacrum, this canal is not com¬
pletely bony as the rest of the spine, being secured
at its back part only by a very strong membrane, so
that a wound at this part must be extremely dange¬
rous.
The os sacrum is united laterally to the ossa innomi-
3- nata or hip-bones, and below to the coccyx.
Cs coccyx. The coccyx, which, like the os sacrum, is in young
people made up of three or four distinct parts, usually
becomes one bone in the adult state.
It serves to support the intestinum rectum ; and, by
its being capable of some degree of motion at its arti¬
culation with the sacrum, and being like that bone
bent forwards, we are enabled to sit with ease.
This bone is nearly of a triangular shape, being
broadest at its upper part, and from tbenee growing
narrower to its apex, where it is not bigger than the
little finger.
It has got its name from its supposed resemblance to
a cuckow’s beak. It differs greatly from the vertebra;,
being commonly without any processes, and having no
cavity for the spinal marrow, or foramina for the trans¬
mission of nerves.
The spine, of which we have now finished the ana¬
tomical description, is destined for many great and im¬
portant uses. The medulla spinalis is lodged in its
bony canal secure from external injury. It serves as a
defence to the abdominal and thoracic viscera, and at
Part L
the same time supports the head, and gives a general Ofctcolouy,
firmness to the whole trunk. v——
We have before compared it to the letteryj and its
different turns will be found to render it not very unlike
the figure of that letter.—In the neck we see it project¬
ing somewhat forward to support the head, which, with¬
out this assistance, would require a greater number of
muscles. Lower down, in the thorax, we find it tak¬
ing a curved direction backwards, and of course in¬
creasing the cavity of the chest. After this, in the loins,
it again projects forwards in a direction with the cen¬
tre of gravity, by which means we are easily enabled
to keep the body in an erect posture, for otherwise we
should be liable to fall forwards. Towards its inferior
extremity, however, it again recedes backward, and
thus assists in forming the pelvis, the name given to the
cavity in which the urinary bladder, intestinum rec¬
tum, and other viscera are placed.
If this bony column had been formed only of one
piece, it would have been much more easily fractured
than it is now: and by confining the trunk to a stiff' si¬
tuation, a variety of motions would have been altogether
prevented, which are now performed with ease by the
great number of bones of which it is composed.
It is firm, and yet to this firmness there is added a
perfect flexibility. If it be required to carry a load
upon the head, the neck becomes stiff with the assist¬
ance of its muscles, and accommodates itself to the
load, as if it was composed only of one bone.—In
stooping likewise, or in turning to either side, the spine
turns itself in every direction, as if all its bones were
separated from each other.
In a part of the body like the spine, that is made up
of so great a number of bones, and intended for such a
variety of motion, there must he a greater danger of
dislocation than fracture; but we shall find, that this
is very wisely guarded against in every direction by the
processes belonging to each vertebra, and by the liga¬
ments, cartilages, &c. by which these bones are con¬
nected with each other.
§ 2. Of the Bones of the Thorax.
The thorax, or chest, is composed of many bones, 36
viz. the sternum which is placed at its anterior part,
twelve ribs on each side which make up its lateral parts,
and the dorsal vertebrae which constitute its posterior
part. These last have been already described.
The sternum is the long bone which extends itself0f thJitti.
from the upper to the lower part of the breast ante-nun^
rxorly, and to which the ribs and the clavicles are
ticulated.
In children it is composed of several bones united by
cartilages ; but as we advance in life, most of these
cartilages ossify, and the sternum in the adult state is
found to consist only ot three pieces, and sometimes
becomes one bone. It is however generally described
as being composed of three parts—one superior, which
is broad, thick, and short; and one in the middle,
which is thinner, narrower, and longer than the
other.
It terminates at its lower part by a third piece, which
is called the xijphoid, or sword-like cartilage, from its
supposed resemblance to the blade of a sword, and be¬
cause in young subjects it is commonly in a cartila¬
ginous state.
We
ANATOMY.
i lap. I.
i colony. We have already observed, that this bone is articu-
v -v*~— lated with the clavicle on each side. It is likewise
joined to the fourteen true ribs, viz. seven on its right
38 and seven on its left side.
( tlie ribs. The ribs are bones shaped like a bow, forming the
sides of the chest. There are twelve on each side.
They are distinguished into true and false ribs : The
seven upper ribs which are articulated to the ster¬
num are called true ribs, and the five lower ones that
are not immediately attached to that bone are called
false ribs.
On the inferior and interior surface of each rib, we
observe a sinuosity for the lodgmenUof an artery, vein,
and nerve.
The ribs are not bony through their whole length,
their anterior part being cartilaginous. They are ar¬
ticulated with the vertebrae and sternum. Every rib
(or at least the greater number of them) has at its pos¬
terior part two processes j one at its extremity, called
the bead of the rib, by means of which it is articu¬
lated with the body of two vertebrae ; and another,
called its tuberosity, by which it is articulated with the
transverse process of the lowest of these two vertebrae^
The first rib is not articulated by its extremity to two
vertebrae, being simply attached to the upper part of
the first vertebra of the back. The seven superior or
true ribs are articulated anteriorly with the sternum by
their cartilages ; but the false ribs are supported in a
different manner—the eighth, which is the first of these
ribs, being attached by its cartilages to the seventh j
the ninth to the eighth, &c.
The two lowermost ribs differ likewise from all the
rest in the following particulars : They are articulated
only with the body of a vertebra, and not with a
transverse process ; and anteriorly, their cartilage is
loose, not being attached to the cartilages of the other
ribs; and this seems to be, because the most consider¬
able motions of the trunk are not performed on the
lumbar vertebrae alone, but likewise on the two last
vertebrae of the back : so that if these two ribs had
been confined at the fore part like the other ribs, and
had been likewise articulated with the bodies of two
vertebrae, and with the transverse processes, the motion
of the two last vertebrae, and consequently of the whole
trunk, would have been impeded.
The ribs help to form the cavity of the thorax j
they afford attachment to different muscles; they are
useful in respiration j and they serve as a security to
the heart and lungs.
§ 3* Of ^ie Bones of the Pelvis.
39 The pelvis is composed of the os sacrum, os coccy-
gis, and two ossa innominata. The two first of these
bones were included in the account of the spine, to
which they more properly belong.
In children, each os innominatum is composed of
three distinct bones j but as we advance in life the in¬
termediate cartilages gradually ossify, and the marks
of the original separation disappear, so that they be¬
come one irregular bone j still, however, continuing to
retain the names of ilium, ischium, and pubis, by which
their divisions were originally distinguished, and to be
described as three different bones by the generality of
anatomists. The os ilium forms the upper and most
i9T
considerable part of the bone, the os ischium its lower (Meolosj;
and posterior portion, and the os pubis its fore part. v v— '
The os ilium, or haunch-bone, is articulated poste- .4°
riorly to the os sacrum by a firm cartilaginous substance, f)s '^um*
and is united to the os pubis before and to the os is¬
chium below. Its superior portion is thin, and ter¬
minates in a ridge called the crista or spine of the ili¬
um, and more commonly known bv the name of the
haunch. This crista rises up like an arch, being turn¬
ed somewhat outwards, so as to resemble the wings of
a phaeton.
Externally this bone is unequally prominent and hol¬
lowed for the lodgment of muscles ; internally we find
it smooth and concave. At its lower part there is a
considerable ridge on its inner surface. This ridge
extends from the os sacrum, and corresponds with a
similar prominence both on that bone and the ischium ,
forms with the inner part of the ossa pubis what in
midwifery is termed the brim of the pelvis.
The crista, or spine, which at first is an epiphysis,
has two considerable tuberosities ; one anteriorly, and
the other posteriorly, which is the largest of the two :
These, from their projecting more than the parts of
the bone below them, have gotten the name of spinal
processes. From the anterior spinous process, the sar-
torius and tensor vaginae femoris muscles have their
origin j and below the posterior process we observe a
considerable niche in the bone, which, in the recent
subject, is formed into a large foramen, by means of a
strong ligament that is stretched over its lower part
from the os sacrum to the sharp-pointed process of the
ischium. This hole affords a passage to the great sci¬
atic nerve, and to the posterior crural vessels under
the pyriform muscle, part of which likewise passes out
here. , r
The os ischium, or hip-bone, which is of a very ir-Qs ucbiujE,
regular figure, constitutes the lower lateral parts of the
pelvis, and is commonly divided into its body, tubero¬
sity, and ramus. The body forms the lower and most
considerable portion of the acetabulum, and sends a
sharp-pointed process backwards, called the spine of
the ischium. To this process the ligament adheres,
which was just now spoken of, as forming a foramen for
the passage of the sciatic nerve. The tuberosity, which
is the lowest part of the trunk, and supports us when
we sit, is large and irregular, affording origin to seve¬
ral muscles. From this tuberosity we find the bone
becoming thinner and narrower. This part, which has
the name of ramus or branchj passes forwards and up¬
wards, and concurs with tire ramus of the os pubis, to
form a large hole called the foramen magnum ischri, or
thyroideum, as it is sometimes named from its resem¬
blance to a door or shield. This hole, which in the-
recent subject is closed by a strong membrane called
the obturator ligament, affords through its whole cir¬
cumference attachment to- muscles. At its upper part
where we observe a niche in the bone, it gives passage
to. the obturator vessels and nerves, which-go to the in¬
ner part of the thigh* Nature seems everywhere to
avoid an unnecessary weight of bone, and this foramen,
no doubt, serves to lighten the bones of the pelvis.
The os pubis or share-bone, which with its fellow0* pubis* .
forms the fore part of the pelvis, is the smallest di¬
vision of the os innominatum. It is united to its fellow
hT.
ANATOMY.
ipB
Osteology*
A N A T
by means of a strong cartilage, which forms what is
called the symphysis pubis. _ „
In each os pubis we may distinguish the body ot
the bone, its angle and ramus. The body or outer
part is united to the os ilium. The angle comes for¬
wards to form the symphysis, and the ramus is a thin
process which unites with the ramus of the ischium, to
form the foramen thyroideum.
The three bones we have described as composing
each os innominatum, all assist in forming the. ace¬
tabulum, in which the head of the os femoris is re¬
ceived.
This cavity is everywhere lined with a smooth car¬
tilage, excepting at its inner part, where we may ob¬
serve a little fossa, in which are lodged the mucilagi¬
nous glands of the joint. We may likewise notice.the
pit or depression made by the round ligament, as it is
improperly called, which, by adhering to this cavity
and to the head of the thigh-bone, helps to secure the
latter in the socket.
These bones, which are united to each other and to
the spine, by many very strong ligaments, serve to sup¬
port the trunk, and to connect it with the lower extre¬
mities ; and at the same time to form the pelvis or ba¬
son, in which are lodged the intestines and urinary
bladder, and in women the uterus j so that the study of
this part of osteology is of the utmost importance in
midwifery.
It is worthy of observation, that in women the os
sacrum is usually shorter, broader, and more hollowed,
the ossa ilia more expanded, and the inferior opening
of the pelvis larger, than in men.
Sect. IV. Of the Extremities.
IX The parts of the skeleton consist of the upper ex¬
tremity and the lower.
§ I. Of the Upper Extremities.
44 This consists of the shoulder, the arm, and the
band.
45 I. Of the Shoulder.
The shoulder consists of two bones, the clavicula and
^ the scapula.
Of the cla- The former, which is so named from its resemblance
vieula. to the key in use among the ancients, is a little cur¬
ved at both its extremities like an Italic f. It is like¬
wise called jugu/um, or collar bone, from its situation.
It is about the size of the little finger, but longer, and
being of a very spongy substance, is very liable to be
fractured. In this, as in other long bones, we may
distinguish a body and two extremities. The body is
rather flattened than rounded. The anterior extremi¬
ty is formed into a slightly convex head, which is
nearly of a triangular shape. The inferior surface of
the head is articulated with the sternum. The poste¬
rior extremity, which is flatter and broader than the
other, is connected to a process of the scapula, called
acromion. Both these articulations are secured by li¬
gaments, and in that with the sternum we meet with
a moveable cartilage, to prevent any injury from fric¬
tion.
The clavicle serves to regulate the motions of the
scapula, by preventing it from being brought too much
3
O M Y.
Part I
forwards, or carried too far backwards. It affords ori- Osteology
gin to several muscles, and helps to cover and protect
the subclavian vessels, which derive their name from
their situation under this bone. . ^
The scapula, or shoulder-blade, which is nearly of Of the sea
a triangular shape, is fixed to the posterior part of the pula,
true ribs, somewhat in the manner of a buckler. It
is of a very unequal thickness, and like all other broad
flat bones, is somewhat cellular. Exteriorly it is con¬
vex, and interiorly concave, to accommodate itself to
the convexity of the ribs. We observe in this bone
three unequal sides, which are thicker and stronger than
the body of the bone, and are therefore termed its
costce. The largest of the three, called also the basis,
is turned towards the vertebrae. Another, which is
less than the former, is below this $ and the third,
which is the least of the three, is at the upper part of
the bone. Externally the bone is elevated into a con¬
siderable spine, which rising small at the basis of the
scapula, becomes gradually higher and broader, and
divides the outer surface of the bone into two fossae.
The superior of these, which is the smallest, serves to
lodge the supra spinatus muscle; and the inferior fos¬
sa, which is much larger than the other, gives origin
to the infra spinatus. This spine terminates in a broad
and flat process at the top of the shoulder, called the
processus acromion, to which the clavicle is articulated.
This process is hollowed at its lower part to allow a
passage to the supra and infra spinati muscles. The
scapula has likewise another considerable process at its
upper part, which, from its resemblance to the beak
of a bird, is called the coracoid process. From the out¬
er side of this coracoid process, a strong ligament pas¬
ses to the processus acromion, which prevents a luxa¬
tion of the os humeri upwards. A third’process be¬
gins by a narrow neck, and ends in a cavity called
glenoid, for the connexion of the os humeri.
The scapula is articulated with the clavicle and os
humeri, to which last it serves as a fulcrum $ and by-
varying its position it affords a greater scope to the
bones of the arm in their different motions. It like¬
wise gives origin to several muscles, and posteriorly
serves as a defence to the trunk.
2. Bones of the Arm.
The arm is commonly divided into trvo parts, which
are articulated to each other at the elbow'. The up¬
per part retains the name of arm, properly so called,
and the lower part is usually called the fore-arm.
The arm is composed of a single bone called os hu¬
meri. This bone, which is almost of a cylindrical
shape, may be divided into its body and its extremi¬
ties.
The upper extremity begins by a large, round, smooth
head, which is admitted into the glenoid cavity of the
scapula. On the upper and fore part of the bone there
is a groove for lodging the long head of the biceps
muscle of the arm 5 and on each side of the groove, at
the upper end of the bone, there is a tubercle to which
the spinati muscles are fixed.
The lower extremity has several processes and cavi¬
ties. The principal processes are its two condyles, one
exterior and the other interior, and of these the last is
the largest. Between these two we observe two late¬
ral protuberances, which, together with a middle ca-
ANATOMY.
5°
the fore-
S*
the ul-
. S*
the ra.
is.
vlty, form as it were a kind of pulley upon which the
motions of the fore-arm are chiefly performed. At
each side of the condyles, as well exteriorly as interior¬
ly, there is another eminence which gives origin to se¬
veral muscles of the hand and fingers. Posteriorly and
superiorly, speaking with respect to the condyles, we
observe a deep fossa which receives a considerable pro¬
cess of the ulna •, and anteriorly and opposite to this
fossa, we observe another, which is much less, and re¬
ceives another process of the same bone.
The body of the bone has at its upper and anterior
part a furrow which begins from behind the head of
the bone, and serves to lodge the tendon of a muscle.
The body of the os humeri is hollow through its whole
length, and like all other long bones has its marrow.
This bone is articulated at its upper part to the sca¬
pula. This articulation, which allows motion every
way, is surrounded by a capsular ligament that is some¬
times torn in luxation, and becomes an obstacle to the
easy reduction of the bone. Its lower extremity is ar¬
ticulated with the bones of the fore-arm.
The fore-arm is composed of two bones, the ulna and
radius.
The ulna or elbow bone is much less than the os
humeri, and becomes gradually smaller as it descends
to the wrist. At its upper part it has two processes
and two cavities. Of the two processes, the largest,
which is situated posteriorly, and called the olecranon,
is admitted into the posterior fossa of the os humeri.
The other process is placed anteriorly, and is called
the coronoidprocess. In bending the arm it enters in¬
to the anterior fossa of the os humeri. This process
being much smaller than the other, permits the fore¬
arm to bend inwards 5 whereas the olecranon, which
is shaped like a hook, reaches the bottom of its fossa
in the os humeri as soon as the arm becomes straight,
and will not permit the fore-arm to be bent backwards.
The ligaments likewise oppose this motion.
Between the two processes we have described, there
is a considerable cavity called the sigmoid cavity, di¬
vided into two fossEe by a small eminence, which passes
from one process to the other j it is by means of this
cavity and the two processes, that the ulna is articulat¬
ed with the os humeri by giriglimus.
At the bottom of the coronoid process interiorly,
there is a small sigmoid cavity, which serves for the
articulation of the ulna with the radius.
The body of the ulna is of a triangular shape : Its
lower extremity terminates by a small head and a little
styloid process. The ulna is articulated above to the
os humeri—both above and below to the radius, and to
the wrist at its lower extremity. All these articula¬
tions are secured by means of ligaments. The chief
use of this bone seems to be to support and regulate the
motions of the radius.
The radius, which is so named from its supposed re¬
semblance to the spoke of a wheel, is placed at the in¬
side of the fore-arm. It is somewhat larger than the
ulna, but not quite so long as that bone. Its upper
1 99
part is cylindrical, hollowed superiorly to receive the Osteology,
outer condyle of the os humeri. Laterally it is ad- —-v——'
mitted into the little sigmoid cavity of the ulna, and
the cylindrical part of the bone turns in this cavity in
the motions of pronation and supination (l). This
bone follows the ulna in flexion and extension, and may
likewise be moved round its axis in any direction. The
lower extremity of the radius is much, larger and
stronger than its upper part ; the ulna, on the con¬
trary, is smaller and weaker below than above; so that
they serve to supply each other’s deficiencies in both
those parts.
On the external side of this bone, We observe a small
cavity which is destined to receive the lower end of the
ulna ; and its lower extremity is formed into a large
cavity, by means of which it is articulated with the
bones of the wrist, and on this account it is sometimes
called manubrium manus. It supports the two first
bones of the wrist on the side of the thumb, whereas
the ulna is articulated with that bone of the wrist which
corresponds with the little finger.
Through the whole length both of this bone and the
ulna, a ridge is observed which affords attachment to
an interosseous ligament. This ligament fills up the
space between the two bones.
3. Bones of the Hand. ^
° , s4
The carpus or wrist consists of eight small bones ofOfthecar-
an irregular shape, and disposed in two unequal rows.Pus*
Those of the upper row are articulated with the bones
of the fore-arm, and those of the lower one with the
metacarpus.
The ancient anatomists described these bones nume¬
rically 5 Lyserus seems to have been the first who gave
to each of them a particular name. The names he adopt¬
ed are found on the figure of the bones, and are now
pretty generally received, except the first, which in¬
stead of xolvXoiifois (the name given to it by Lyserus, on
account of its sinus, that admits a part of the os mag¬
num), has by later writers been named Scaphoides or
Naviculare. This, which is the outermost of the up¬
per row (considering the thumb as the outer side of
the hand), is articulated with the radius ; on its inner
side it is connected with the os lunare, and below to
the trapezium and trapezoides. Next to this is a small¬
er bone, called the os lunare ; because its outer side,
which is connected with the scaphoides, is shaped like
a crescent. This is likewise articulated with the radi¬
us. On its inner side it joins the os cuneiforme 5 and
anteriorly, the os magnum and os unciforme.
The os cuneiforme, which is the third bone in the
upper row, is compared to a wedge, from its being
broader above, at the back of the hand, than it is be¬
low’. Posteriorly it is articulated with the ulna, and
anteriorly with the os unciforme.
These three bones form an oblong articulating sur¬
face, covered by cartilage, by which the hand is con¬
nected with the fore-arm.
The os pisiforme, or pea-like bone, which is smaller
than
(l) The motions of pronation and supination may be easily described. If the palm of the hand, for instance,
is placed on the surface of a table, the hand may be said to be in a state of pronation j but if the back pait
the hand is turned towards the table, the hand will be then in a state of supination.
ANATOM Y. Part I
than the three just now described, though generally
classed with the bones of the upper row, does not pro¬
perly belong to either series, being placed on the un¬
der surface of the os cuneiforme, so as to project into
the palm of the hand, ^he four bones of the second
row correspond with the bones of the thumb and fing¬
ers ; the first, second, and fourth, are from their shapes
named trapezium, trapezoides, and unciforme; the third,
from its being the largest btme of the carpus, is styled
os magnum.
All these bones are convex towards the back, and
slightly concave towards the palm of the hand ; their
articulating surfaces are covered with cartilages, and
secured by many strong ligaments, particularly by two
ligamentous expansions, called the external and inter¬
nal annular ligaments of the wrist. The former ex¬
tends in an oblique direction from the os pisiforme to
the styloid process of the radius, and is an inch and a
half in breadth ; the latter or internal annular ligament
is stretched from the os pisiforme and os unciforme, to
the os scaphoides and trapezium. These annular liga¬
ments likewise serve to bend down the tendons of the
wrist and fingers.
The metacarpus consists of four bones, which sup¬
port the fingers ; externally they are a little convex,
and internally somewhat concave, where they form the
palm of the hand. They are hollow, and of a cylin¬
drical shape.
At each extremity they are a little hollowed for
their articulation ; superiorly with the bones of the car¬
pus, and inferiorly with the first phalanx of the fingers,
in the same manner as the several phalanges of the fing¬
ers are articulated with each other.
The five fingers of each hand are composed of fifteen
bones, disposed in three ranks called phalanges : The
bones of the first phalanx, which are articulated with
the metacarpus, are the largest, and those of the last
phalanx the smallest. All these bones are larger at
their extremities than in their middle part.
We observe at the extremities of the bones of the
carpus, metacarpus, and finger's, several inequalities that
serve for their articulation with each other; and these
articulations are strengthened by means of the ligaments
which surround them.
It will be easily understood that this multiplicity of
bones in the hand (for there are 27 in each hand) is
•essential to the different motions we wish to perform.
If each finger was composed only of one bone instead
of three, it would be impossible for us to grasp any
thing.
§ 2. Of the Lower Extremities.
Each lower extremity is divided into four parts, viz.
the os femoris, or thigh bone 5 the rotula, or knee-pan $
the leg j and the foot.
1. Of the Thigh.
The thigh is composed only of this bone, which is
the largest and strongest we have. It will be necessary
to distinguish its body and extremities : Its body, which
is of a cylindrical shape, is convex before and concave
behind, where it serves to lodge several muscles.
Throughout two-thirds of its length we observe a ridge,
•called linea aspera, which originates from the trochan¬
ters, and after running for some way downwards, di¬
vides into two branches, that terminate in the tubero- Osteologv,
sities at the lower extremity of the bone. y--..
At its upper extremity we must describe the neck
and smooth head of the bone, and likewise two consi¬
derable processes: The head, which forms the greater
portion of a sphere unequally divided, is turned inwards,
and received into the great cotyloid cavity of the os in-
nominatum. At this part of the bone there is a little
fossa to be observed, to which the round ligament is
attached, and which vve have already described as tend¬
ing to secure the bead of this bone in the great aceta¬
bulum. The neck is almost horizontal, considered with
respect to its situation with the body of the bone. Of
the two processes, the external one, which is the largest,
is called trochanter major $ and the other, which is
placed on the inside of the bone, trochanter minor.
They both afford attachment to muscles. The articu¬
lation of the os femoris with the trunk is strengthened
by means of a capsular ligament, which adheres every¬
where round the edge of the great cotyloid cavity of
the os innominatum, and surrounds the head of the
bone.
The os femoris moves upon the trunk in every di¬
rection.
xlt the lotver extremity of the bone are two processes
called the condyles, and an intermediate smooth cavity,
by means of which it is articulated with the leg by gin-
glimus.
All round the under end of the bone there is an ir- *
regular surface where the capsular ligament of the joint
has its origin, and where blood-vessels go into the sub¬
stance of the bone.
Between the condyles there is a cavity posteriorly,
in which the blood-vessels and nerves are placed, secure
from the compression to which they would otherwise be
exposed in the action of bending the leg, and which
would not fail to be hurtful.
At the side of each condyle externally, there is a
tuberosity, from whence the lateral ligaments originate,
which are extended down to the tibia.
A ligament likewise arises from each condyle poste¬
riorly. One of these ligaments passes from the right
to the left, and the other from the left to the right, so
that they intersect each other, and for that reason are
called the cross ligaments.
The lateral ligaments prevent the motion of the leg
upon the thigh to the right or left, and the cross liga¬
ments, which are also attached to the tibia, prevent the
latter from being brought forwards.
In new born children all the processes of this bone
are cartilaginous.
2. The Rotula, or Knee-pan.
The rotula, patella, or knee-pan, as it is differently ofth/r*
called, is a flat bone about four or five inches in cir-tnla.
cumference, and is placed at the fore part of the joint
of the knee. In its shape it is somewhat like the com¬
mon figure of the heart, with its point downwards.
It is thinner at its edge than in its middle part $ at
its forepart it is smooth and somewhat convex; its
posterior surface, which is more unequal, affords an
elevation in the middle which is admitted between the
two condyles of the os femoris.
This bone is retained in its proper situation by a
strong ligament which everywhere surrounds it, and
adheres
(lap. I. A N A T
<j eology. adheres botli to the tibia and os femoris j it is likewise
^ firmly connected with the tibia by means of a strong-
tendinous ligament of an inch in breadth, and upwards
of two inches in length, which adheres to the lower
part of the patella, and to the tuberosity at the upper
end of the tibia. On account of this connexion, it is
very properly considered as an appendage to the tibia,
which it follows in all its motions, so as to be to it
w'hat the olecranon is to the ulna. There is this dif¬
ference, however, that the olecranon is a fixed pro¬
cess j whereas the patella is moveable, being capable
of sliding from above downwards and from below up¬
wards. This mobility is essential to the rotatory mo¬
tion of the leg.
In very young children this bone is entirely cartila¬
ginous.
The principal use of the patella seems to be to de¬
fend the articulation of the knee from external in¬
jury j it likewise tends to increase the power of the
extensor muscles of the leg, by removing their direc¬
tion farther from the centre of motion in the manner
of a pulley.
O M Y.
The body of this bone, which is irregularly triangu¬
lar, is a little hollow at its internal surface, which is
turned towards the tibia ; and it affords like that bone,
through its whole length, attachment to a ligament,
which from its situation is called the interosseous lip-a¬
ment.
61
C he ti-
fa.
>2
fc 1U
3. Of the Leg.
The leg is composed of two hones : Of these the in¬
ner one, which is the largest; is called tibia; the other
is much smaller, and named fibula.
The tibia, which is so called from its resemblance to
the musical pipe of the ancients, has three surfaces, and
is not very unlike a triangular prism. Its posterior
surface is the broadest ; anteriorly it has a considerable
ridge called the shin, between which and the skin there
are no muscles. At the upper extremity of this bone
are two surfaces, a little concave, and separated from
each other by an intermediate elevation. The two lit¬
tle cavities receive the condyles of the os femoris, and
the eminence between them is admitted into the cavity
which we spoke of as being between the two condyles;
so that this articulation affords a specimen of the com¬
plete ginglimus. Under the external edge of the up¬
per end of this bone is a circular flat surface, which re¬
ceives the head of the fibula.
At the lower and inner portion of the tibia, we ob¬
serve a considerable process called malleolus internus.
The basis of the bone terminates in a large transverse
cavity, by which it is articulated with the uppermost
bone of the foot. It has likewise another cavity at its
lower end and upper side, which is somewhat oblong,
and receives the lower end of the fibula.
The tibia is hollow through its whole length.
The fibula is a small long bone situated on the out¬
side of the tibia. Its superior extremity does not reach
quite so high as the upper part of the tibia, but its
lower end descends somewhat lower. Both above and
below, it is articulated with the tibia by means of the
lateral cavities we noticed in our description of that
bone.
Its lower extremity is stretched out into a coronoid
process, which is flattened at its inside, and is convex
externally, forming what is called the malleolus exter*
nus, or outer ankle. This is rather lower than the
malleolus internus of the tibia.
Vol. II. Part I. t
4. Of the Foot. ^
Ihe foot consists of the tarsus, metatarsus, and toes. 64
The tarsus is composed of seven bones, viz. the astra- 0f llje tar*
gains, os calcis, os navicuiare, os cuboides, and threeSUS"
others called cuneiform bones. g-
1 he astragalus is a large bone with which both the Of the a-
tibia and fibula are articulated. It is the uppermost straS,xluf'
bone of the foot j it has several surfaces to be consider¬
ed j its upper, and somewhat posterior part, which is
smooth and convex, is admitted into the cavity of the
tibia. Its lateral parts are connected with the malleoli
of the two bones of the legs-, below, it is articulated
with the os calcis, and its anterior surface is received
by the os navicuiare. All these articulations are se-
cur-ed by means of licraments.
Ihe os calcis, or calcaneum, which is of a very irre- qj-tile m
gular figure, is the largest bone of the foot. Behind, calcu. *
it is formed into a considerable tuberosity, called the
heel; without this tuberosity, which supports us in an
erect posture, and when we walk, we should be liable
to fall backwards.
On the internal surface of this bone, we observe a
considerable sinuosity, which affords a passage to the
tendon of a muscle ; and to the posterior part of the
os calcis, a strong tendinous cord, called tendo achillis
(m), is attached, which is formed by the tendons of
seyera] muscles united together. The articulation of
this with the other bones is secured by means of liga¬
ments.
The os navicuiare, or scaphoides\for these two terms of the os
have the same signification), is so called on account of navicuiare.
its resemblance to a little bark. At its posterior part,
which is concave, it receives the astragalus ; anteriorly
it is articulated with the cuneiform bones, and laterally
it is connected with the os cuhoides. f.„
The os cuboides forms an irregular cube. Posteri- of the os
orly it is articulated with the os calcis; anteriorly iteuboide*.
supports the two last bones of the metatarsus, and la¬
terally it joins the third cuneiform bone and the os
navicuiare.
Each of the ossa cuneiformia, which are three in num- of the ossa
her, resembles a wedge, and from this similitude their cuneifor-
name is derived. They are placed next to the meta-mla‘
tarsus by the sides of each other, and are usually distin¬
guished into os cuneiformc externum, medium or mini-
mum, and internum or maximum. The superior surface
of these bones, from their wedge-like shape, is broader
than that which is below, where they help to form the
sole of the foot; posteriorly they are united to the os
navicuiare, and anteriorly they support the three first
metatarsal bones.
When these seven hones composing the tarsus are
viewed together in the skeleton, they appear convex
above, where they help to form the upper part of the
foot; and concave underneath, where they form the
C c hollow
(m) This tendon is sometimes ruptured by jumping, dancing, or other violent efforts.
202
A N A T
Osteology, hollow of the foot, in which the vessels, tendons, and
*  v—nerves of the foot, are placed secure from pressure.
They are united to each other by very strong liga¬
ments, and their articulation with the foot is secured
by a capsular and two lateral ligaments j each of the
latter is covered by an annular ligament of considerable
breadth and thickness, which serves to bind down the
tendons of the foot, and at the same time to strengthen
the articulation.
The oscuneiforme externum is joined laterally to the
os cuboides.
These bones complete our account of the tarsus.
Though what we have said of this part of the osteology
has been very simple and concise, yet many readers
may not clearly understand it: but if they will be plea¬
sed to view these bones in their proper situation in the
skeleton,'all that we have said of them will be easily
understood.
Of the me- The metatarsus is made up of five bones, whereas
tatarsus. metacarpus consists only of four. The cause of
this difference is, that in the hand the last bone of the
thumb is not included among the metacarpal bones $
whereas in the foot the great toe has only two bones.
The first of these bones supports the great toe, and is
much larger than the rest, which nearly resemble each
other in size.
These bones are articulated by one extremity with
the cuneiform bones and the os cuboides, and by their
other end with the toes.
Of the toe*. Each of the toes, like the fingers, consists of three
bones, except the great toe, which is formed of two
bones. Those of the other four are distinguished into
three phalanges. Although the toes are more con¬
fined in their motion than the fingers, yet they appear
to be perfectly fitted for the purposes they are designed
O M Y. Parti.
for. In walking, the toes bring the centre of gravity Osteology,
perpendicular to the advanced foot) and as the soles of
the feet are naturally concave, we can at pleasure in¬
crease the concavity, and form a kind of vault, which
adjusts itself to the different inequalities that occur to
us in walking-, and which, without this mode of ar¬
rangement, would incommode us exceedingly, especially
when bare-footed.
§ 4. 0/’ the Ossa Sesamoidea.
Besides the bones we have already described, there
are several small ones that are met with only in the
adult skeleton, and in persons who are advanced in
life ; which, from their supposed general resemblance
to the seeds of the sesamum, are called ossa sesamoidea.
They are commonly to be seen at the first joint of the
great t(?e, and sometimes at the joints of the thumb j
they are likewise now and then to be found at the
lower extremity of the fibula, upon the condyles of
the thigh-bone, under the os cuboides of the tarsus,
and in other parts of the body. Their size and num¬
ber seem constantly to be increased by age and hard
labour; and as they are generally found in situations
where tendons and ligaments are most exposed to the
action of muscles, they are now generally considered as
ossified portions of ligaments or tendons.
The upper surface of these bones is usually convex,
and adherent to the tendon that covers it j the side
which is next to the joint is smooth and flat. Though
their formation is accidental, yet they seem to be of
some use, by raising the tendons farther from the centre
of motion, and consequently increasing the power of the
muscles. In the great toe and thumb they are like¬
wise useful, by forming a groove for the flexor ten¬
dons.
EXPLANATION of the PLATES of OSTEOLOGY.
Plate XXL
Fig. 1. A Front View of the Male Skeleton.
A, The os frontis. B, The os parietale. C, The
coronal suture. D, The squamous part of the tempo¬
ral bones. E, The squamous suture. F, The zygoma.
G, The mastoid process, H, The temporal process of
the sphenoid bone. I, The orbit. K, The os malee. L,
The os maxillare snperius. M, Its nasal process. N,
The ossa nasi. O, The os unguis. P, The maxilla in¬
ferior. Q, The teeth, which are sixteen in number in
each jaw. R, The seven cervical vertebrte, with their
intermediate cartilages. S, Their transverse processes.
T, The twelve dorsal vertebrae, with their interme¬
diate cartilages. U, The five lumbar vertebrae. V,
Their transverse processes. W, The upper part of the
os sacrum. X, Its lateral parts. The holes seen on
its fore part are the passages of the undermost spinal
nerves and small vessels. Opposite to the holes, the
marks of the original divisions of the hone are seen.
Y, The os ilium. Z, Its crest or spine, a, The an¬
terior spinous processes, b, The brim of the pelvis,
c, The ischiatic niche, d, The os ischium, e, Its
tuberosity, f, Its spinous process, g, Its crus, h, The
foramen thyroideum. i, The os pubis, k, The sym¬
physis pubis. 1, The crus pubis, m, The acetabulum.
3,
n, The seventh or last true rib. 0, The twelfth or last
false rib. p, The upper end of the sternum, q, The
middle piece, r, The upper end, or cartilago ensi-
formis. s, The clavicle, t, The internal surface of
the scapula, u, Its acromion, v, Its coracoid pro¬
cess. w, Its cervix, x, The glenoid cavity, y, The
os humeri, z, Its head, which is connected to the
glenoid cavity. I, Its external tubercle. 2, Its in¬
ternal tubercle. 3, The groove for lodging the long
head of the biceps muscle of the arm. 4, The inter¬
nal condyle. 5, The external condyle. Between 4
and 5, the trochlea. 6, The radius. 7, Its head.
8, Its tubercle. 9, The ulna. 10, Its coronoid pro¬
cess. 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, The carpus j
composed of os naviculare, os lunare, os cuneiforme,
os pisiforme, os trapezium, os trapezoides, os magnum,
os unciforme. 19, The five hones of the metacarpus.
20, The two bones of the thumb. 21, The three
bones of each of the fingers. 22, The os femoris.
23, Its head. 24, Its cervix. 25, The trochanter
major. 26, The trochanter minor. 27, The inter¬
nal condyle. 28, The external condyle. 29, The
rotula. 30, The tibia. 31, Its head. 32, Its tu¬
bercle. 33, Its spine. 34, The malleolus internus.
35, The fibula. 36, Its head. 37, The malleolus
externus. The tarsus is composed of, 38, The astraga¬
lus
(mp. I. ' ANATOMY. 203
Cpology. lu35 39, the os calcisj 40, the os naviculare j 41, three
<- J ossa cuneiformia, and the os cuboides, which is not seen
in this figure. 42, The five bones of the metatarsus.
43, The two bones of the great toe. 44, The three
bones of each of the small toes.
Fig. 2. A Front View of the Skull.
A, The os frontis. B, The lateral part of the os
frontis, which gives origin to part of the temporal
muscle. C, The superciliary ridge. D, the super¬
ciliary hole through which the frontal vessels and nerves
pass. EE, The orbitar processes. F, The middle of
the transverse suture. G, The upper part of the or¬
bit. H, The foramen opticum. I, The foramen la-
cerum. K, The inferior orbitar fissure. L, The os
unguis. M, The ossa nasi. N, The os maxillare su-
perius. O, Its nasal process. P, The external orbi¬
tar hole through which the superior maxillary vessels
and nerves pass. Q, The os malae. R, A passage for
small vessels into, or out of, the orbit. S, The under
part of the left nostril. T, The septum narium. U,
The os spongiosum superius. V, The os spongiosum
inferius. W, The edge of the alveoli, or spongy sock¬
ets, for the teeth. X, The maxilla inferior. Y, The
passage for the inferior maxillary vessels and nerves.
Fig. 3. A Side View of the Skull.
A, The os frontis. B, The coronal suture. C, The
os parietale. D, An arched ridge which gives origin
to the temporal muscle. E, The squamous suture.
F, The squamous part of the temporal bone j and,
farther forwards, the temporal process of the sphenoid
bone. G, The zygomatic process of the temporal
bone. H, The zygomatic suture. I, The mastoid
process of the temporal bone. K, The meatus audi-
torius externus. L, The orbitar plate of the frontal
bone, under which is seen the transverse suture.
M, The pars plana of the ethmoid bone. N, The os
unguis. O, The right os nasi. P, The superior max¬
illary bone. Q, Its nasal process. R, The two den¬
tes incisores. S, The dens caninus. T, The two
small molares. U, The three large molares. V, The
os malae. W, The lower jaw. X, Its angle. Y, The
coronoid process. Z, The condyloid process, by which
the jaw is articulated with the temporal bone.
Fig. 4. The Posterior and Right side of the Skull.
A, The os frontis. BB, The ossa parietalia.
C, The sagittal suture. I), The parietal hole, through
which a small vein runs to the superior longitudinal
sinus. E, The lambdoid suture. FF, Ossa triquetra.
G, The os occipitis. H, The squamous part of the
temporal bone. I, The mastoid process. K, The
zygoma. L, The os malae. M, The temporal part
of the sphenoid bone. N, The superior maxillary bone
and teeth.
Fig. 5. The External Surface of the Os Frontis.
A, The convex part. B, Part of the temporal
fossa. C, The external angular process. D, The in¬
ternal angular process. E, The nasal process. F, The
superciliary arch. G, The superciliary hole. H, The
orbitar plate.
Fig. 5. The Internal Surface of the Os Frontis.
A A, The serrated edge which assists to form the co¬
ronal suture. B, The external angular process. C,
The internal angular process. D, The nasal process.
E, The orbitar plate. F, The cells which correspond Osteology,
with those of the ethmoid bone. G, The passage from nr'*-"*'
the frontal sinus. H, The opening which receives the
cribriform plate of the ethmoid bone. I, The cavity
which lodges the fore part of the brain. K, The spine
to which the falx is fixed. L, The groove which
lodges the superior longitudinal sinus.
Plate XXII.
Fig. 1. A Back View of the Skeleton.
AA, The ossa parietalia. B, The sagittal suture.
C, The lambdoid suture. D, The occipital bone.
E, The squamous suture. F, The mastoid process of
the temporal bone. G, The os malse. H, The pa¬
late plates of the superior maxillary bones. I, The
maxilla inferior. K, The teeth of both jaws. L, The
seven cervical vertebrae. M, Their spinous processes.
N, Their transverse and oblique processes. O, The
last of the twelve dorsal vertebrae. P, The fifth or last
lumbar vertebra. Q, The transverse processes. R, The
oblique processes. S, The spinous processes. T, The
upper part of the os sacrum. U, The posterior holes
which transmit small blood-vessels and nerves. V, The
under part of the os sacrum which is covered by a
membrane. W, The os coccygis. X, The os ilium.
Y, Its spine or crest. Z, The ischiatic niche, a, The
os ischium, b, Its tuberosity, c, Its spine, d, The
os pubis, e, The foramen thyroideum. f, The se¬
venth or last true rib. g, The twelfth or last false rib*
h, The clavicle, i, The scapula, k, Its spine. 1, Its
acromion, m, Its cervix, n, Its superior costa. 0, Its
posterior costa, p, Its inferior costa, q, The os hu¬
meri. r, The radius* s, The ulna, t, Its olecranon,
u, All the bones of the carpus, excepting the os pisi-
forme, which is seen in Plate XXI. fig. 1. v, The
five bones of the metacarpus, w, The two hones of
the thumb, x, The three bones of each of the fingers,
y, The two sesamoid bones at the root of the left
thumb, z, The os femoris. 1, The trochanter ma¬
jor. 2, The trochanter minor. 3, The linea aspera.
4. The internal condyle. 5, The external condyle*
6 6, The semilunar cartilages. 7. The tibia. 8, The
malleolus internus. 9, The fibula. 10, The malleo¬
lus externus. 11, The tarsus. 12, The metatarsus*
13, The toes.
Fig. 2. The External Surface of the Left Os Parie¬
tale.
A, The convex smooth surface. B, The parietal
hole. C, An arch made by the beginning of the tem¬
poral muscle.
Fig. 3. The Internal Surface of the same Bone.
A, Its superior edge, which, joined with the other*
forms the sagittal suture. B, The anterior edge, which
assists in the formation of the coronal suture. C, The
inferior edge for the squamous suture. D, The poste¬
rior edge for the lambdoid suture. E, A depression
made by the lateral sinus. FF, The prints of the ar¬
teries of the dura mater.
Fig. 4. The External Surface of the Left Os Tem-
porum.
A, The squamous part. B, The mastoid- process.
C, The zygomatic process. D, The styloid process.
E, The petrosal process. F, The meatus auditorius
C c 2 externus;
204
Otteology. externus. G, The glenoid cavity for the articulation
' of the lower jaw. H, The foramen stylo-mastoideum
for the portio dura of the seventh pair of nerves.
I, Passages for blood vessels into the bone. K, The
foramen mastoideum through which a vein goes to the
lateral sinus.
Fig. 5. The Internal Surface of the Left Os Tem-
porum.
A, The squamous part 5 the upper edge of which
assists in forming the squamous suture. B, The ma¬
stoid process. C, the styloid process. 13, The pars
petrosa. E, The entry of the seventh pair, or auditory
nerve. F, The fossa, which lodges a part of the la¬
teral sinus. G, The foramen mastoideum.
Fig. 6. The External Surface of the Osseous Circle,
which terminates the meatus auditorius externus.
A, The anterior part. B, A small part of the
groove in which the membrana tympani is fixed.
N. B. This, with the subsequent bones of the ear,
are here delineated as large as the life.
Fig. 7. The Internal Surface of the Osseous Circle.
A, The anterior part. B, The groove in which
the membrana tympani is fixed.
Fig. 8. The situation and connexion of the Small
Bones of the Ear.
A, The malleus. B, The incus. C, The os or-
biculare. D, The stapes.
Fig. 9. The Malleus, with its Head, Handle, and
Small Processes.
Fig. 10. The Incus, with its Body, Superior and In¬
ferior Branches.
Fig. 11. The Os Orbiculare.
Fig. 12. The Stapes, with its Head, Base, and two
Crura.
Fig. 13. An Internal View of the Labyrinth of the
Ear.
A, The hollow part of the cochlea, which forms a
share of the meatus auditorius internus. B, The vesti-
bulum. CCC, The semicircular canals.
Fig. 14. An External View of the Labyrinth.
A, The semicircular canals. B, The fenestra ovalis
which leads into tire vestibulum. C, The fenestra ro¬
tunda which opens into the cochlea. D, The different
turns of the cochlea.
Fig. 15. The Internal Surface of the Os Sphenoides.
AA, The temporal processes. BB, The ptery¬
goid processes. CC, The spinous processes. DD, The
anterior clinoid processes. E, The posterior clinoid
process. F, The anterior process which joins the
ethmoid bone. G, The sella turcica for lodging
the glandula pituitaria. H, The foramen opticum.
K, The foramen lacerum. L, The foramen rotun-
dum. M, The foramen ovale. N, The foramen spi-
nale.
Fig. 16. The External Surface of the Os Sphenoides.
AA, The temporal processes. BB, The pterygoid
processes. CC, The spinous processes. D, The pro¬
cessus azygos. E, The small triangular processes which
grow from the body of the bone. FF, The orifices
2
Part I,
of the sphenoidal sinuses. G, The foramen lacerum. Osteology
H, The foramen rotundum. I, The foramen ovale. -
K, The foramen ptervgoideum.
Fig. 17. The External View of the Os Ethmoides.
A, The nasal lamella. BB, The grooves between
the nasal lamella and ossa spongiosa superiora. CC, The
ossa spongiosa superiora. 1313, The sphenoid cornua.
See Fig. 16. E.
Fig. 18. The Internal View of the Os Ethmoides.
A, The crista galli. B, The cribriform plate, with
the difi’erent passages of the olfactory nerves. CC,
Some of the ethmoidal cells. D, The right os planum.
EE, The sphenoidal cornua.
Fig. 19. The Bight Sphenoidal Cornu.
Fig. 20. The Left Sphenoidal Cornu.
Fig. 21. The External Surface of the Os Occipitis.
A, The upper part of the bone. B, The superior
arched ridge. C, The inferior arched ridge. Under
the arches are prints made by muscles of the neck.
I3D, The two condyloid processes which articulate
the head with the spine. E, The cuneiform process.
F, The foramen magnum through which the spinal
marrow passes. GG, The posterior condyloid fora¬
mina which transmit veins into the lateral sinuses.
HH, The foramina lingualia for the passage of the
ninth pair of nerves.
Fig. 22. The Internal Surface of the Os Occipitis.
AA, The two sides which assist to form the lamb-
doid suture. B, The point of the cuneiform process
where it joins the sphenoid bone. CC, The prints
made by the posterior lobes of the brain. DD, Prints
made by the lobes of the cerebellum. E, The cruci¬
form ridge for the attachment of the processes of the
dura mater. F, The course of the superior longitudi¬
nal sinuses. GG, The course of the twm lateral si¬
nuses. H, The foramen magnum. II, The posterior
condyloid foramina.
Plate XXIII.
Fig. 1. A Side View of the Skeleton.
AA, The ossa parietalia. B, The sagittal suture»
C, The os occipitis. DD, The lambdoid suture.
E, The squamous part of the temporal bone. F, The
mastoid process. G, The meatus auditorius externus.
H, The os fronds. I, The os malie. K, The os max-
illai’e superius. L, The maxilla inferior. M, The
teeth of both jaws. N, The seventh or last cervical
vertebra. O, The spinous processes. P, Their trans¬
verse and oblique processes. Q, The twelfth or last
dorsal vertebra. B, The fifth or last lumbar vertebra.
S, The spinous processes. T, Openings between the
vertebrae for the passage of the spinal nerves. U, The
under end of the os sacrum. V, The os coccygis.
W, The os ilium. X, The anterior spinous processes.
Y, The posterior spinous processes. Z, The ischiatic
niche, a, The right os ilium, b, The ossa pubis*-
c, The tuberosity of the left os ischium, d, The sca¬
pula. e, Its spine, f, The os humeri, g, The ra¬
dius. h, The ulna, i, The carpus, k, The meta¬
carpal bone of the thumb. 1, The metacarpal bones
of the fingers, m, The two bones of the thumb,
n, The three bones of each of the fingers. 0, The os
femoris.
ANATOM Y.
(lap I. ANATOMY. 205
< eolo^y. femoris. p, Its head, q, The trochanter major, r, The
-y—r external condyle, s, The rotula. t, The tibia, u, The
fibula, v. The malleolus externus. w, The astraga¬
lus. x, The os calcis. y, The os naviculare. z, The
three ossa cuneiformia. I, The os cuboides. 2, The
five metatarsal bones. 3, The two bones of the great
toe. 4, The three bones of each of the small toes.
Fig. 2. A View of the Internal Surface of the Base of
the Skull.
AAA, The two tables of the skull with the diploe.
BB, The orbitar plates of the frontal bone. C, The
crista galli, with the cribriform plate of the ethmoidal
bone on each side of it, through which the first pair
of nerves pass. D, The cuneiform process of the oc¬
cipital bone. E, The cruciform ridge. F, The fo¬
ramen magnum for the passage of the spinal marrow.
G, The zygoma, made by the joining of the zygo¬
matic processes of the os temporum and os malse.
H, The pars squamosa of the os temporum. I, The
pars mammillaris. K, The pars petrosa. L, The
temporal process of the sphenoid bone. MM, The
anterior clinoid processes. N, The posterior clinoid
process. O, The sella turcica. P, The foramen op-
ticum, for the passage of the optic nerve and ocular
artery of the left side. Q, The foramen lacerum, for
the third, fourth, sixth, and first of the fifth part of
nerves and ocular vein. R, The foramen rotundum
for the second of the fifth pair. S, The foramen
ovale, for the third of the fifth pair. T, The foramen
spinale, for the principal artery of the dura mater.
U, The entry of the auditory nerve. V, The passage
for the lateral sinus. W, The passage of the eighth
pair of nerves. X, The passage of the ninth pair.
Fig. 3. A View of the External Surface of the Base
of the Skull.
A, The two dentes incisores of the right side B,
The dens caninus. C, The two small molares. D, The
three large molares. E, The foramen incisiyum, which
gives passage to small blood-vessels and nerves. F, The
palate plates of the ossa maxillaria and palati, joined
by the longitudinal and transverse palate sutures. G,
The foramen palatinum posterius, for the palatine ves¬
sels and nerves. H,The os maxillare superius of the right
side. I, The os malse. K, The zygomatic process of the
temporal bone. L, The posterior extremity of the ossa
spongiosa. M, The posterior extremity of the vomer,
which forms the back part of the septum nasi. N, The
pterygoid process of the right side of the sphenoid bone.
00, The foramina ovalia. PP, The foramina spi-
nalia. QQ, The passages of the internal carotid ar¬
teries. R, A hole between the point of each pars pe¬
trosa and cuneiform process of the occipital bone, which
is filled up with a ligamentous substance in the recent
subject. S, The passage of the left lateral sinus. T,
The posterior condyloid foramen of the left side. U,
The foramen mastoideum. V, The foramen magnum.
W, The inferior orbitar fissure. X, The glenoid ca¬
vity, for the articulation of the lower jaw. Y, The
squamous part of the temporal bone. Z, The mastoid
process, at the inner side of which is a fossa for the
posterior belly of the digastric muscle, a, The styloid
process, b, The meatus auditorius externus. c, The
left condyle of the occipital bone, d, The perpendi- Osteology,
cular occipital spine, ee, The inferior horizontal ridge v——v——
of the occipital bone, ff, The superior horizontal
ridge, which is opposite to the crucial ridge where the
longitudinal sinus divides to form the lateral sinuses,
ggg, The lambdoid suture, h, The left squamous
suture, i, The parietal bone.
Fig. 4. The Anterior Surface of the Ossa Nasi.
A, The upper part which joins the os frontis. B,
The under end, which joins the cartilage of the nose.
C, Their inner edge where they join each other.
Fig. 3. The Posterior Surface of the Ossa Nasi.
AA, Their cavity, which forms part of the arch of
the nose. BB, Their ridge or spine, which projects
a little to be fixed to the fore part of the septum na-
rium.
Fig. 6. The External Surface of the Os Maxillare
Superius of the left side.
A, The nasal process. B, The orbitar plate. C,
The unequal surface which joins the os malae. D, The
external orbitar hole. E, The opening into the nostril.
F, The palate plate. G, The maxillary tuberosity.
H, Part of the os palati. I, The two dentes incisores*
K, The dens caninus. L, The two small dentes mo¬
lares. M, The three large dentes molares.
Fig. 7. The Internal Surface of the Os Maxillare
Superius and Os Palati.
A, The nasal process. BB, Eminences for the con¬
nexion of the spongiosum inferius. D, The under
end of the lachrymal groove. E, The antrum maxillare.
F, The nasal spine, between which and B is the cavity
of the nostril. G, The palate plate. H, The orbitar
part of the os palati. I, The nasal plate. K, The
suture which unites the maxillary and palate bones.
L, The pterygoid process of the palate bone.
Fig. 8. The External Surface of the right Os Unguis,
A, The orbitar part. B, The lachrymal part. C,
The ridge between them.
Fig. 9. The Internal Surface of the right Os Unguis.
This side of the bones has a furrow opposite to the
external ridge j all behind this is irregular, where it
covers part of the ethmoidal cells.
Fig. 10. The External Surface of the left Os Malje.
A, The superior orbitar process. B, The inferior
orbitar process. C, The malar process. D, The zy¬
gomatic process. E, The orbitar plate. F, A pas¬
sage for small vessels into or out of the orbit.
Fig. 11. The Internal Surface of the left Os Mal^e.
A, The superior orbitar process. B, The inferior
orbitar process. C, The malar process. D, The zy¬
gomatic process. E, The internal orbitar plate or
process.
Fig. 12. The External Surface of the right Os Spon¬
giosum Inferius.
A, The anterior part. B, The hook-like process
for covering part of the antrum maxillare. C, A
small process which covers part of the under end of
the lachrymal groove. D, The inferior edge turned a
little outwards.
Fig,
ANATOMY.
. Fig. 13. The Internal Surface of the Os Spongiosum
Inferius.
A, The anterior extremity. B, The upper edge
which joins the superior maxillary and palate bones.
Fig. 14. The Posterior and External Surface of the
right Os Palati.
A, The orbitar process. B, The nasal lamella. C,
The pterygoid process. D, The palate process.
Fig. 15. The Anterior and External Surface of the
right Os Palati.
A, The orbitar process. B, An opening through
which the lateral nasal vessels and nerves pass. C, The
nasal lamella. D, The pterygoid process. E, The
posterior edge of the palate process for the connexion
of the velum palati. F, The inner edge by which the
two ossa palati are connected.
Fig. 16. The right side of the Vomer.
A, The upper edge which joins the nasal lamella of
the ethmoid bone and the middle cartilage of the nose.
B, The inferior edge which is connected to the supe¬
rior maxillary and palate bones. C, The superior and
posterior part which receives the processus azygos of
the sphenoid bone.
Fig. 17. The Maxilla Inferior.
A, The chin. B, The base and left side. C, The
angle. D, The coronoid process. E, The condyloid
process. F, The beginning of the inferior maxillary
canal of the right side, for the entry of the nerve and
blood vessels. G, The termination of the left canal.
H, The two dentes incisores. I, The dens caninus.
K, The two small molares. L, The three large mo-
lares.
Fig. ibi The dilfei’ent classes of the Teeth.
I, 2, A fore and back view of the two anterior
dentes incisores of the lower jaw. 3, 4, Similar teeth
of the upper jaw. 5, 6, A fore and back view of the
dentes canini. 7, 8, The anterior dentes molares.
9, 10, 11, The posterior dentes molares. 12, 13, 14,
15, 16, Unusual appearances in the shape and size of
the teeth.
Fig. 19. The External Surface of the Os Hyoides.
A, The body. BB, The cornua. CC, The ap¬
pendices.
Plate XXIV.
Fig. 1. A Posterior View of the Sternum and Cla¬
vicles, with the Ligament connecting the Clavicles
to each other.
a, The posterior surface of the sternum, bb, The
broken ends of the clavicles, cccc, The tubercles near
the extremity of each clavicle, d, The ligament con¬
necting the clavicles.
Fig. 2. A Fore View of the Left Scapula, and of
a half of the Clavicle, with their Ligaments,
a, The spine of the scapula. b, The acromion,
c, The inferior angle, d, Inferior costa, e, Cervix,
f, Glenoid cavity, covered with cartilage for the arm
bone, gg, The capsular ligament of the joint, h, Co¬
racoid process, i, The broken end of the clavicle.
k? Its extremity joined to the acromion. 1, A liga¬
ment coming out single from the acromion to the co¬
racoid process, m, A ligament coming out single from
the acromion, and dividing it into two, which are fixed
to the coracoid process.
Fig. 3. The Joint of the Elbow' of the Left Arm,
with the Ligaments.
a, The os humeri, b, Its internal condyle, cc, The
two prominent parts of its trochlea appearing through
the capsular ligament, d, The ulna, e, The radius,
f, The part of the ligament including the head of the
radius.
Fig. 4. The Bones of the Right Hand, with the
Palm in view.
a, The radius, b, The ulna, c, The scaphoid bone
of the carpus, d, The os lunare. e, The os cunei-
forme. f, The os pisiforme. g, Trapezium, h, Tra-
pezoides. i, Capitatum. k, Unciforme. 1, The four
metacarpal bones of the fingers, m, The first phalanx,
n, The second phalanx. 0, The third phalanx, p, The
metacarpal bone of the thumb. q, The first joint,
r, The second.
Fig. 5. The Posterior View of the Bones of the Left
Hand.
The explication of Fig. 4. serves for this figure ; the
same letters pointing out the same bones, though in a
different view.
Fig. 6. The Upper extremity of the Tibia, with the
Semilunar Cartilages of the Joint of the Knee, and
some Ligaments. ,
a, The strong ligament which connects the rotula to
the tubercle of the tibia, bb, The parts of the extre¬
mity of the tibia, covered with cartilage, which appear
within the semilunar cartilages, cc, The semilunar
cartilages, d, The two parts of what is called the
cross ligament.
Fig. 7. The Posterior ^iew of the Joint of the Right
Knee.
a, The os femoris cut. b, Its internal condyle,
c, Its external condyle, d, The back part of the tibia,
e, The superior extremity of the fibula, f, The edge
of the internal semilunar cartilage, g, An oblique li¬
gament. h, A larger perpendicular ligament. 1, A
ligament connecting the femur and fibula.
Fig. 8. The Anterior View of the Joint of the Right
Knee.
b, The internal condyle, c, Its external condyle,
d, The part of the os femoris, on which the patella
moves, e, A perpendicular ligament, ff, The two
parts of the crucial ligaments, gg, The edges of the
two moveable semilunar cartilages. b, The tibia,
i, The strong ligamenfctof the patella, k, The back part
of it where the fat has been dissected away. 1, The
external depression, m, The internal one. n, The cut
tibia.
Fig. 9. A View of the Inferior Part of the Bones of
the Right Foot.
a, The great knob of the os calcis. b, A promi¬
nence on its outside, c, The hollow' for the tendons,
nerves, and blood vessels, d, The anterior extremity
of the os calcis. e, Part of the astragalus, f, Its
head covered with cartilage, g, The internal promi¬
nence
iap. I. ANA
eology. nence of the os naviculare. h, The os cuboides.
-Y—i, The os cuneiforme internum ; k,—Medium ; 1,—
Externum, m, The metatarsal bones of the four les¬
ser toes, n, The first—o, The second—p, The third
phalanx of the four lesser toes, q, The metatarsal
bones of the great toe. r, Its first—s, Its second
joint.
Fig. io. The Inferior Surface of the two large Sesa¬
moid Bones at the first joint of the Great Toe.
Fig. ii. The Superior View of the Bones of the
Right Foot.
a, b, as in fig. 9. c, The superior head of the astra¬
galus. d, &c. as in fig. 9.
Fig. 12. The View of the Sole of the Foot, with its
Ligaments.
a, The great knob of the os calcis. b, the hollow
for the tendons, nerves, and blood-vessels, c, The
sheaths of the flexores pollicis and digitorum longi
opened, d, The strong cartilaginous ligament support¬
ing the head of the astragalus, e, h, Two ligaments
which unite into one, and are fixed to the metatarsal
bone of the great toe. f, A ligament from the knob
of the os calcis to the metatarsal bone of the little toe.
g, A strong triangular ligament, which supports the
' O M Y. 207
bones of the tarsus, i, The ligaments of the joints of Osteology,
the five metatarsal bones. v. , —>
Fig. 13. a, The head of the thigh-bone of a child,
b, The ligamentum rotundum connecting it to the
acetabulum, c, The caspular ligament of the joint
with its arteries injected, d, The numerous vessels
of the mucilaginous gland injected.
Fig. 14. The Back View of the Cartilages of the
Larynx, with the Os Hyoides.
a, The posterior part of the base of the os hyoides.
bb, Its cornua, c, The appendix of the right side.
d, A ligament sent out from the appendix of the left
side, to the styloid process of the temporal bone.
e, The union of the base with the left cornua, ff, The
posterior sides of (g) the thyroid cartilages, hh, Its
superior cornua, ii, Its inferior cornua, k, The cricoid
cartilage. 11, The arytenoid cartilages, m, The entry
into the lungs, named glottis. n, The epiglottis.
00, The superior cartilages of the trachea, p, Its li¬
gamentous back part.
Fig. 15. The Superior Concave Surface of the Sesa¬
moid Bones at the first joint of the Great Toe,
with their Ligaments.
a, Three sesamoid bones, b, The ligamentous sub¬
stance in which they are formed.
CHAP. II. OF THE SOFT PARTS IN GENERAL.
OF THE COMMON INTEGUMENTS WITH THEIR APPENDAGES j
AND OF THE MUSCLES.
ANATOMICAL writers usually proceed to a de¬
scription of the muscles after having finished the osteo-
logy; but we shall deviate a little from the common
method, with a view to describe every thing clearly
and distinctly, and to avoid a tautology which would
otherwise be unavoidable. All the parts of the body
are so intimately connected with each other, that it
seems impossible to convey a just idea of any one of
them, without being in some measure obliged to say
something of others j and on this account we wish to
mention in this place the names and situation of the
principal viscera of the body, that when mention is
hereafter made of any one of them in the course of the
w’ork, the reader may at least know where they are
placed.
After this little digression, the common integuments,
and after them the muscles, will be described ; we then
propose to enter into an examination of the several vis¬
cera, and their different functions. In describing the
brain, occasion will be taken to speak of the nerves and
animal spirits. The circulation of the blood will fol¬
low the anatomy of the heart, and the secretions and
other matters will be introduced in their proper places.
The body is divided into three great cavities. 01
these the uppermost is formed by the bones of the cra¬
nium, and encloses the brain and cerebellum.
The second is composed of the vertebras of the back,
the sternum, and true ribs, with the additional assist¬
ance of muscles, membranes, and common integuments,
and is called the thorax.—It contains the heart and
lungs.
The third, and inferior cavity, is the abdomen. It
is separated from the thorax by means of the diaphragm,
and is formed by the lumbar vertebrae, the os sacrum,
the ossa innominata, and the false ribs, to which we
may add the peritonaeum, and a variety of muscles.
This cavity encloses the stomach, intestines, omentum or
cawl, liver, pancreas, spleen, kidneys, urinary bladder,
and parts of generation.
Under the division of common integuments are usu¬
ally included the epidermis, or scarf-skin, the reticulum
mucosum of Malpighi, the cutis, or true skin, and the
membrana adiposa. The hair and nails, as well as the
sebaceous glands, may be considered as appendages to
the skin.
Sect. I. Of the Skin.
§ 1. Of the Scarf-Skin.
The epidermis, cuticula, or scarf-skin, is a fine, trans- cutic^,
parent, and insensible pellicle, destitute of nerves and
blood vessels, which invests the body, and everywhere
covers the true skin. This scarf-skin, which seems to be
very simple, appears, when examined with a microscope,
to be composed of several laminte or scales which are in¬
creased by pressure, as we may observe in the hands
and feet, where it is frequently much thickened, and be¬
comes perfectly callous. It seems to adhere to the cu¬
tis by a number of very minute filaments, but may ea¬
sily be separated from it by heat, or by maceration in
water. Some anatomical writers have supposed that it
2o8
ANATOMY.
Part I
Of the ia formed by a moisture exhaled from the whole surface
Intosju- of the body, which gradually hardens when it conies
men is, Sec, contact with the air. They were perhaps induced
to adopt this opinion, by observing the speedy regene¬
ration of this part of the body when it has been by any
means destroyed, it appearing to be renewed on all parts
of the surface at the same time ; whereas other parts
which have been injured, are found to direct their
growth from their circumference only towards their
centre. But a demonstrative proof that the epidermis
is not a fluid hardened by means of the external air, is,
that the foetus in utero is found to have this covering.
Leeuwenhoek supposed its formation to he owing to the
expansion of the extremities of the excretory vessels,
which are found every where upon the surface of the
true skin. Kuysch attributed its origin to the nervous
papillae of the skin ; and Heister thinks it probable,
that it may be owing both to the papillae and the ex¬
cretory vessels. The celebrated Morgagni, on the o-
*Adversar.the? hand, contends*, that it is nothing more than the
Anai. n. surface of the cutis, hardened and rendered insensible
VCr 2 by the liquor amnii in utero and by the pressure of the
air. This is a subject, however, on which we can ad¬
vance nothing with certainty.
The cuticle is pierced with an infinite number of
pores, or little holes, which afford a passage to the hairs,
sweat, and insensible perspiration, and likewise to warm
water, mercury, and whatever else is capable of be¬
ing taken in by the absorbents of the skin. The lines
which we observe on the epidermis belong to the true
skin. The cuticle adjusts itself to them, but does not
form them.
§ 2. Of the Rete Mucosum.
Hete mu- Between the epidermis and cutis we meet with an
cosaw, appearance to which Malpighi, who first described it,
gave the name of rete mucosumi supposing it to be of a
membranous structure, and pierced with an infinite num¬
ber of pores j but the fact is, that it seems to be nothing
more than a mucous substance which may be dissolved
by macerating it in water, while the cuticle and cutis
preserve their texture.
The colour of the body is found to depend on the co¬
lour of this rete mucosum j for in negroes it is observed
to be perfectly black, whilst the true skin is of the or¬
dinary colour.
The blisters which raise the skin when burnt or scald¬
ed, have been supposed by some to be owing to a rare¬
faction of this mucus; but they are more probably oc¬
casioned by an increased action of the vessels of the part,
together with an afflux and effusion of the thinner parts
of the blood.
§ 3* Q/' ^ie Cutis, or True Skin.
Cutis.. ^'he cutis is composed of fibres closely compacted to¬
gether, as we may observe in leather which is the pre¬
pared skin of animals. These fibres form a thick net¬
work, which everywhere admits the filaments of nerves,
and an infinite number of blood-vessels and lympha¬
tics.
The cutis, when the epidermis is taken off, is found
to have, throughout its whole surface, innumerable pa¬
pillae, which appear like very minute granulations, and
seem to be calculated to receive the impressions of the
touch, being the most easily observed where the sense Of the
of feeling is the most delicate, as in the palms of the tntegn-
hands and on the fingers. mewts, &(|
These papillae are supposed by many anatomical
writers to be continuations of the pulpy substance of
nerves, whose coats have terminated in the cellular tex¬
ture of the skin. The great sensibility of these papillae
evidently proves them to be exceedingly nervous ; but
surely the nervous fibrillse of the skin are of themselves
scarcely equal to the formation of the papillae, and it
seems to be more probable that they are formed like the
rest of the cutis.
These papillae being described, the uses of the epider¬
mis and the reticulum mucosum will be more easily un¬
derstood j the latter serving to keep them constantly
moist 5 while the former protects them from the exter¬
nal air, and modifies their too great sensibility.
§ 4. Of the Glands of the Skin.
In different parts of the body we meet, within the The seb^
substance of the skin, with certain glands or follicles,ceoBS
which discharge a fat and oily humour that serves to8lauds’
lubricate and soften the skin. When the fluid they se¬
crete has acquired a certain degree of thickness, it ap¬
proaches to the colour and consistence of suet j and from
this appearance they have derived their name of sebace¬
ous glands. They are found in the greatest number in
the nose, ear, nipple, axilla, groin, scrotum, vagina, and
prepuce.
Besides these sebaceous glands, we read, in anatomi¬
cal books, of others that are described as small spherical
bodies placed in all parts of the skin, in much greater
abundance than those just now mentioned, and named
miliary, from their supposed resemblance to millet seed.
Steno, who first described these glands, and Malpighi,
Ruyscb, Verheyen, Winslow, and others, who have
adopted his opinions on this subject, speak of them as
having excretory ducts, that open on the surface of the
cuticle, and distil the sweat and matter of insensible per¬
spiration : and yet, notwithstanding the positive manner
in which these pretended glands have been spoken of,
we are now sufficiently convinced that their existence
is altogether imaginary.
§ 5* Q.f the Insensible Rerspiration and Sweat. ^
The matter of insensible perspiration, or in otherlnsfensiW* '
words, the subtile vapour that is continually exhaling
from the surface of the body, is not secreted by anytl0Q'
particular glands, but seems to be derived wholly from
the extremities of the minute arteries that are every¬
where dispersed through the skin. These exhaling ves¬
sels are easily demonstrated in the dead subject, by
throwing water into the arteries; for then small drops
exude from all parts of the skin, and raise up the cuti¬
cle, the pores of which are closed by death : and in
the living subject, a looking-glass placed against the
skin, is soon obscured by the vapour. Bidloo fancied
lie had discovered ducts leading from the cutis to the
cuticle, and transmitting this fluid j hut in this he was
mistaken.
When the perspiration is by any means increased,
and several drops that were insensible when separate,
are united together and condensed by the external air,
they form upon the skin small but visible drops called
sweat
hap. II. ANA
Of the sweat (n). This particularly happens after much ex-
[ategu- ercise, or whatever occasions an increased determina-
ints, Scc-tion of fluids to the surface of the body; a greater
v quantity of perspirable matter being in such cases car¬
ried through the passages that are destined to convey it
yo off.
i hether It has been disputed, indeed, whether the insensible
6'llndthe perspiration and sweat are to be considered as one and
meordif-^16 same excretion, differing only in degree ; or whe-
rent ex- tl161’ they are twm distinct excretions derived from dif-
etion*. ferent sources. In support of the latter opinion, it has
been alleged, that the insensible perspiration is agree¬
able to nature, and essential to health, whereas sweat
may be considered as a species of disease. But this ar¬
gument proves nothing ; and it seems probable, that
both the insensible vapour and the sweat are exhaled in
a similar manner, though they differ in quantity, and
probably in their qualities ; the former being more lim¬
pid, and seemingly less impregnated with salts than
the latter; at any rate we may consider the skin as an
emunctory through which the redundant water, and
So sometimes the other more saline parts of the blood, are
wir Oics. carried ofl. But the insensible perspiration is not con¬
fined to the skin only—a great part of what we are
constantly throwing off in this way is from the lungs.
The quantity of fluid exhaled from the human body "by
this insensible perspiration is very considerable. Sanc-
torius (o), an Italian physician, who indefatigably pas¬
sed a great many years in a series of statical experi¬
ments, demonstrated long ago, what has been confirmed
by later observations, that the quantity of vapour ex¬
haled from the skin and from the surface of the lungs,
amounts nearly to j-Sths of the aliment we take in.
So that if in the warm climate of Italy a person eats
and drinks the quantity of eight pounds in the course
of a day, five pounds of it will pass off by insensible
perspiration, while three pounds only will be evacuated
by stool, urine, saliva, &c. But in countries where the
degree of cold is greater than in Italy, the quantity of
perspired matter is less: in some of the more northern
climates, it being found not to equal the discharge by
urine. It is likewise observed to vary according to the
season of the year, and according to the constitution,
age, sex, diseases, diet, exercise, passions, &c. of dif¬
ferent people.
T O M Y.
From what has been said on this subject, it will be
easily conceived, that this evacuation cannot be either
much increased or diminished in quantity without af-ll‘eiUs> Scft-
fecting the health. ——v-—j
The perspirable matter and the sweat are in some
measure analogous to the urine, as appears from their
taste and saline nature (p). And it is worthy of ob¬
servation, that when either of these secretions is increa¬
sed in quantity, the other is diminished ; so that they
who perspire the least, usually pass the greatest quan¬
tity ol urine, and vice versa.
§6. Of the Nails. ^
The nails are of a compact texture, hard and trans-Tbe aait&.
parent like horn. Their origin is still a subject of dis¬
pute. Malpighi supposed them to be formed by a con¬
tinuation of the papillae of the skin : Ludwig, on the
other hand, maintained, that they were composed of
the extremities of blood-vessels and nerves. Both these
opinions are now deservedly rejected.
They seem to possess many properties in common
with the cuticle ; like it they are neither vascular nor
sensible, and when the cuticle is separated from the
true skin by maceration or other means, the nails come
away with it.
They appear to be composed of different layers, of
unequal size, applied one over the other. Each layer
seems to be formed of longitudinal fibres.
In each nail we may distinguish three parts, viz. the
root, the body or middle, and the extremity. The
root is a soft, thin, and white substance, terminating in
the form of a crescent; the epidermis adheres very
strongly to this part; the body of the nail is broader,
redder, and thicker, and the extremity is of still great¬
er firmness.
The nails increase from their roots, and not from
their upper extremity.
Their principal use is to cover and defend the ends
of the fingers and toes from external injury.
§ 7. Of the Hair.
The hairs, which from their being generally known, The hair,
do not seem to require any definition, arise from di¬
stinct capsules or bulbs seated in the cellular membrane
under the skin (q). Some of these bulbs enclose se¬
veral
2C9
Of the
Integu-
(n) Leeuwenhoek asserts, that one drop of sweat is formed by the conflux of 15 drops of perspirable va¬
pour.
(o) The insensible perspiration is sometimes distinguished by the name of this physician, who was born in the
territories of Venice, and was afterwards a professor in the university of Padua. After estimating the aliment he
took in, and the sensible secretions and discharges, he was enabled to ascertain with great accuracy the weight or
quantity of insensible perspiration by means of a statical chair which he contrived for this purpose ; and from his
experiments, which were conducted with great industry and patience, he was led to determine what kind of solid
or liquid aliment increased or diminished it. From these experiments he formed a system, which he published at
Venice in 1614, in the form of aphorisms, under the title of Ars de Medicina Statica.
(p) Minute crystals have been observed to shoot upon the clothes of men who work in class-houses. Haller.
Elem. Phys.
(d) Malpighi, and after him the celebrated Buyscb, supposed the hairs to be continuations of nerves, being
of opinion that they originated from the papillae of the skin, which they considered as nervous; and as a corro¬
borating proof of what they advanced, they argued the pain we feel in plucking them out: but later anatomists
seem to have rejected this doctrine, and consider the hairs as particular bodies, not arising from the papillae (for
w the parts where the papilke abound most there are no hairs), but from bulbs or capsules, which are peculiar to
them.
Vol. II. Part I.
D d
f
ANATOMY. Part I
Of the veral hairs. They may be observed at the roots of the
Integu- hairs which form the beard or whiskers ot a cat.
ments, &c. The hairs, like the nails, grow only from below by
’ a regular propulsion from their root, where they receive
their nourishment. Their bulbs, when viewed with a
microscope are lound to be of various shapes. In the
head and scrotum they are roundish } in the eyebrows
they are oval 5 in the other parts of the body they are
nearly of a cylindrical shape. Each bulb seems to con¬
sist of- twTo membranes, between which there is a certain
quantity of moisture. Within the bulb the hair sepa¬
rates into three or four fibrillae the bodies of the hairs,
which are the parts without the skin, vary in softness
and colour according to the difference of climate, age,
or temperament of body (r).
Their general use in the body does not seem to be
absolutely determined 5 but hairs in particular parts, as
on the eyebrows and eyelids, are destined for particular
uses, which will be mentioned when those parts are de¬
scribed.
§ 8* Of the Cellular Membrane and Fat.
Cellular The cellular membrane is found to invest the most
membiaue. m|nll^e £t,res We are able to trace j so that, by modern
physiologists, it is very properly considered as the
universal connecting medium of every part of the
body.
It is composed of an infinite number of minute cells
united together, and communicating with each other.
The two diseases peculiar to this membrane are proofs
of such a communication ; for in the emphysema all its
cells are filled with air, and in the anasarca they are
universally distended with water. Besides these proofs
of communication from disease, a familiar instance of it
may be observed amongst butchers, who usually punc¬
ture this membrane, and by inflating it with air add to
5^ the good appearance of their meat.
Fat, The cells of this membrane serve as reservoirs to the
oily part of the blood, or Fat, which seems to be depo¬
sited in them, either by transudation through the coats
of the arteries that ramify through these cells, or by
particular vesssls, continued from the ends of arteries.
These cells are not of a glandular structure, as Mal¬
pighi and others after him have supposed. The fat is
absorbed and carried hack into the system by the lym¬
phatics. The great waste of it in many diseases, parti¬
cularly in the consumption, is a sufficient proof that
such an absorption takes place.
The fulness and size of the body are in a great mea¬
sure proportioned to the quantity of fat contained in the
cells of this membrane.
In the living body it seems to be a fluid oil, which
concretes after death. In graminivorous animals, it is
found to he of a firmer consistence than in man.
The fat is not confined to the skin alone, being met
with everywhere in the interstices of muscles, in the
omentum, about tbe kidneys, at the basis of the heart,
in the orbits, &c.
The chief uses of the fat seem to be to afford mois- of the
ture to all the parts with which it is connected ; to Muscles,
facilitate the action of the muscles •, and to add to the
beauty of the body, by making it everywhere smooth
and equal.
Sect. II. Of the Muscles.
The muscles are the organs of motion. The parts s5
that are usually included under this name consist of di¬
stinct portions of flesh, susceptible of contraction and
relaxation j the motions of which, in a natural and
healthy state, are subject to the will, and for this rea¬
son they are called voluntary muscles. But besides
these, there are other parts of the body that owe their
power of contraction to their muscular fibres ; thus the
heart is of a muscular texture, forming what is called
a hollow muscle ; and the urinary bladder, stomach, in¬
testines, &c. are enabled to act upon their contents,
merely because they are provided with muscular fibres.
These are called involuntary muscles, because their mo¬
tions are not dependent on the will. The muscles of
respiration being in some measure influenced by the
will, are said to have a mixed motion.
The names by which the voluntary muscles are di¬
stinguished, are founded on their size, figure, situation,
use, or the arrangement of their fibres, or their origin
and insertion. But besides these particular distinctions,
there are certain general ones that require to be noti¬
ced. Thus, if the fibres of a muscle are placed paral¬
lel to each other in a straight direction, they form what
is styled a rectilinear muscle \ if the fibres cross and
intersect each other, they constitute a compound mus¬
cle ; a radiated one, if the fibres are disposed in the
manner of rays $ or a penniform muscle, if, like tbe
plume of a pen, they are placed obliquely with respect
to the tendon.
Muscles that act in opposition to each other, are
called antagonistce; thus every extensor muscle has
a flexor for its antagonist, and vice versa. Mus¬
cles that concur in the same action are styled con-
genercs.
The muscles being attached to the bones, the latter
may be considered as levers that are moved in different
directions by the contraction of those organs.
That end of a muscle which adheres to the most
fixed part is usually called the origin, and that which
adheres to the more moveable pari, the insertion of the
muscle.
In every muscle we may distinguish two kinds of
fibres 5 tbe one soft, of a red colour, sensible, and irri¬
table, called fleshy fibres : the other of a firmer tex¬
ture, of a white glistening colour, insensible, without
irritability or the power of contracting, and named ten¬
dinous fibres. They are occasionally intermixed, but
the fleshy fibres generally prevail in the belly or middle
part of a muscle, and the tendinous ones in the extre¬
mities. If these tendinous fibres are formed into a
round
(r) The hairs likewise differ from each other, and may not be improperly divided into two classes ; one of
which may include the hair of the head, chin, pubes, and axillae ; and the other, the softer hairs, which are to
be observed almost everywhere on the surface of the body.
a-
wp.
II. A N A T
>f the roun^ slender cord, they form what is called the tendon
uscles. of the muscle *, on the other hand, if they are spread
-y—' into a broad flat surface, the extremity of the muscle is
styled aponeurosis.
The tendons of many muscles, especially when they
are long and exposed to pressure or friction in the
grooves formed for them in the bones, are surrounded
by a tendinous sheath or fascia, in which we sometimes
find a small mucous sac or bursa mucosa, which obviates
any inconvenience from friction. Sometimes we find
whole muscles, and even several muscles, covered by a
fascia of the same kind, that affords origin to many of
their fibres, dipping down between them, adhering to
the ridges of bones, and thus preventing them from
swelling too much when in action. The most remark¬
able instance of such a covering is the fascia lata of
the thigh.
Each muscle is enclosed by a thin covering of cellu¬
lar membrane, which has been sometimes improperly
considered as peculiar to the muscles, and described un¬
der the name of propria membrana musculosa. This
cellular covering dips down into the substance of the
muscle, connecting and surrounding the most minute
fibres we are able to demonstrate, and affording a sup¬
port to their vessels and nerves.
Leeuwenhoek fancied he had discovered, by means
of his microscope, the ultimate division of a muscle,
and that he could point out the simple fibre, which ap¬
peared to him to be a hundred times less than a hair;
but he was afterwards convinced how much he was
mistaken on this subject, and candidly acknowledged,
that what he had taken for a simple fibre was in fact a
bundle of fibres.
It is easy to observe several of these fascicula or bun¬
dles in a piece of beef, in which, from the coarseness ol
its texture, they are very evident.
The red colour which particularly distinguishes the
muscular or fleshy parts of animals, is owing to an
infinite number of blood-vessels, that are dispersed
through their substance. When we macerate the fibres
of a muscle in water, it becomes of a white colour like
all other parts of the body divested of their blood. The
blood-vessels are accompanied by nerves, and they are
both distributed in such abundance to these parts, that
in endeavouring to trace the course of the blood-vessels
in a muscle, it would appear to be formed altogether
by their ramifications } and in an attempt to follow the
branches of its nerves, they would be found to be equal
in proportion.
If a muscle is pricked or irritated, it immediately
contracts. This is called its irritable principle •, and
this irritability is to be considered as the characteristic
of muscular fibres j and may serve to prove their exist¬
ence in parts that are too minute to be examined by
the eye. This power, which disposes the muscles to
contract when stimulated, independent of the will, is
supposed to be inherent in them ; and is therefore na¬
med vis insita. This property is not to be confound¬
ed with elasticity, which the membranes and other
parts of the body possess in a greater or less degree
in common with the muscles 5 nor with sensibility,
for the heart, though the most irritable, seems to
be the least sensible of any of the muscular parts of the
body.
S6
the vis
ita.
O M Y. 211
After a muscular fibre has contracted, it soon returns
to a state of relaxation, till it is excited afresh, and
then it contracts and relaxes again. We may likewise
produce such a contraction, by irritating the nerve
leading to a muscle, although the muscle itself is not
affected.
This principle is found to be greater in small than
in large, and in young than in old, animals.
In the voluntary muscles these effects of contraction
and relaxation of the fleshy fibres are produced in obe¬
dience to the will, by what may be called the vis ner¬
vosa, a property that is not to be confounded with the
vis insita. As the existence of a vis insita different from
a vis nervea, was the doctrine taught by Dr Haller in
his Elem. Phys. but is at present called in question by
several, particularly Dr Monro, we think it necessary
to give a few objections, as stated in his Observations
on the Nervous System. 87
“The chief experiment (says the Doctor) which The vis
seems to have led Dr Haller to this opinion, is the wellnervea’
known one, that the heart and other muscles, after
being detached from the brain, continue to act spon¬
taneously, or by stimuli may be roused into action,
for a considerable length of time j and when it can¬
not be alleged, says Dr Haller, that the nervous
fluid is by the mind, or otherwise, impelled into the
muscle.
“ That in this instance, we cannot comprehend by
what power the nervous fluid or energy can be put in
motion, must perhaps be granted : But has Dr Haller
given a better explanation of the manner in which his
supposed vis insita becomes active ?
“ If it be as difficult to point out the cause of the
action of the vis insita as that of the action of the vis
nervea, the admission of that new power, instead of re¬
lieving, would add to our perplexity.
“ We should then have admitted, that two causes of
a different nature were capable of producing exactly the
same effect 5 which is not in general agreeable to the
laws of nature.
“ We should find other consequences arise from such
a hypothesis, which tend to weaken the credibility of
it. For instance, if in a sound animal the vis nervea
alone produces the contraction of the muscles, we will
ask what purpose the vis insita serves ? If both operate,
are we to suppose that the vis nervea, impelled by the
mind or living principle, gives the order, which the
vis insita executes, and that the nerves are the inter-
nuntii j and so admit two wise agents employed in every
the most simple action ? But instead of speculating far¬
ther, let us learn the effect of experiments, and endea¬
vour from these to draw plain conclusions.
“ 1. When I poured a solution of opium in water
under the skin of the leg ol a frog, the muscles, to the
surface of which it was applied, were very soon depri¬
ved of the power of contraction. In like manner, when
I poured this solution into the cavity of the heart, by
opening the vena cava, the heart was almost instantly
deprived of its power of motion, whether the experi¬
ment w'as performed on it fixed in its place, or cut out
of the body.
“ 2. I opened the thorax of a living frog ; and then
tied or cut its aorta, so as to put a stop to the circula¬
tion of its blood.
n <1 2 “ I
D <1 2
212
ANATOMY.
Fart ]
“ I then opened the vena cava, and poured the so¬
lution of opium into the heart} and found, not only that
this organ was instantly deprived of its powers of action,
but that in a few minutes the most distant muscles ot
the limbs were extremely weakened. Yet this weak¬
ness was not owing to the want of circulation, for the
frog could jump about for more than an hour after the
heart was cut out.
“ In the first of these two experiments, we observe
the supposed vis insita destroyed by the opium 5 in the
latter the vis nervea: for it is evident that the limbs
were affected by the sympathy of the brain, and of the
nervous system in general, with the nerves of the heart.
“ 3. When the nerve of any muscle is first divided
by a transverse section, and then burnt with a hot iron,
or punctured with a needle, the muscle in which it ter¬
minates contracts violently, exactly in the same man¬
ner as when the irritation is applied to the fibres of
the muscle. But when the hot iron or needle is confined
to the nerve, Dr Haller himself must have admitted,
that the vis nervea, and not the vis insita, was excited.
But here I would ask two questions.
“ First, Whether we do not as well understand how
the vis nervea is excited when irritation is applied to the
muscle as when it is applied to the trunk of the nerve,
the impelling powrer of the mind seeming to be equally
wanting in both cases ?
“ Secondly, If it appears that irritation applied to
the trunk of a nerve excites the vis nervea, why should
we doubt that it can equally well excite it when applied
to the small and very sensible branches and terminations
of the nerve in the muscle ?
“ As therefore, it appears that the supposed vis in¬
sita is destroyed or excited by the same means as the
vis nervea j nay, that when, by the application of
opium to the heart of a fi’og, after the aorta is cut and
the cix-culation intei’rupted, we have destroyed the vis
insita, the vis nervea is so much extinguished, that the
animal cannot act with the distant muscles of the
limb j and that these afterwards grow very toi'pid, or
lose much of their supposed vis insita $ it seems clear¬
ly to follow, that there is no just ground for supposing
that any other principle produces the contraction of a
muscle.”
The vis nervosa, or operation of the mind, if we
may so call it, by which a muscle is brought into con¬
traction, is not inherent in the muscle like the vis in¬
sita, neither is it perpetual, like this latter property.
After long continued or violent exercise, for example,
the .voluntary muscles become painful, and at length
incapable of further action j whereas the heart and
other involuntary muscles, the motions of which de¬
pend solely on the vis insita, continue through life in a
constant state of action, without any inconvenience or Qf t.
waste of this inherent principle. Muscle*
The action of the vis nervosa on the voluntary v«—-y—.
muscles constitutes what is called muscular motion j
a subject that has given xise to a variety of hypo¬
theses, many of them ingenious, but none of them sa¬
tisfactory.
Boi’elli and some others have undertaken to explain
the cause of contraction, by supposing that every mus¬
cular fibx-e forms as it were a chain of very minute blad¬
ders, while the nerves which are distributed through
the muscle, bring with them a supply of animal spirits,
which at our will fill these bladders, and by increasing
their diameter in width, shorten them, and of course
the whole fibre.
Borelli supposes the bladders to be of a rhomboidal
shape j Bernouilli, on the other hand, contends that
they are oval. Our countryman, CowTper, fancied he
had filled them with mercury j the cause of this mistake
was probably owing to the mercury’s insinuating itself
into some of the lymphatic vessels. The late ingenious
Mr Elliot undertook to account for the phenomena of
muscular motion on principles very different from those
just now mentioned. He supposed that a dephlogistica-
ted state of the blood is requisite for muscular action,
and that a communication of phlogiston to the blood is
a necessary effect of such action.
We know that the muscular fibre is shortened, and
that the muscle itself swells when in action 5 but how
these phenomena ai-e produced, we are unable to de¬
termine. We likewise know that the nerves are essen¬
tial to muscular motion j for upon dividing or making
a ligature round the nerve leading to a muscle, the lat¬
ter becomes incapable of motion. A ligature made
on the artery of a muscle produces a similar effect: a
proof this, that a x’egular supply of blood is also equal¬
ly necessary to muscular motion. The cause of palsy is
usually not to be sought for in the muscle affected, but
in the nerve leading to that muscle, or that part of the
brain or spinal marrow from which the nerve derives
its origin.
Of the particular Muscles.
As the enumeration and description of the particular
muscles must be dry and unentertaining to the genera¬
lity of x-eaders, yet cannot be altogether omitted in a
work of this nature, it appeared eligible to throw this
part of the subject into the form of a table ; in which
the name, origin, insertion, and principal use of each
muscle will be found described in few words, and occa¬
sionally its etymology, when it is of Greek derivation
or difficult to be understood.
A TABLF.
r
C mp. IT.
ANATOMY,
A TABLE of the MUSCLES, arranged according to their Situation.
21 3
Of the
a? uscks.
[y. B- This table does not include all the muscles of the body; those belonging to the eyes, internal ear, intestinum rectum, and
the male and female organs of generation, being described in other parts of the work. The reader will be pleased to observe like¬
wise, that although the muscles (a few only excepted) are in pairs, mention is here made only of the muscles of one side].
Muse L E s situated
under the integu¬
ments of the era
nium.
Name.
Origin.
Insertion.
Use.
of the
eyelids,
J. Occipito-frontalis. From the transverse Into the skin of the To pull the skin of
ridge of the os oc- eyebrows. the head back-
cipitis, wards, and to raise
the eyebrows and
skin of the fore¬
head.
2. Corrugator super- From above the join- Into the inner part of To draw the eye-
cilii. ing of the os iron- the occipito-fronta- brows towards each
tis, os nasi, and os lis. other, and to wrin-
maxillare. kle the forehead.
I. Orbicularis palpe- From around the edge Into the nasal process To shut the eye.
brarum. of the orbit. of the os maxillare.
2. Levator palpebrse
superioris.
■    of the
external ear, I. Attollens auricu-
lam.
From the bottom of Into the cartilage of To open the eye.
the orbit, near the the upper eyelid,
optic foramen.
From the tendon of Into the upper part To raise the ear
the occipito fron- of the ear.
talis near the os
temporis.
2. Anterior auriculae. From near the back Into an eminence be- To
partof the zygoma. hind the helix.
3. Retrahentes (s) au¬
riculae.
of the
From the outer and Into the convex part
back part of the of the concha,
root of the mastoid
process.
raise this emi¬
nence, and to pull
it forwards.
To stretch the con¬
cha, and puli the
ear backwards.
cartilages of the
ear, I. Tragicus.
2. Anti-tragicus.
3. Transversus auri¬
culae.
4. Helicis major.
5. Helicis minor.
From the outer and
middle part of the
concha, near the
tragus.
From the root of the
inner part of the
helix.
From the upper part
of the concha.
From the upper, an¬
terior, and acute
part of the helix.
From the lower and
fore part of the he¬
lix.
Into the upper part To depress the con-
of the tragus.
Into the upper part
of the anti-tragus.
Into the inner part of
the helix.
Into the cartilage of
the helix, a little
above the tragus.
Into the helix, near
the fissure in its car¬
tilage.
cha, and pull the
point of the tragus
a little outwards.
To dilate the mouth
of the concha.
To stretch the concha
and scapha, and
likewise to pull the
parts it is connect¬
ed with towards
each other.
To depress the upper
part of the helix.
To contract the fis¬
sure.
Muscles
(s) These are three small slender muscles. The inferior one is sometimes wanting.
214
Of the
Muscles. Muscles of the nose,
A
Name.
i. Compressor
naris.
N A T O M
Origin.
(t) From the outer part Into
of the root of the
alse nasi.
*— of the mouth
Y.
Insertion.
the nasal pro«
cess of the os max-
ill are, and anterior
extremity of the os
nasi.
and lips,
1. Levator labii supe- From the outer part Into the upper lip and
rioris, alseque nasi. of the orbitar pro- alae of the nose.
cess of the os max-
illare, and from the
nasal process ofthat
bone, where it joins
the os frontis.
2. Levator angulioris. From the os maxil- Into the orbicularis
lare superius, be- oris at the angle of
tween the orbitar the mouth,
foramen and the
first dens molaris.
From the os malse, Into the angle of the
near the zygomatic mouth,
suture.
Part I.
Use. of the
To straiten the nos- Muscles,
trils,and likewise to
corrugate the skin
of the nose.
To draw the upper lip
and skin of the nose
upwards and out¬
wards.
To raise the corner of
the mouth.
3. Zygomaticus ma
jor.
4. Zygomaticus mi¬
nor.
5. Buccinator.
6. Depressor labii
superioris, alaeque
nasi.
7. Depressor anguli
oris.
8. Depressor labii in-
ferioris.
9. Levator labii infe-
rioris.
10. Orbicularis oris
(u).
Immediatelyabovethe
origin of the zyg.
major.
From the alveoli of
the dentes molares
in the upper and
lower jaws.
From the os maxill.
super, immediately
above the gums of
thedentesincisores.
At the side of the
chin from the low¬
er edge of the max¬
illa inferior.
From the lower and
anterior part of the
maxilla inferior.
From near the gums
of the incisores and
caninus of the max¬
illa inferior.
Into the angle of the
mouth.
Into the angle of the
mouth.
Into the root of the
alse nasi and upper
lip.
Into the angle of the
mouth.
Into the under lip.
Into the under lip and
skin of the chin.
 of the low¬
er jaw, - - I. Temporalis.
From part of the os Into the coronoid pro-
bregmatis and os cess of the lower
frontis $ squamous jaw.
part of the os tem-
poris $ back part of
the os malae, and
the temporal pro¬
cess of the os sphe-
noides (v.)
To raise the angle of
the mouth, and
make the cheek
prominent as in
laughing.
To raise the angle of
the mouth oblique¬
ly outwards.
To contract the mouth
and draw the angle
of it outwards and
backwards.
To draw the alae nasi
and upper lip down¬
wards.
To draw the corner
of the mouth down¬
wards.
To draw the under
lip downwards and
somewhatoutwards.
To raise the under
lip and skin of the
chin.
To shut the mouth
by constringing the
lips.
To move the lower
jaw upwards.
2. Masseter
(1 j I be nose is affected by fibres of the occipito-frontalis, and by several muscles of the face; but this pair,
the compressores, is the only one that is proper to it.
(Uj Ibis muscle is in a great measure, it not wholly, formed by the buccinator, zygomatici, depressores, and
other muscles that move the bps. Its fibres surround the mouth like a ring.
(■v) Some of its fibres likewise have their origin from a strong fascia that covers the muscle and adheres to the
bone
M
C ap. II.
A N
Name.
2. Masseter (w).
3. Pterygoideus inter¬
ims.
4.Pterygoideus exter-
nus.
Muscles situated at
the fore part of the
neck, - - - i.Latissimuscolli(Y).
A T O
Origin.
From the malar pro¬
cess oftheos maxil-
lare, and the lower
edges of the os ma¬
la?, and of thezygo¬
matic process of the
os temporis.
Fromtheinner surface
of the outer wing of
the pterygoid pro¬
cess of the os sphe-
noides, and from
the process of the
os palati that helps
to form the ptery¬
goid fossa.
From the external ala
of the pterygoid
process,a small part
of the adjacent os
maxillare, and a
ridge in the tempo¬
ral process of the os
sphenoides.
Y.
Insertion.
Into the basis of the
coronoid process,
and that part of the
jaw which supports
that and the con¬
dyloid process.
Into the lower jaw on
its inner side and
near its angle.
215
Use. Of ttie
To raise and likewise Muscles,
to move the jaw a v" ■
little forwards and
backwards.
To raise the lower
jaw, and draw it a
little to one side.
Into the fore part of
the condyloid pro¬
cess of the lower
jaw, and likewise
of the capsular li¬
gament.
2. Mastoideus (z).
situated
From the cellular Into the side of the
membrane covering chin and integu-
the pectoral, del- ments of the cheek,
toid, and trapezius
muscles.
From the upper part Into the mastoid pro¬
of the sternum, and cess, and as far
from the upper and back as the lamb-
fore part of the doidal suture,
clavicle.
To move the jaw for¬
wards and to the
opposite side (x) ;
and at the sametime
to prevent the liga¬
ment of the joint
from being pinched.
To draw the cheeks
and skin of the face
downwards 5 and
when the mouth is
shut, to draw all
that partof the skin
to which it is con¬
nected below the
lower jaw upwards.
To move the head to
one side, or when
both muscles act, to
bend it forwards.
between the trunk
and the os hyoides, 1. Omo-hyoideus (a).
From the upper costa Into the basis of the To draw the os hyoi-
of the scapula near os hyoides. des in an oblique di-
itsniche j from part rection downwards,
of a ligament that
extends across this
niche, and some¬
times by a few fi¬
bres, from the co¬
racoid process.
2. Stern0-
bone round the whole circumference of its origin. When we remove this covering, we find the muscle of a semi¬
circular shape with its radiated fibres, converging and forming a strong middle tendon.
(w) So called from its use in chewing, its derivation being from (A.Buro-xepxi, manduco, “ to eat.”
(x) This happens when the muscle acts singly. When both act, the jaw is brought horizontally forwards.
(y) This broad and thin muscular expansion, which is situated immediately under the common integuments,
is by Winslow named musculus cutaneus. Galen gave it the name of TrhxTvtr/xx. (Vlahjsma myoides') ;
the etymology of which is from vrXxlvtrxos, dilatatio, and pvg, musculus, and uoos, forma.
(z) This, on account of its two origins, is by Albinus described as two distinct muscles, which he names
sterno-mastoideus and cleido masioideus.
(a) As this muscle does not always arise from the coracoid process, it seems to have been improperly named
coraca-
2x6
A N
Name.
\ 2. Sterno-hyoideus.
ATOMY.
3. Hyo-thyroideus.
4. Sterno-thyroideus.
5. Crico-thyroideus.
Muscles situated be¬
tween the os hy-
oides and lower
jaw, x. Digastricus (b).
2. Stylo-byoideus(c).
3. Mylo-hyoideus
0»)*
4. (e) Genio-hyoide-
us.
5. Genio-glossus.
6. Hyo-glossus (f).
7. Lingualis,
Origin.
From the cartilage of
the first rib, the in¬
ner and upper part
of the sternum, and
a small part of the
clavicle.
From part of the basis
and horn of the os
hyoides.
From between the
cartilages of the 1st
and 2d ribs, at the
upper and inner
part of the sternum.
From the anterior part
and side of the cri¬
coid cartilage.
Insertion.
Into the basis of the
os hyoides.
Part I
Use. of the
To draw the os hyoi- Mu»ele(.
des downwards. ' y—;
Into a rough oblique
line at the side of
the thyroid carti-
lage.
Immediately under
the hyo-thyroideus.
Into the lower part
and inferior horn of
the thyroid carti¬
lage.
To raise the thyroid
cartilage, ordepress
the os hyoides.
To pull the thyroid
cartilage down¬
wards.
To pull the cricoid
cartilage upwards
and backwards, or
the thyroid for¬
wards and down¬
wards.
Into the lower and To draw the lower
anterior part of the jaw downwards,
chin.
From a fossa at the
root of the mastoid
process, and like¬
wise from the os
hyoides.
From the basis of the Into the side and To draw the os hyoi-
styloid process.
From the inside of
the lower jaw, be¬
tween the last dens
molaris and the
chin.
From the inside of the
chin.
From the inside of the
chin.
Fx’om the horn, basis,
and appendix of the
os hyoides.
Laterally from the
root of the tongue.
fore part of the
os hyoides near its
base.
Into the basis of the
os hyoides.
Into the base of the
os hyoides.
Into the tongue and
basis of the os hy¬
oides.
Into the tongue late¬
rally.
Into the extremity of
the tongue.
des obliquely up¬
wards.
To move the os hy¬
oides forwards or
upwards.
To move the os hy¬
oides forwards or
upwards.
To move the tongue
in various direc¬
tions.
To draw the tongue
downwards and in¬
wards.
To shorten the tongue
and draw it back¬
wards.
8. Stylo-glossu*.
coraco-hyoides by Douglas and Albinus. Winslow calls it omo-hyoides, on account of its general origin from the
scapula.
(b) from and yarag {biventer), because it has two fleshy bellies with a middle tendon. This tendon passe*
through the stylo-hyoideus.
(c) In some subjects we meet with another muscle, which, from its having nearly the same origin, insertion,
and use as this, has been named stylo-hyoideus alter.
(d) So named from its arising near the dentes molares {fcvMt) and its being inserted into the os hyoides.
(e) From ys»£(#», mentum, “ the chin.”
(f) I root cornu, and yhvcrrx, lingua, “ the tongue.”
2
ANATOMY.
Name.
8. Stylo-glossus.
9. Stylo-pharyngaeus.
Origin.
From the styloid pro¬
cess, and sometimes
also from a liga¬
ment that extends
from thence to the
angle of the lower
jaw.
From the basis of the
styloid process.
Insertion. Use.
Into the side of the To move the tongue
tongue from the backwards and to
root to near its tip. one side.
10. Circumflexus pa-
lati.
11. Levator palati.
Muscles situated a-
bout the fauces, I. Palato-pbaryngse-
us.
2. Constrictor isthmi
faucium.
3. Azygos uvulae.
at the
From near the bony
part of the Eusta¬
chian tube, and
from the spinous
process of the os
sphenoides.
From the membranous
part of the Eusta¬
chian tube, and the
extremity of the os
petrosum.
From the lower and
anterior part of the
cartilaginousextre-
mity of the Eusta¬
chian tube (h)j the
tendinous expan¬
sion of the circum¬
flexus palati j and
the velum pendu¬
lum palati near the
basis and back part
of the uvula.
From near the basis of
the tongue lateral¬
ly-
From the end of the
suture that unites
the ossa palati.
Into the side of the
pharynx and poste¬
rior part of the thy¬
roid cartilage.
Into the semilunar
edge of the os pa¬
lati and the ve¬
lum pendulum pa¬
lati (g).
To raise the thyroid
cartilage and pha¬
rynx, and likewise
to dilate the latter.
To dilate and draw
the velum oblique¬
ly downwards.
Into the velum pendu- To pull the velum
lum palati. backwards.
Into the upper and "lo raise the pharynx
posteriorpart of the and thyroid carti-
thyroid cartilage. lagej or to pull the
velum and uvula
backwards and
downwards.
Into the velum pen- To raise the tongue
dulum palati, near and draw the velum
the basis and fore towards it (l).
part of the uvula.
Into the extremity of To shorten the uvula,
the uvula. and bring it for¬
wards and upwards
back part of the
pharynx, - 1. Constrictor pha- From the cuneiform Into the middle of the To move the pharynx
ryngis superior. process of the occi- pharynx.
process of the occi¬
pital bone j the pte¬
rygoid process of
the os sphenoides;
and from each jaw
near the last dens
molaris (k).
upwards and for¬
wards, and to com¬
press its upper part.
2. Constrictor
(g) This muscle in its course forms a round tendon, which, after passing over a kind of hook formed by the
inner plate of the pterygoid process of the sphenoid bone, expands into a tendinous membrane.
(h) The few fibres that arise from the Eustachian tube are described as a distinct muscle by Albinus, under
the name of salpingo pharyngceus. They serve to dilate the mouth of the tube.
(l) This muscle, and the palato-pharyngseus, likewise serve to close the passage into the fauces, and to carry
the food into the pharynx.
(k) The three orders of fibres here mentioned, with a few others derived from the tongue, have given occa¬
sion to Douglas to describe them as four distinct muscles, under the names of cephalo-pJutryngtEus^ mylo-phart/n-
gceus, ptery pharyngceuSy and glosso-pharyngceus.
Vol. II. Part I. t E e
217
Of the
Muscles.
24 8
Of the
Muscles.
ANATOMY.
Part I,
Muscles about the
glottis, - -
Name.
2. Constrictorpharyn-
gis medius (l).
3. Constrictor pharyn-
gis inferior (m).
1. Crico'arytsenoideus
lateralis.
2. Crico-arytsenoideus
posticus.
3. Arytsenoideus ob-
liquus.
4. Ary ttenoideus trans-
versus.
5. Thyreo-arytsenoi-
deus.
6. Arytseno-epiglotti-
deus.
7. Thyreo-epiglotti-
deus.
Origin.
From the horn and
appendix of the os
hyoides, and from
the ligament that
unites it with the
thyroid cartilage.
From the cricoid and
thyroid cartilages.
From the side of the
cricoid cartilage.
From the cricoid car¬
tilage posteriorly.
From the basis of one
of the arytsenoid
cartilages.
From one of the ary-
toenoid cartilages
laterally.
From the posterior
and under part of
the thyroid carti¬
lage.
From the upper part
of the arytaenoid
cartilage laterally.
From the thyroid cax*-
tilage.
Insertion. Use. of the
Into the middle of To draw the os hyoi- .Muscles,
the processus cu- des and pharynx
upwards, and to
compress the lat¬
ter.
neiformis of the oc¬
cipital bone, about
its middle, and be¬
fore the great fora¬
men.
Into the middle of To compress part of
the pharynx. the pharynx.
Into the basis of the
arytaenoid cartilage
laterally.
Into the basis of the
ary tten oid cartilage
posteriorly.
Near the extremity of
the other arytae¬
noid cartilage.
In the other arytae¬
noid cartilage late¬
rally.
Into the arytaenoid
cartilage.
To open the glottis.
To open the glottis.
To draw the parts it
is connected with
towards each other.
To shut the glottis.
To draw the arytae-r
noid cartilage for¬
wards.
at the fore
part of the neck
close to the verte¬
brae, - - 1. Rectus capitis in¬
terims major.
2. Rectus capitis in-
ternus minor.
3. Rectus capitis late¬
ralis.
4. Longus colli.
1 -
From the anterior ex¬
tremities of the
transverse proces¬
ses of the five low¬
ermost cervical ver¬
tebrae.
From the anterior and
upper part of the
first cervical ver¬
tebra.
From the anterior and
upper part of the
transverse process
of the first cervi¬
cal vertebra.
Within the thorax,
laterally from the
bodies of the three
uppermost dorsal
vertebrae j from the
basis and fore part
Into the side of the To move the epiglot-
epiglottis. tis outwards.
Into the side of the To pull the epiglot-
epiglottis. tis obliquely down¬
wards (n).
Into the fore part of To bend the head
the cuneiform pro- forwards,
cess of the os occi-
pitis.
Near the basis of the To assist the last de-
condyloid process scribed muscle,
of the os occipitis.
Into the os occipitis. To move the head to
opposite to the sty- one side,
lo-mastoid foramen.
Into the second cer- To pull the neck
vical vertebra an- one side (o).
teriorly.
to
(l) Douglas makes two muscles of this, the hyo-pharyngceus and syndesmo-pharyngtcus.
(m) The crico-pllaryngaeus and thyro-pharyngaeus of Douglas.
(n) When either this or the preceding, muscle acts with its fellow, the epiglottis is drawn directly downwards
upon the glottis.
(o) When both muscles act, the neck is drawn directly forwards.
/
(lap. II.
iftho
usclej
iW> .
. ..
Muscles at the fore
part of the abdo¬
men,
. A N A T O M Y.
Name. Origin. Insertion,
of the transverse
processes of the first
and second dorsal
vertebrae, and of
the last cervical
vertebra j and last¬
ly, from the ante¬
rior extremities of
the transverse pro¬
cesses of the 6th,
5th, 4th, and 3d
♦ cervical vertebrae.
1. Obliquus externus. From the lower edges Into thelineaalba (p),
of the eight infe- ossa pubis (q,), and
rior ribs near their spine of the ilium
cartilages. (r).
Use.
219
Of the
Muscles.
linea alba (s), and
fore part of the pu¬
bis.
2. Obliquus internus. From the spinous pro- Into the cartilages of
cess of the three all the false ribs,
lowermost lumbar
vertebrae, the back
part of the os sa¬
crum, the spine of
the ilium, and back
part of Fallopius’s
ligament (t).
3. Transversalis. From the cartilages Into the linea alba
of the seven infe- and cartilago ensi-
riorribsj theti’ans- formis.
verse processes of
the last dorsal, and
four upper lumbar
vertebrae; the in¬
ner part of Fallo¬
pius’s ligament and
the spine of the i-
lium.
To compress and sup¬
port the viscera, as¬
sist in evacuating
the faeces and urine,
draw down the
ribs, and bend the
trunk forwards or
obliquely to one
side.
Tk> assist the obliquus
externus.
To compress the ab¬
dominal viscera.
4. Rectus
(p) The linea alba is that tendinous expansion which reaches from the cartilago ensiformis to the os pubis, it
is formed by the interlacement of the tendinous fibx-es of the oblique and transverse muscles, and on this account
some anatomists have considered these as three digastric muscles.
(q) A little above the pubis the tendinous fibres of this muscle separate from each other, so as to form an
opening called the ring of the obliquus externus, and commonly, though improperly, the ring of the abdominal
muscles, there being no such aperture either in the transversafis or obliquus internus. This ring in the male subject
affords a passage to the spermatic vessels, and in the female to the round ligament of the uterus.
(r) From the anterior and upper spinous process of the ilium, this muscle is stretched tendinous to the os pubis,
and thus forms what is called by some Fallopius''s, and by others Poupart's ligament. The blood-vessels pass under
it to the thigh.
(s) The tendon formed by the upper part of the muscle in its way to the linea alba is divided into two layers.
The posterior layer runs under, and the anterior one over, the rectus muscle.
(f) From this part it detaches some fibres which extend downwards upon the spermatic chord, and lorm what
is described as the cremaster muscle.
t
E e 2
220
Of the
Muscles.
Muscles at the fore
part of the thorax,
that concur
in forming the tho¬
rax, -
A N A T O M Y.
Name. Origin. Insertion. Use.
4. Rectus abdominis. From the upper edge Into the cartilages of To compress the fore
of the pubis and the 5th, 6th, and part of the abdo-
the symphysis pu- 7th ribs, and the men, and to bend
bis. edge of the cartila- the trunk forwards,
go ensiformis (u).
From the anterior and Into the linea alba To assist the lower
upper part of the and inner edge of portion of the rec-
5. Pyramidalis (v).
pubis.
the rectus, com¬
monly about two
inches above the
pubis.
tus.
Part I
Of the
Mu»clei,
I. Pectoralis major.
2. Subclavius.
3. Pectoralis minor
(x).
4. Serratus magnus.
From the cartilagi¬
nous ends of the
5th and 6th ribs j
the sternum, and
anterior part of the
clavicle.
From the cartilage of
the first rib.
From the upper edges
of the 3d, 4th, and
5th ribs.
From the eight supe¬
rior ribs.
Into the upper and To draw the arm for-
inner part of the wards, or obliquely
os humeri (w). forwards.
Into the under sur- To move the clavicle
face of the cla- forwards and do wn-
vicle. wards, and to assist
in raising the first
rib.
Into the coracoid pro- To move the scapula
cess of the scapula. forwards and down¬
wards, or to elevate
the ribs.
Into the basis of the To bring the scapula
scapula. forwards.
1. Diaphragma (y).
2. Levatores costa- From the transverse Into the upper side of To move the ribs
rum. processesof the last each rib, near its upwards and out-
cervical, and the tuberosity. wards,
eleven upper dor¬
sal vertebrae.
3. Intercostales exter- From the lower edge Into the superior edge To elevate the ribs,
ni. of each upper rib. of each lower rib.
4. Intercostalesinter-
ni (a).
5. Sterno-costales
(u) The fibres of the, rectus are generally divided by three tendinous intersections. The two upper thirds of
this muscle passing between the tendinous layers of the obliquus internus, are enclosed as it were in a sheath j but
at its lower part we find it immediately contiguous to the peritonaeum, the inferior portion of the tendon of the
transversalis passing over the rectus, and adhering to the interior layer of the obliquns internus.
(v) This muscle is sometimes wanting.
(w) The fibres of this muscle pass towards the axilla in a folding manner, and with those of the latissimus
dorsi form the arm-pit.
(x) This and some other muscles derive their name of serratust from their arising by a number of tendinous
or fleshy digitations, resembling the teeth of a saw (serra). %
: (y) For a description of the diaphragm, see Chap. IV. Sect. IV.
(a) The origin, insertion, and use of the internal intercostals, are similar to those of the external. The read¬
er, however, will be pleased to observe, that the intercostales externi occupy the spaces between the ribs only
from the spine to their cartilages j from thence to the sternum, there being only a thin membrane, which is
spread over the intercostales interni j and that the latter, on the contrary, extend only from the sternum to the
angles of each rib.
The fibres of the external muscles run obliquely forwards $ those of the internal obliquely backwards. This
difference in the direction of their fibres induced Galen to suppose that they were intended for different uses ;
that the external intercostals, for instance, serve to elevate, and the internal ones to depress the ribs. Fallopius
seems to have been the first who ventured to dispute the truth of this doctrine, which has since been revived by
2 Boyle,
0 ip. IL
( the
M ole*.
ANATOMY. 221
Name. Origin. Insertion. Use. of the
5,Sterno-costales(B). From the cartilagoen- Into the cartilages of To depress the carti- M\u«le*.
siformis, and lower the 2d, 3d, 4th, lages of the ribs. ‘
and middle part of 5th, and 6th ribs,
the sternum.
Muscles at the back
part of the neck and
trunk, -
1. Trapezius (c), or From the middle of
cucullaris. theosoccipitis, and
the spinous proces¬
ses of the two in¬
ferior cervical, and
of all the dorsal
vertebrae (d).
2. Rhomboideus (e). From the spinouspro-
cesses of the three
Into the posterior half To move the scapula,
of the clavicle, part
of the acromion,
and the spine of
the scapula.
Into the basis of the To move the scapula
scapula. upwards and back¬
wards.
3. Latissimus dorsi.
lowermost cervical,
and of all the dor¬
sal vertebrae.
From part of thespine Into the os humeri, To draw the os hu-
of the os ilium, the
spinous processes of
the os sacrum and
lumbar vertebrae,
and of six or eight
of the dorsal ver¬
tebrae : also from
7
at the inner edgeof
the groove for lodg¬
ing the long head
of the biceps mus¬
cle.
men downwards
and backwards,and
to roll it upon its
axis.
the four inferior
false ribs near their
cartilages.
4. Serratus inferior From the spinous pro-
posticus. cesses of the two
lowermost dorsal,
and of three of
the lumbar verte¬
brae.
5. Levator scapulae. From the transverse
processes of the
four uppermost ver¬
tebrae colli.
6. Serratus superior From the lower part
posticus.
of the ligamentum
colli, the spinous
process ’of the low¬
ermost cervical ver¬
tebrae, and of the
two superior dorsal
vertebrae.
Into the lower edges To draw the ribs out-
of the three or four wards, downwards,
lowermost ribs near and backwards,
their cartilages.
Into the upper angle To move the scapula
of the scapula. forwards and up¬
wards.
Into the 2d, 3d, and To expand the tho-
4th ribs. rax.
7. Splenius
Boyle, and more lately still by Hamberger, whose theoretical arguments on this subject have been clearly
refuted by the experiments of Haller.
(b) These consist of four, and sometimes five distinct muscles on each side. Vesalius, and after him Douglas
and Albinus, consider them as forming a single muscle, which, on account of its shape, they named triangularis.
Verheyen, Winslow* and Haller, more properly describe them as so many separate muscles, which, on account
of their origin and insertion, they name sterno-costalcs.
(c) So named bv Riolanus, from on account of its quadrilateral shape. Columbus and others give
it the name of cucullaris, from its resemblance to a monk’s hood.
(d) The tendinous fibres of this muscle, united with those of its fellow in the nape of the neck, form what is
called the ligamentum colli.
(e) This muscle consists of two distinct portions, which are described as separate muscles by Albinus, ua*»,
der the names oiirhomboidctis minor and rhomboideus major.
2 22
Of the
Muscle*
ANATOMY.
Parti,
Name.
7. Splenius (F).
8. Complexus (o).
9. Trachelo-mastoide-
us (h).
10. Rectus capitis po¬
sticus major.
11. Rectus capitis po¬
sticus minor.
12. Obliquus superior
capitis.
13. Obliquus inferior
capitis.
14. Sacro-lumbalis
00.
i ?.Longisssimusdorsi
(k)*
Origin.
From the spinous pro¬
cesses of the four
or five uppermost
vertebrte of the
back, and of the
lowermost cervical
vertebra.
From the transverse
processes of the
four or five upper¬
most dorsal, and
of the six lower¬
most cervical ver¬
tebrae.
From the transverse
processes of the
first dorsal verte¬
bra and four or five
of the lowermost
cervical vertebrae.
From the spinous pro¬
cess of the second
cervical vertebra.
From the first verte¬
bra of the neck.
From the transverse
process of the first
cervical vertebra.
From the spinous pro¬
cess of the second
cervical vertebra.
From the back part
of the os sacrum,
spine of the ilium,
spinous processes,
and roots of the
transverse proces¬
ses of the vertebrae
of the loins.
The same as that of
the sacro-lumbalis.
Insertion.
Into the transverse
processes of the
two first cervical
vertebrae, the upper
and back part of
the mastoid pro¬
cess, and a ridge on
the os occipitis.
Into the os occipitis.
Into the mastoid pro¬
cess.
Into the os occipitis.
Into the os occipitis.
Into the os occipitis.
Into the transverse
process of the first
cervical vertebra.
Into the lower edge
of each rib.
Into the transverse
processes of the
dorsal vertebrae.
Use.
To move the head
backwards.
To draw the head
backwards.
To draw the head
backwards.
To extend the head
and draw it back¬
wards.
To assist the rectus
major.
To draw the head
backwards.
To draw the face to¬
wards the shoulder,
and to move the
first vertebra upon
the second.
To draw the ribs
downwards, move
the body upon its
axis, assist in erect¬
ing the trunk, and
turn the neck back¬
wards, or to one
side.
To stretch the verte-
brse of the back,
and keep the trunk
erect.
Of the
M usclej,
16. Spinalis
(F) According to some writers, this muscle has gotten its name from its resemblance to the spleen j others de¬
rive it from splenium, splint.
(g) So named on account of its complicated structure.
(h) So named from its origin Irom the neck and its insertion into the mastoid process.
(1) Several thin fasciculi of fleshy fibres arise from the lower ribs, and terminate in the inner side of this
muscle. Steno names them muscuh ad sacro-lumbalem accessorii. The sacro-lumbalis likewise sends off a fleshy
alip trom its upper part, which by Douglas and Albinos is described as a distinct muscle, under the name of
cervicalis descendens. Morgagni has very properly considered it as part of the sacro-lumbalis.
(K) At the upper part of this muscle a broad thin layer of fleshy fibres is found crossing, and intimately ad¬
hering to it. This portion, which is described by Albinus under the name of transversalis cervicis, may verv
properly be considered as an appendage to the longissimus dorsi. It arises from the transverse processes of tire
five or six superior dorsal vertebrae, and is inserted into the transverse processes of the six inferior cervical ver¬
tebrae. 3^y means of this appendage the longissimus dorsi may serve to move the neck to one side, or obliquely
backwards.
ap. II.
A N'
Name.
j6. Spinalis dorsi.
17. Semi-spinalis dor-
si.
18. Multifidus spi¬
nas (l).
atom y:
19. Semi-spinalis col¬
li.
20. Scalenus (m).
21. Inter-spinales(N).
22. Inter-ti-ansversa-
les (o).
Muscles within the
cavity of the abdo¬
men, on the anterior
and lateral parts of
the spine, - - - 1. Psoas parvus (p).
Origin.
From the spinous pro¬
cesses of the upper¬
most lumbar and
lowermost dorsal
vertebrae.
From the transverse
processes of the 7 th,
8th, 9th, and 10th,
vertebrae of the
back.
From the os sacrum,
ilium, oblique and
transverse proces¬
ses of the lumbar
vertebrae, trans¬
verse processes of
the dorsal and four
of the cervical ver¬
tebrae.
From the transverse
processes of the
five or six upper¬
most dorsal verte¬
brae.
From the transverse
processes of the
five inferior cervi¬
cal vertebrae.
From the upper part
of each ot the spi¬
nous processes of
the six inferior cer¬
vical vertebrae.
From the upper part
of each ofthe trans¬
verse processes of
the vertebrae.
Insertion.
Into the spinous pro¬
cesses of the nine
superior dorsal ver¬
tebrae.
Into the spinous pro¬
cesses of the four
uppermost dorsal,
and lowermost of
the cervical verte¬
brae.
Into the spinous pro¬
cesses of the lum¬
bar, dorsal, and six
of the cervical ver¬
tebrae.
Into the spinous pro¬
cesses of the 2d,
3d, 4th, 5th, and
6th cervical vex-te-
brae.
Into the upper and
outer part of the
first and second
ribs.
Into the under part of
each of the spinous
processes of the
vertebrae above.
Into the under pai-t of
each of the trans¬
verse processes of
the vertebrae above.
Use.
To extend the verte¬
brae.
To extend the spine
obliquely back¬
wards.
To extend the back,
and draw it back¬
wards or to one
side.
22 j
Of the
Muscles.
To stretch the neck
obliquely back¬
wards.
To move the neck
forwards, or to one
side.
To draw the spinous
processes towards
each other.
To draw the trans¬
verse processes to-
wards each other.
Fi’om the sides and Into the brim of the To bend the loins for-
transvei-se proces- pelvis, at the June- wards.
tion of the os pubis
with the ilium.
ses of the upper¬
most lumbar verte¬
bra, and sometimes
of the lowermost
dorsal vertebra.
2. Psoas
(1.) Anatomists in general have unnecessarily multiplied the muscles of the spine. Albinus has the merit of
having introduced greater simplicity into this part of myology. Under the name of multijidus spinie, he has
very properly included those portions of muscular flesh intermixed with tendinous fibres, situated close to the
back part of the spine, and which are described by Douglas under the names of transversales colli ^ dor si ^ ct luni~
borum. ' '
(M) The ancients gave it this name from its resemblance to an irregular triangle (WAnves). It consists of
three fleshy portions. The antex4or one affords a passage to the axillary artery, and between this and the middle
portion we find the nerves going to the upper extremities. Ihe middle is in part covered by the posterior por¬
tion, which is the longest and thinnest of the three. . .. ..
(n) In the generality of anatomical books we find these muscles divided into mtcr-spinciles cerviciSy dorsi^ anil
lumborum ; but we do not find any such muscles either in the loins or back.
(o) These muscles are to be found only in the neck and loins; what have been described as the intcr-trans-
versales dorsi being rather small tendons than muscles.
(p) This and the following pair of muscles derive their name of psoas from lumbus, on account of then si
tuation at the anterior part of the loins.
224
ANATOMY.
Name. Orgin. Insertion. Use.
2. Psoas magnus. From the bodies and Into the os femoris, a To bend the thigh
transverse proces- little below the tro* forwards,
ses of the last dor- chanter minor,
sal, and all the lum¬
bar vertebrae.
From the inner lip, In common with the To assist the psoas
hollow part, and
edge of the os ili¬
um.
From the posterior Into the transverse To support the spine,
part of the spine of processesof the four or to draw it to one
the ilium. uppermost lumbar
vertebrae, the infe¬
rior edge of the last
rib, and the side of
the lowermost dor¬
sal vertebra.
5. Coccygaens. From the posterior Into the lower part To draw the os coccy-
Part I,
Of Ht
Muscles,
3. Iliacus internus.
Quadratus lumbo-
rum (q).
In common with the To assist the
psoas magnus. magnus.
side.
and inner edge of
the spine of the is¬
chium.
of the os sacrum,'
and almost the
whole length of the
os coccygis lateral¬
ly-
gis forwards
inwards (r).
and
Muscles on the scapu¬
la and upper part of
the os humeri, - - 1. Deltoides (s).
2. Supra-spinatus.
3. Infra-spinatus.
4. Teres minor (x).
5. Teres major.
6. Subscapularis.
7-
Coraco-braehialis
(u).
From the clavicle,
processus acromi¬
on, and spine of the
scapula.
From the basis, spine,
and upper costa of
the scapula.
From the basis and
spine of the scapula.
From the inferior co¬
sta of the scapula.
From the inferior
angle, and inferior
costa of the scapu¬
la.
From the basis, supe¬
rior and inferior co¬
stae of the scapula.
From the coracoid
pro«ss of the sca¬
pula.
Into the anterior and
middle part of the
os humeri.
Into a large tuberosi¬
ty at the head of
the os humeri.
Into the upper and
middle part of the
tuberosity.
Into the lower part of
the tuberosity.
Into the ridge at the
inner side of the
groove formed for
the long head of
the biceps.
Into the upper part
of a small tubero¬
sity at the head of
the os humeri.
Into the middle and
inner side of the os
humeri.
To raise the arm.
To raise the arm.
To roll the os humeri
outwards.
To assist the infra¬
spinatus.
To assist in the rota¬
tory motion of the
arm.
To roll the arm in¬
wards.
To roll the arm for¬
wards andupwards.
Muscles
(q.) So called from its shape, which is that of an irregular square.
(r) Some of the fibres of this muscle are united with those of the levator ani, so that it assists in closing the
lower part of the pelvis.
(s) So named from its supposed resemblance to the Greek A reversed.
(x) This and the. following pair are called teres, from their being of a long and round shape.
.^u) This muscle affords a passage to the musculo-cutaneous nerve.
II. A N
Muscles on the os Name.
humeri, - - I. Biceps flexor cubi-
ti.
Y.
Insertion. Use.
one Into the tuberosity at To bend the fore-arm.
the upper
the radius.
end of
ATOM
Origin.
By two heads,
from the coracoid
process, and the o-
ther, or long head,
from the upper and
outer edge of the
glenoid cavity of
the scapula.
2. Brachial is internus. From the os humeri, Into a small tubero-
below, and at each sity at the fore part
side of the tendon of the coronoid pro¬
of the deltoides. cess of the ulna.
By three heads: the Into the upper and
225
Of the
Muscles.
3.Tr!cepsextensorcu
biti.
 —— on the fore¬
arm, ' - - 1. Supinator longus.
2. Extensor carpi ra-
dialis longus.
3. Extensor carpi ra¬
dial is brevis.
4. Extensor digitorum
communis.
5. Extensor minimi
digit!.
6. Extensor carpi ul-
naris.
7. Anconteus (v).
S. Flexor carpi ulna-
ris.
9. Paimaris longus.
first, from the infe¬
rior costa of the
scapula; the se¬
cond, from the up¬
per and outer part
of the os humeri ;
and the third, from
the back part of
that bone.
From the outer ridge
and anterior sur¬
face of the os hu¬
meri, a little above
its outer condyle.
Immediately below
the origin of the
supinator longus.
From the outer and
lower part of the
outer condyle of
the os humeri, and
the upper part of
the radius.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
From the inner con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri, and anterior
edge of the olecra¬
non (w).
From the inner con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
outer part of the
olecranon.
To assist in bending
the fore-arm.
To extend the fore¬
arm.
Into the radius near To assist in turning
its styloid process. the palm of the
hapd upwards.
Into the upper part of To extend the w'rist.
the metacarpal bone
of the fore-finger.
Into the upper part To assist the extensor
of the metacarpal
bone of the middle
finger.
longus.
Into the back part of To extend the fingers,
all the bones of the
four fingers.
Into the bones of the To extend the little
little finger. finger.
Into the metacarpal To assist in extend-
bone of the little ing the wrist,
finger.
Into the outer edge of To extend the fore-
the ulna. arm.
Into the os pisiforme. To assist in bending
the hand.
Into the internal an- To bend the arm,
nular ligament, and
aponeurosis paima¬
ris (x).
10. Flexor
(v) So called from cubitus.
(w) Between the two origins of this muscle we find the ulnar nerve going to the fore-arm.
(x) The aponeurosis paimaris is a tendinous membrane that extends over the palm of the hand.
Vol. Ilf Part I. f Ff
Some ana¬
tomists
226
ANATOMY.
Of the
Muscles.
Name.
10. Flexor carpi ra-
dialis.
11. Pronator radii te¬
res.
12. Flexor sublimis
perforatus (y).
13. Supinator radii
brevis.
14. Abductor pollicis
longus.
15. Extensor minor
pollicis.
16. Extensor major
pollicis.
17. Indicator.
18. Flexor profundus
perforans.
19. Flexor longus pol¬
licis.
20. Pronator radii
quadratus.
Or gin.
From the inner con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri, and coronoid
process of the ulna.
From the inner con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri, inner edge of
the coronoid pro¬
cess of the ulna,
and upper and an¬
terior part of the
radius.
From the outer con¬
dyle of the os hu¬
meri, and posterior
surface and outer
edge of the ulna.
From the middle and
back part of the
ulna, interosseous
ligament, and ra¬
dius.
From the back part
of the ulna, and in¬
terosseous ligament
and radius.
From the back of the
ulna and interosse¬
ous ligament.
From the middle of
the ulna.
From the upper and
fore part of the
ulna, and interosse¬
ous ligament.
From the upper and
fore part of the ra¬
dius.
From the inner and
lower part of the
ulna.
Insertion.
Into the metacarpal
bone of the fore¬
finger.
Into the anterior and
convex edge of the
radius, near its mid¬
dle.
Into the second bone
of each finger.
Use.
To bend the hand.
Part I.
Of the
Muscles.
To roll the hand in¬
wards.
To bend the second
joint of the fingers.
Into the anterior, in¬
ner, and upper part
of the radius.
By two tendons into
the os trapezium,
and first bone of
the thumb.
Into the convex part
of the second bone
of the thumb.
Into the third and
last bone of the
thumb.
Into the metacarpal
bone of the fore¬
finger.
Into the fore part of
the last bone of each
of the fingers.
Into the last joint of
the thumb.
Into the radius, oppo¬
site to its origin.
To roll the radius
outwards.
To stretch the first
bone of the thumb
outwards.
To extend the second
bone of the thumb
obliquely outwards.
To stretch the thumb
obliquely back¬
wards.
To extend the fore¬
finger.
To bend the last joint
of the fingers.
To bend the last joint
of the thumb.
To roll the radius in¬
wards, and ofcourse
to assist in the pro¬
nation of the hand.
Muscles on the hand, 1. Eumbricales (z). Irom the tendons of Into the tendons of To bend the first, and
the perforans. the extensor digito- to extend the two
rum communis. last joints of the
fingers (a).
2. Abductor
tomists have supposed it to be a production of the tendon of this muscle, but without sufficient grounds; for in
some subjects we find the palmaris longus inserted wholly into the annular ligament, so as to be perfectly distinct
from .this aponeurosis; and it now and then happens, that no palmaris longus is to be found, whereas this expan?
sion is never deficient.
(y) This muscle is named perforatus, on account of the four tendons, in which it terminates, being perforated
by those of another muscle, the perforans.
(z) So named from their being shaped somewhat like the lumbricus or earth-worm.
(a) Fallopius was the first who remarked the two opposite uses of this muscle. Their extending power is
owing to their connexion with the extensor communis.
Chap,
Of the
Muscles.
II.
Muscles at the back
part of the pelvis,
and upper part of
the thigh,
A N
Name.
2. Abductor brevis
pollicis.
ATOMY.
3. Opponens pollicis.
4. Flexor brevis pol¬
licis.
5. Adductor pollicis.
6. Abductor indicis.
7. Palmaris brevis.
8. Abductor minimi
digiti.
9. Flexor parvus mi¬
nimi digiti.
10. Adductor meta¬
carpi minimi digiti.
11. Interossei interni.
Origin.
From the fore part
of the internal an¬
nular ligament, os
scaphoides, and one
of the tendons of
the abductor lon-
gus pollicis.
From the inner and
anterior part of the
internal annular li¬
gament, and from
the os scaphoides.
From the os trapezoi-
des, internal annu¬
lar ligament, os
magnum, and os
unciforme.
From the metacarpal
bone of the middle
finger.
From the inner side
of the first bone of
the thumb, and
from the os trape¬
zium.
From the internal an¬
nular ligament, and
aponeurosis palma¬
ris.
From the internal an¬
nular ligament, and
os pisiforme.
From the os uncifor¬
me and internal an¬
nular ligament.
From the os uncifor¬
me and internal an¬
nular ligament.
Situated between the
metacarpal bones.
Insertion.
Into the outer side of
the second bone of
the thumb, near its
root.
Into the first bone of
the thumb.
Into the ossa sesamoi-
dea and second
bone of the thumb.
Into the basis of the
second bone of the
thumb.
Into the first bone of
the fore finger po¬
steriorly.
Into the os pisiforme,
and the skin cover¬
ing the abductor
minimi digiti.
Into the side of the
first bone of the
little finger.
Into the first bone of
the little finger.
Into the metacarpal
bone of the little
finger.
Into the roots of the
fingers.
12. Interossei externi. Situated between the Into the roots of the
- metacarpal bones fingers,
on the back of the
hand.
227
Use. Of the
To move the thumb Muscles,
from the fingers. '
To move the thumb
inwards, and to turn
it upon its axis.
To bend the second
joint of the thumb.
To move the thumb
towards the fingers.
To move the fore fin¬
ger towards the
thumb.
To contract the palm
of the hand.
To draw the little fin¬
ger from the rest.
To bend the little
finger.
To move that bone
towards the rest.
To extend the fingers,
and move them to¬
wards the thumb
(B).
Toextend the fingers j
but the first draws
the middle finger
inwards, the se¬
cond draws it out¬
wards, and the third
draws the ring fin¬
ger inwards.
1. Glutaeus (c) maxi- From the spine of the Into the upper part To extend the thigh
mus. ilium, posterior sa- of the linea aspera and draw it out-
cro-ischiatic liga- of the os femoris. wards,
ment, os sacrum,
and os coccygis.
2. Glutreus
(b) The third interosseus internus (for there are four of the externi and three of the interni) differs from the
rest in drawing the middle finger from the thumb.
(c) From yAarej, nates*
Ff 3
228
Of the
Muscles.
A N
Name.
2. Glutseus medius.
atomy.
Origin. Insertion.
From the spine and Into the outer and
superior surface of back part ot the
the ilium. great trochanter of
the os femoris.
3. Glutteus minimus. From the outer sur«
face of the ilium
and the border ot
its great niche.
From the anterior
part of the os sa-
4. Pyriformis (d).
Muscles on the
thigh (g).
5. Gemini (e). By two portions, one
from the outer sur¬
face of the spine
of the ischium j
the other from the
tuberosity of the
ischium and poste¬
rior sacro-ischiatic
ligament.
6. Obturator internus. From the superiorhalf
of the inner border
of the foramen thy-
roideum.
7. Quadratus (f) fe- From the tuberosity
# moris. of the ischium.
1. Biceps flexor cru- By two heads; one
ris. from the tuberosity
of the ischium,
the other from the
linea aspera near
the insertion of
the glutseus max-
imus.
Into the upper and
anterior part of the
great trochanter.
Into a cavity at the
root of the trochan¬
ter major.
Into the same cavity
as the pyriformis.
Into the same cavity
with the former.
Use.
To draw the thigh
outwards and a lit¬
tle backwards, and
when it is bended,
to roll it.
To assist the former.
To roll the thigh out¬
wards.
To roll the thigh out¬
wards, and likewise
to confine the ten¬
don of the obtura¬
tor internus, when
the latter is in ac¬
tion.
To roll the thigh out¬
wards.
Part I.
Of the
Muscles,
Into a ridge between
the trochanter ma¬
jor and trochanter
minor.
To move the thigh
outwards.
Into the upper and To bend the leg.
back part of the fi¬
bula (h).
2. Semi-tendinosus.
From the tuberosity
of the ischium.
the upper
part of
and
the
3. Semi-membranosus From the tuberosity
(1). of the ischium.
4. Tensor vaginse fe-
From the superior
and anterior spi¬
nous process of the
ilium.
Into
inner
tibia.
Into the upper and
back part of the
head of the tibia.
Into the inner side
of the fascia lata,
which covers the
outside of the thigh.
To bend and draw
the leg inwards.
To bend the leg.
To stretch the fascia.
5. Sartorius.
(d) So named from its pear-like shape.
(e) The two portions of this muscle having been described as two distinct muscles by some anatomists,
have occasioned it to be named gemini. The tendon of the obturator internus runs between these two por¬
tions.
(f) The muscle is not of the square shape its name would seem to indicate.
(g) The muscles of the leg and thigh are covered by a broad tendinous membrane called fascia lata, that
surrounds them in the manner of a sheath. It is sent off from the tendons of the glutsei and other muscles, and
dipping down between the muscles it covers, adheres to the linea aspera, and spreading over the joint of the knee,
gradually disappears on the leg. It is thickest on the inside of the thigh.
(h) The tendon of this muscle forms the outer hamstring.
(1) So named on account of its origin, which is by a broad flat tendon three inches long.
2
ip. II.
ANATOMY.
Name.
5. Sartorius.
6. Rectus.
7. Gracilis.
8. Vastusexternus(L).
, > } r " 'i:
9. Vastus intemus.
10. Crurseus (m).
II. Pectinalis.
12. Adductor longus
femoris (n).
13. Adductor brevis
femoris.
14. Adductor magnus
femoris.
15. Obturator exter-
nus.
Origin.
From the superior
and anterior spi¬
nous process of the
ilium.
By two tendons ; one
from the anterior
and inferior spi¬
nous process of the
ilium $ the other
from the posterior
edge of the coty¬
loid 'cavity.
From the fore part of
the ischium and
pubis.
From the anterior
and lower part of
the great trochan¬
ter, and the outer
edge of the linea
aspera.
From the inner edge
of the linea aspera,
beginning between
the fore part of the
os femoris and the
root of the lesser
trochanter.
From the outer and
arterior- part of
the lesser trochan¬
ter.
From the anterior
edge of the os pu¬
bis,or pectinis,as it
is sometimes called.
From the upper and
fore part of the os
pubis.
From the fore part of
the ramus of the os
pubis.
From the lower and
fore part of the ra¬
mus of the os pubis.^
From part of the ob¬
turator ligament,
and the inner half
of the circumfe¬
rence of the fora¬
men thyroideum.
Insertion. Use.
Into the upper and To bend the leg in-
inner part of the wards (k).
tibia.
Into the upper and To extend the leg.
fore part of tire pa¬
tella.
Into the upper and To bend the leg.
inner part of the
tibia.
To the upper and To extend the leg.
outer part of the
patella.
Into the upper and To extend the leg.
inner part of the
patella.
Into the upper part To extend the leg.
of the patella.
Into the upper and
fore part of the li¬
nea aspera.
Near the middle"
and back part of
the linea aspera.
Into the inner and
upper part of the
linea aspera.
Into the whole
length of the li¬
nea aspera.
Into the os femoris,
near the root of
the great trochan¬
ter.
To draw the thigh
inwards, upwards,.
and to roll it a little
outwards.
To draw the thigh
inwards, upwards,
and to roll it a little
outwards.
To move the thigh
outwards in an ob¬
lique direction, and
likewise to bend
and draw it in¬
wards.
Muscles.
(k) Spigelius was the first who gave this the name of sartorius, or the taylor’s muscle, from its use in crossing
the legs.
(l) The vastus externus, vastus internus, and crursens, are so intimately connected with each other, that some
anatomists have been induced to consider them as a triceps, or single muscle with three heads.
(m) Under the crurseus we sometimes meet with two small muscles, to which Albinus has given the name ot
sub-crurcei. They terminate on each side of the patella, and prevent the capsular ligament from being pinched.
When they are wanting, which is very often the case, some of the fibres of the cruraeus are found adhering to the
capsula. t . .
(n) This and the two following muscles have been usually, but improperly, considered as forming a smgfe,
muscle with three heads, and on that account named triceps femoris.\
0
229
Of the
Muscles.
 v J
230
Of the
Muscles. Muscles on the leg,
N A T O M
Y.
Insertion.
one By a great round ten-
from the inner con- don, common to
dyle, the other from this and the follow-
the outer condyle, ing muscle,
of the os femoris.
2. Gastrocnemius (p) By two heads j one By a large tendon To extend the foot.
A
Natne. Origin.
I. Gastrocnemius (o) By two heads j
externus.
Par
Use. 0f
1 o extend the foot, MuS
mternus.
3. Plantaris (q).
4. Popliteus (r).
(the tendo achillis')
common to this and
the former muscle,
into the lower and
back part of the os
calcis.
from the back part
of the head of the
fibula, the other
from the upper and
back part of the
tibia. »
From the upper and Into the inside of the
posterior part of the back part of the os
outer condyle of the calcis.
os femoris.
From the outer con- Into the upper and
dyle of the thigh. inner part of the
tibia.
5. Flexor longus digi- From the upper and By four tendons,
torum pedis (s). inner part of the which, after passing
tibia. through the perfo¬
rations in those of
the flexor digito-
rum brevis, are in¬
serted into the last
bone of all the toes,
except the great
toe.
6. Flexor longus pol- From the back part, Into the last bone of
To assist in extending
the foot.
To assist in bending
the leg and rolling
it inwards.
To bend the last joint
of the toe.
licis pedis.
7. Tibialis posticus.
and a little below the great toe.
the head of the fi¬
bula.
From the back part, Into the inner
and
8. Peroneus longus.
9. Peroneus brevis.
and outer edge of
the tibia, and like¬
wise from the in¬
terosseous ligament
and adjacent part
of the fibula.
From the outer side
of the head of the
tibia, and also from
the upper, anterior,
and outer part of
the perone or fibu¬
la, to which it ad¬
heres for a conside¬
rable way down.
From the outer and
fore part of the fi¬
bula.
upper part of the
os naviculare and
side of the os cunei-
forme medium.
Into the metatarsal
bone of the great
toe.
To bend the great
toe.
To move the foot in¬
wards.
To move the foot out¬
wards.
Into the metatarsal
bone of the little
toe.
To assist the last de¬
scribed muscle.
10. Extensor
(o) sura, “ the calf of the leg.”
(p) This muscle is by some anatomists named soleus, on account of its being shaped like the sole-fish.
(q,) This muscle has gotten the name of plantaris, from its being supposed to furnish the aponeurosis that
covers the sole of the foot; but it does not in the least contribute to the formation of that tendinous expan¬
sion.
(r) So called on account of its situation at the ham (poples').
(s) This muscle, about the middle of the foot, unites with a fleshy mass, which, from its having first been
described by Sylvius, is usually called massa carnea Jacobi Sylvii.
3
h? • M*
Of
tfus s.
A N
Name.
10. Extensor longus
digitorum pedis.
ATOMY.
Origin. Insertion. Use.
From the upper, out- By four tendons into To extend the toes.
231
Of the
Muscles.
the first joint of the
smaller toes.
er, and fore part of
the tibia, interosse¬
ous ligament, and
inner edge of the
fibula.
11. Peroneus tertius. From the fore part Into the metatarsal To bend the foot,
of the lower half bone of the little
of the fibula, and toe.
from the interosse¬
ous ligament.
From the upper and Into the os cunei- To bend the foot,
fore part of the ti- forme internum,
bia.
From the upper and Into the convex sur-
fore part of the ti- face of the bones of
bia. the great toe.
12. Tibialis anticus.
13. Extensorproprius
pollicis pedis.
To extend the great
toe.
Muscles on the foot, 1. Extensor brevis di¬
gitorum pedis.
2. Flexor brevis digi¬
torum pedis.
From the upper and By four tendons j one To extend the toes,
anterior part of the of which joins the
os calcis. tendon of the ex-
ternus longus polli¬
cis, and the other
three the tendons
of the extensor di¬
gitorum longus.
From the lower part By four tendons, To bend the second
of the os calcis. which, after af- joint of the toes,
fording a passage
to those of the flex¬
or longus, are in¬
serted into the se¬
cond phalanx of
each of the small
3. Abductor pollicis
pedis.
4. Abductor minimi
digiti.
5. Lumbricales pedis.
6. Flexor brevis pol-
licis pedis.
7. Adductor pollicis
pedis.
8. Transversales pe¬
dis.
From the inner and
lower part of the
os calcis.
From the outer tu¬
bercle of the os cal¬
cis, the root of the
metatarsal bone of
the little toe, and
also from the apo¬
neurosis plantaris.
From the tendons of
the flexor longus
digitorum pedis.
From the inferior and
antex ior part of the
os calcis, and also
from the inferior
part of the os cu-
neiformeexternum.
From the near roots
of the mctatai’sal
bones of the 2d,
3d, and 4th toes.
From the outer and
under part of the
anterior end of the
metatarsal bone of
the little toe.
toes.
Into the first joint of To move the great
the great toe. toe from the other
toes.
Into the outer side of To draw the little toe
the first joint of the outwards,
little toe.
Into the tendinous To draw the toes in¬
expansion at the wards,
upper part of the
toes.
By two tendons into To bend the first joint
the first joint of the of the great toe.
great toe.
Into the outer os se-
samoideum, or first
joint of the great
toe.
Into the inner os se-
samoideum, and an¬
terior end of the
metatarsal bone of
the great toe.
To draw the great toe
nearer to the rest,
and also to bend
it.
To contract the foot. .
9. Flexor
2J2
Of til9
Muscles.
ANATOMY. Parti!
Name. Origin. Insertion. Use. of tfcij
cj. Flexor brevis ml- From the basis of the Into the first joint of To bend the little toe. M«sct 1
nimi digit! pedis. metatarsal bone of * the little toe. *——y.
the little toe.
10. Interossei pedis Situated between the
interni (t). metatarsal bones.
11. Interossei exter-
ni (u).
EXPLANATION of PLATES XXV. and XXVI.
Plate XXV.
Fig. i. The Muscles immediately under the com¬
mon teguments on the anterior part of the body are
represented on the right side ; and on the left side
the Muscles are seen which come in view when the
exterior ones are taken away.
A, the frontal muscle. B, The tendinous aponeu¬
rosis which joins it to the occipital } hence both named
occipito-frontalis. C, Attollehs aurem. D, The ear.
E, Anterior auris. FF, Orbicularis palpebrarum. G,
Levator labii superioris alaeque nasi. H, Levator an-
guli oris. I, Zygomaticus minor. K, Zygomaticus
major. L, Masseter. M, Orbicularis oris. N, De¬
pressor labii inferioris. O, Depressor anguli oris. P,
Buccinator. QQ, Platysma myoides. BR, Sterno-
cleido-mastoidseus. S, Part of the trapezius. T, Part
of the scaleni.
Superior Extremity.—U, Deltoides. V, Pecto-
ralis major. W, Part of the latissimus dorsi. XX, Bi¬
ceps flexor cubiti. YY, Part of the brachialis exter-
nus. ZZ, The beginning of the tendinous aponeu¬
rosis (from the biceps), which is spread over the mus¬
cles of the fore-arm. aa, Its strong tendon inserted
into the tubercle of the radius, bb, Part of the bra¬
chialis internus. c, Pronator radii teres, d, Flexor
carpi radialis. e, Part of the flexor carpi ulnaris. f,
Palmaris longus. g, Aponeurosis palmaris. 3, Pal-
maris brevis. 1, Ligamentum carpi annulare. 22, Ab¬
ductor minimi digiti. h, Supinator radii longus. i,
The tendons of the thumb. k, Abductor pollicis.
], Flexor pollicis longus. mm, The tendons of the
flexor sublimis perforatus, profundus perforans, and lum-
bricales.—The sheaths are entire in the right hand,—
in the left cut open, to show the tendons of the flexor
profundus perforating the sublimis.
Muscles not referred to—in the left superior extre¬
mity.—n, Pectoralis minor, seu serratus anticus minor.
0, The two heads of (xx) the biceps, p, Coraco-
brachialis. qq, The long head of the triceps extensor
cubiti. rr, Teres major, ss, Subscapularis. tt, Ex-
tensores radiates, u, Supinator brevis, v, The cut
extremity of the pronator teres, w, Flexor subli¬
mis perforatus. x, Part of the flexor profundus,
y, Flexor pollicis longus. z, Part of the flexor pollicis
brevis; 4, Abductor minimi digiti. 5, The four lum-
bricales.
Trunk.—6, Serrated extremities of the serratus
anticus major. 77, Obliquus externus abdominis.
88, The linea alba. 9, The umbilicus. 10, Pyra-
midalis. 11 Jl, The spermatic cord. On the left
side it is covered by the cremaster. 1212, Rectus
abdominis. 13, Obliquus internus. 14 14, &c. In¬
tercostal muscles.
Inferior Extremities.—a a, The gracilis, b b,
Part of the triceps, c c, Pectinalis. d d, Psoas mag-
nus. e e, Iliacus internus. f, Part of the glutaeus
medius. g, Part of the glutaeus minimus, h, Cut
extremity of the rectus cruris, it. Vastus externus.
k. Tendon of the rectus cruris. //, Vastus externus.
* Sartorius muscle. ** Fleshy origin of the tensor
vaginae femoris or membranosus. Its tendinous aponeu¬
rosis covers (f) the vastus externus in the right side.
m m, Patella, n n, Ligament or tendon from it to the
tibia. 0, Rectus cruris. 71, Cruraeus. ^ <7, The tibia,
rr, Part of the gemellus or gastrocnemius externus.
s s s, Part of the soleus or gastrocnemius internus.
t, Tibialis anticus. «, Tibialis posticus, v v, Paeronaei
muscles, tv tv, Extensor longus digitorum pedis, x a?,
Extensor longus pollicis pedis, y, Abductor pollicis
pedis.
Fig. 2. The Muscles, Glands, &c. of the left Side
of the Face and Neck, after the common Teguments
and Platysma myoides have been taken off.
a, The frontal muscle, b, Temporalis and tempo¬
ral artery, c, Orbicularis palpebrarum, d, Levator
labii superioris alaeque nasi, e, Levator anguli oris,
f, Zygomaticus. g, Depressor labii inferioris. h, De¬
pressor anguli oris. i, Buccinator, k, Masseter.
11, Parotid gland, m, Its duct, n, Sterno-cleido-
mastoidaeus. 0, Part of the trapezius, p, Sterno-
hyoidaeus. q, Sterno-thyroidaeus. r, Omo hyoidaeus.
s, Levator scapulae, tt, Scaleni. u, Part of the sple-
nius.
Fig. 3. The Muscles of the Face and Neck in view
after the exterior ones are taken away,
a a, Corrugator supercilii. b, Temporalis, c, Ten¬
don of the levator palpebras superioris. d, Tendon of
the orbicularis palpebrarum, e, Masseter. f, Bucci¬
nator. g, Levator anguli oris, b, Depressor labii su¬
perioris alaeque nasi, i, Orbicularis oris, k, Depres¬
sor anguli oris. 1, Muscles of the os hyoides. m, Ster-
no-cleido mastoidaeus.
Fig.
(t) The interossei interni are three in number j their use is to draw the smaller toes towards the great toe.
(u) The interossei extern! are four in number j the first serves to move the fore toe towards the great toe j
the rest move the toes outwards. All the interossei assist in extending the toes.
r a-
C >p- in*
tlig Fig. 4. Some of the Muscles of the Os Hyoides and
Lata. Submaxillary Gland.
r-w a, Part of the masseter muscle, b, Posterior head
of the digastric. c, Its anterior head. dd, Sterno-
hyoidaeus. e, Omo-hyoidseus. f, Stylo-hyoideeus. g,
Subrnaxillary gland in situ.
Fig. 5. The Submaxillary Gland and Duct,
a, Musculus mylo-hyoidaeus. b, Hyo-glossus. c,
Submaxillary gland extra situm. d, Its duct.
Plate XXVI.
Fig. 1. The Muscles immediately under the common
teguments on the posterior part of the body are re¬
presented in the right side j and on the left side the
Muscles are seen which come in view when the
exterior ones are taken away.
Head.—AA, Occipito-frontalis. B, Attollens au-
rem. C, Part of the orbicularis palpebrarum. D,
Masseter. E, Pterygoidmus internus.
Trunk.—Right side. FFF, Trapezius seu cucul-
laris. GGGG, Latissimus dorsi. H, Part of the
obliquus externus abdominis.
Trunk.—Left side. I, Splenius. K, Part of the
complexus. L, Levator scapulae. M, Rhomboides.
NN, Serratus posticus inferior. O, Part of the lon-
gissimus dorsi. P, Part of the sacro-lumbalis. Q, Part
of the semi-spinalis dorsi. R, Part of the serratus an-
ticus major. S, Part of the obliquus internus abdo¬
minis.
Superior Extremity.—Right side. T, Deltoides.
U, Triceps extensor cubiti. V, Supinator longus.
WW, Extensores carpi radialis longior and brevior.
XX, Extensor carpi ulnaris. YY, Extensor digito-
rum communis. Z, Abductor indicis. 123, Ex¬
tensores pollicis.
Superior Extremity.—Left side, a, Supra-spi-
natus. b, Infra-spinatus. c, Teres minor. d, Te¬
res major, e, Triceps extensor cubiti. f f, Exten¬
sores carpi radiales. g, Supinator brevis, h, Indica¬
tor. 123, Extensores pollicis. i, Abductor minimi
digiti. k, Interossei.
Inferior Extremity.—Right side. 1, Glutseus
maximus. m, Part of the glutaeus medius. n, Ten¬
sor vaginae femoris. o, Gracilis, pp, Adductor fe-
moris magnus. q, Part of the vastus internus. r, Se-
233
mimembranosus. s, Semitendinosus. t, Long head of the
of the biceps flexor cruris, uu, Gastrocnemius ex- Abdomen,
ternus seu gemellus, v, Tendo Achillis. w, Solaeus k——v—
seu gastrocnemius internus. xx, Peronaeus longus and
brevis. y, Tendons of the flexor longus digitorum
pedis ;—and under them * flexor brevis digitorum
pedis, z, Abductor minimi digiti pedis.
Inferior Extremity.—Left side, m, n, o,pp,
r, sy t, v, w tv, x Xy j/, 2s, Point the same parts as hi
the right side, o, Pyriformis. bb, Gemini, cc, Obtu¬
rator internus. d, Quadratus femoris. c, Coccygaeus.
The short head of the biceps flexor cruris, gg, Plan-
taris. /i, Poplitaeus. t, Flexor longus pollicis pedis.
Fig. 2. The Palm of the Left Hand after the com¬
mon Teguments are removed, to show the Muscles
of the Fingers.
a, Tendon of the flexor carpi radialis. b, Tendon
of the flexor carpi ulnaris. c, Tendons of the flexor
sublimis perforatus, profundus perforans, and lumbri-
cales. d, Abductor pollicis. ee, Flexor pollicis
longus. f, Flexor pollicis brevis, g, Palmaris bre¬
vis. h, Abductor minimi digiti. i, Ligamentum car¬
pi annulare, k, A probe put under the tendons of the
flexor digitorum sublimis •, which are perforated by 1,
the flexor digitorum profundus, mmmm, Lumbricales.
n, Adductor pollicis.
Fig. 3. A Fore view of the Foot and tendons of the
Flexores Digitorum.
a, Cut extremity of the tendo Achillis. b, Upper
part of the astragalus, c, Os calcis. d, Tendon of
the tibialis anticus. e, Tendon of the extensor pollicis
longus. f, Tendon of the peronseus brevis, g, Ten¬
dons of the flexor digitorum longus, with the nonus
Vesalii. hh, The whole of the flexor digitorura
brevis.
Fig. 4. Muscles of the Anus,
aa, An outline of the buttocks, and upper part of
the thighs, b, The testes contained in the scrotum,
cc, Sphincter ani. d, Anus, e, Levator ani. f f, E-
rector penis, gg, Accelerator urinee. h, Corpus ca-
vernosum urethrae.
Fig. 5. Muscles of the Penis,
aa, b, d, ee, ff, h, Point the same as in fig. 4.
c, Sphincter ani. gg, Transversalis penis.
ANATOMY.
CHAP. III. OF THE ABDOMEN, OR LOWER BELLY.
THE abdomen, or lower belly, extends from the
lower extremity of the sternum, or the hollow usually
called the pit of the stomach, and more properly scrobi-
culus cordis, to the lower part of the trunk.
It is distinguished into three divisions called regions;
of these, the upper one, which is called the epigastric
region, begins immediately under the sternum, and ex¬
tends to within two fingers breadth of the navel, where
the middle or vmbilical region begins, and reaches to
the same distance below the navel. The third, which
is called the hypogastric, includes the rest of the abdo¬
men, as far as the os pubis.
Each of these regions is subdivided into three others;
two of which compose the sides, and the other the
middle part of each region.
Vol. II. Part I. t
The middle part of the upper region is called epi¬
gastrium, and its two sides hypochondria. The middle
part of the next region is the umbilical region, proper¬
ly so called, and its two sides are the flanks, or iliac
regions. Lastly, The middle part of the lower region
retains the name of hypogastrium, and its sides are
called inguina or groins. The back part of the abdo¬
men bears the name of lumbar region.
These are the divisions of the lower belly, which
are necessary to be held in remembrance, as they fre¬
quently occur in surgical and anatomical writing. We
will now proceed to examine the contents of the abdo¬
men ; and after having pointed out the names and ar¬
rangement of the several viscera contained in it, de¬
scribe each of them separately.
After
234 ANA T
Of the After having removed the skin, adipose membrane,
Abdomen, and abdominal muscles, tve discover the peritonaeum or
u v ’ membrane that envelopes all the viscera of the lower
belly. This being opened, the first part that presents
itself is the omentum or cawl, floating on the surface
of the intestines, which are likewise seen everywhere
loose and moist, and making a great number of cir¬
cumvolutions through the whole cavity of the abdo¬
men. The stomach is placed in the epigastrium, and
under the stomach is the pancreas. The liver fills the
right hypochondrium, and the spleen is situated in the
left. The kidneys are seen about the middle of the
lumbar region, and the urinary bladder and parts of
generation are seated in the lower division of the
belly.
Sect. I. Of the Peritoneum.
89 The peritonseum is a strong simple membrane, by
which all the viscera of the abdomen are surrounded,
and in some measure supported. Many anatomical
writers, particularly Winslow, have described it as be¬
ing composed of two distinct membranous laminae ;
but their description seems to be erroneous : what
perhaps appeared to be a second lamina, being found
to be simply a cellular coat, which sends off produc¬
tions to the blood vessels passing out of the abdominal
cavity. The aorta and vena cava likewise derive a
covering from the same membrane, which seems to be
a part of the cellular membrane we have already de¬
scribed.
The peritonaeum, by its productions and reduplica¬
tions, envelopes the greatest part of the abdominal
viscera. It is soft, and capable of considerable exten¬
sion } and is kept smooth and moist by a vapour,
which is constantly exhaling from its inner surface,
and is returned again into the circulation by the ab¬
sorbents.
This moisture not only contributes to the softness
of the peritonseum, but prevents the attrition, and
other ill effects, which would otherwise probably be
occasioned by the motion of the viscera upon each
other.
When this fluid is supplied in too great a quantity,
or the absorbents become incapable of carrying it off,
it accumulates, and constitutes an ascites or dropsy of
the belly *, and when by any means the exhalation is
discontinued, the peritonseum thickens, becomes dis¬
eased, and the viscera are sometimes found adhering to
each other.
The peritonseum is not a very vascular membrane.
In a sound state it seems to be endued with little or no
feeling, and the nerves that pass through it appear to
belong to the abdominal muscles.
Sect. II. Of the Omentum.
$0 The omentum, epiploon, or cawl, is a double mem¬
brane, produced from the peritonseum. It is inter¬
larded with fat, and adheres to the stomach, spleen,
O M Y. Part \
duodenum, and colon j from thence hanging down loose ^
and floating on the surface of the intestines. Its size is Abdomen
different in different subjects. In some it descends asy—
low as the pelvis, and it is commonly longer at the left
side than the right.
This part, the situation of which we have just now
described, was the only one known to the ancients un¬
der the name of epiploon ; but at present we distinguish
three omenta, viz. omentum magnum calico-gastricum,
omentum parvmn hepatico-gastricum, and omentum co-
licum. They all agree in being formed of two'very
delicate laminse, separated by a thin layer of cellular
membrane.
The omentum magnum colico-gastricum, of which
we have already spoken, derives its arteries from the
splenic and hepatic. Its veins terminate in the vena
portae. Its nerves, which are very few, come from the
splenic and hepatic plexus.
The omentum parvum hepatico-gastricum abounds
less with fat than the great epiploon. It begins at the
upper part of the duodenum, extends along the lesser
curvature of the stomach as far as the oesophagus, and
terminates about the neck of the gall-bladder, and be¬
hind the left ligament of the liver, so that it covers
the lesser lobe ; near the beginning of which we may
observe a small opening, first described by Winslow,
through which the whole pouch may easily be distend¬
ed with air (x). The vessels of the omentum parvum
are derived chiefly from the coronary stomachic arteries
and veins.
The omentum colicum begins at the fore part of the
caecum and right side of the colon. It appears as a
hollow conical appendage to these intestines, and usu¬
ally terminates at the back of the omentum magnum.
It seems to be nothing more than a membranous coat
of the caecum and colon, assuming a conical shape when
distended with air.
The uses of the omentum are not yet satisfactorily
determined. Perhaps by its softness and looseness it may
serve to prevent those adhesions of the abdominal visce¬
ra, which have been found to take place when the fat
of the omentum has been much wasted. Some authors
have supposed, that it assists in the preparation of bile j
but this is founded merely on conjecture.
Sect. III. Of the Stomach.
The stomach is a membranous and muscular bag, in
shape not unlike a bagpipe, lying across the upper part
of the abdomen, and inclining rather more to the left
than the right side.
It has two orifices, one of which receives the end of
the oesophagus, and is called the cardia, and sometimes
the left and upper orifice of the stomach j though its
situation is not much higher than the other, which is
styled the right and inferior orifice, and more common¬
ly the pylorus; both these openings are more elevated
than the body of the stomach.
The aliment passes down the oesophagus into the
stomach through the cardia, and after having under¬
gone
(x) This membranous bag, though exceedingly thin and transparent, is found
thrown into it by the same channel.
capable of supporting mercury,
3:
lap. in. A N A 1
)f the gone ^ie necessary digestion, passes out at the pylorus
idomea. where the intestinal canal commences.
-Y"—^ The stomach is composed of four tunics or coats,
which are so intimately connected together that it re¬
quires no little dexterity in the anatomist to demon¬
strate them. The exterior one is membranous, being
derived from the peritonaeum. The second is a mus¬
cular tunic, composed of fleshy fibres, which are in the
greatest number about the two orifices. The third is
called the nervous coat, and within this is the villous
or velvet-like coat which composes the inside of the
stomach.
The two last coats being more extensive than the two
first, form the folds, which are observed everywhere
in the cavity of this viscus, and more particularly about
the pylorus ; where they seem to impede the too hasty
exclusion of the aliment, making a considerable plait,
called valvula pylori.
The inner coat is constantly moistened by a mucus,
which approaches to the nature of the saliva, and is
called the gastric juice : this liquor has been supposed
to be secreted by certain minute glands (y) seated in
the nervous tunic, whose excretory ducts open on the
surface of the villous coat.
The arteries of the stomach called the gastric arte¬
ries are principally derived from the cseliac j some of
its veins pass to the splenic, and others to the vena
portae ; and its nerves are chiefly from the eighth pair
or par vagum.
The account given of the tunics of the stomach may
be applied to the whole alimentary canal: for both the
oesophagus and intestines are, like this viscus, compos¬
ed of four coats.
Before we describe the course of the aliment, and the
uses of the stomach, it will be necessary to speak of
other parts which assist in the process of digestion.
Sect. IV. Of the Oesophagus.
9* The oesophagus or gullet is a membranous and mus¬
cular canal, extending from the bottom of the mouth
to the upper orifice of the stomach. Its upper part,
where the aliment is received, is shaped somewhat like
a funnel, and is called ihe pharynx.
From hence it runs down close to the bodies of the
vertebra; as far as the diaphragm, in which there is an
opening through which it passes, and then terminates
in the stomach about the eleventh or twelfth vertebra
of the back.
The oesophagus is plentifully supplied with arteries
from the external carotid, bronchial, and superior inter¬
costal arteries j its veins empty themselves into the ve¬
na azygos, internal jugular, and mammary veins, &c.
Its nerves are derived chiefly from the eighth pair.
We likewise meet with a mucus in the oesophagus,
O M Y. 235
which everywhere lubricates its inner surface, and of the
tends to assist in deglutition. This mucus seems to be Abdomen,
secreted by very minute glands, like the mucus in other ' v '
parts of the alimentary canal.
Sect. V. Of the Intestines.
The intestines form a canal, which is usually six 91
times longer than the body to which it belongs. This
canal extends from the pylorus, or inferior orifice of
the stomach, to the anus.
It will be easily understood, that a part of such great
length must necessarily make many circumvolutions, to
be confined with so many other viscera within the ca¬
vity of the lower belly.
Although the intestines are in fact, as we have ob¬
served, only one long and extensive canal, yet different
parts have been distinguished by diflerent names.
The intestines are first distinguished into two parts,
one of which begins at the stomach, and is called the
thin or small intestines, from the small size of the canal,
when compared with the other part, which is called the
large intestines, and includes the lower portion of the
canal down to the anus.
Each of these parts has its subdivisions. The small
intestines being distinguished into duodenum, jejunum,
and ileum, and the larger portion into caecum, colon,
and rectum.
The small intestines fill the middle and fore parts of
the belly, while the large intestines fill the sides and
both the upper and lower parts of the cavity.
The duodenum, which is the first of the small in¬
testines, is so called, because it is about 12 inches long.
It begins at the pylorus, and terminates in the jejunum,
which is a part of the canal observed to be usually more
empty than the other intestines. This appearance
give it its name, and likewise serves to point out where
it begins.
The next division is the ileum, which of itself ex¬
ceeds the united length of the duodenum and jejunum,
and has received its name from its numerous circumvo¬
lutions. The large circumvolution of the ileum co¬
vers the first of the large intestines called the ccecum
(z), which seems properly to belong to the colon,
being a kind of pouch of about four fingers in width,
and nearly of the same length, having exteriorly a lit¬
tle appendix, called appendix cceci.
The caecum is placed in the cavity of the os ilium
on the right side, and terminates in the colon, which
is the largest of all the intestines.
This intestine ascends by the right kidney to which
it is attached, passes under the hollow part of the liver,
and the bottom of the stomach, to the spleen, to which
it is likewise secured, as it is also to the left kidney;
and from thence passes down towards the os sacrum,
G g 2 where,
(y) Heister, speaking of these glands, very properly says, “ in porcis facile, in homine raro observantur
for although many anatomical writers have described their appearance and figure, yet they do not seem to have
been hitherto satifactorily demonstrated in the human stomach ; and the gastric juice is now more generally be¬
lieved to be derived from the exhalant arteries of the stomach.
(z) Anatomists have differed with respect to this division of the intestines.—The method hei’e followed is now
generally adopted ; but there are authors who allow the name of ccecum only to the little appendix, which ha»
likewise been called the vermiform appendix, from its resemblance to a worm in size and length.
2j6
Of the where, from its straight course, the canal begins to take
Abdomen, the name of rectum.
There are three ligamentous hands extending
through the whole length of the colon, which by being
shorter than its two inner coats, serve to increase the
plaits on the inner surface of this gut.
The anus, which terminates the intestinum rectum,
is furnished with three muscles 5 one of these is com¬
posed of circular fibres, and from its use in shutting the
passage of the anus is called sphincter ani.
The other two are the levatores ani, so called, be¬
cause they elevate the anus after dejection. When
these by palsy, or any other disease, lose the power of
contracting, the anus prolapses ; and when the sphinc¬
ter is affected by similar causes, the fasces are voided
involuntarily.
It has been already observed that the intestinal canal
is composed of four tunics j but it remains to be re¬
marked, that here, as in the stomach, the two inner tu¬
nics being more extensive than the other two, form the
plaits which are to be seen in the inner surface of the
intestines, and are called x'alvulce conniventes.
Some authors have considered these plaits as tending
to retard the motion of the faeces, in order to afford
, more time for the separation of the chyle j but there
are others who attribute to them a different use $ they
contend, that these valves, by being naturally inclined
downwards, cannot impede the descent of the feces,
but that they are intended to prevent their return up¬
wards.
They are probably destined for both these uses $ for
although these folds incline to their lower side, yet the
inequalities they occasion in the canal are sufficient to
retard in some measure the progressive motion of the
feces, and to afford a greater surface for the absorp¬
tion of chyle j and their natural position seems to op¬
pose itself to the return of the aliment.
Resides these valvulce conniventes, there is one more
considerable than the rest, called the valve of the colon ;
which is found at that part of the canal where the in¬
testinum ileum is joined to the colon. This valve per¬
mits the alimentary pulp to pass downwards, but serves
to prevent its return upwards j and it is by this valve
that clysters are prevented from passing into the small
intestines (y).
Part
Of the little vermiform appendix of the caecum, it ofiiu
will be sufficient to say, that its uses have never yet been AWomej
ascertained. In birds we meet with two of these ap- w*v-
pendices.
The intestines are lubricated by a constant supply of
mucus, which is probably secreted by very minute fol¬
licles (z). This mucus promotes the descent of the
alimentary pulp, and in some measure defends the inner
surface of the intestines from the irritation to which it
would, perhaps, otherwise be continually exposed from
the aliment j and which, when in a certain degree, ex¬
cites a painful disorder called colic, a name given to the
disease, because its most usual seat is in the intestinum
colon.
The intestines are likewise frequently distended with
air, and this distension sometimes occasions pain, and
constitutes the flatulent colic.
The arteries of the intestines are continuations of the
mesenteric arteries, which are derived in two consider¬
able branches from the aorta.—The redundant blood
is carried back into the vena portarum.
In the rectum the veins are called hcemorrhoidal, and
are there distinguished into internal and external: the
first are branches of the inferior mesenteric vein, but
the latter pass into other veins. Sometimes these veins
are distended with blood from obstructions, from weak¬
ness of their coats, or from other causes, and what we
call the hcemorrhoids takes place. In this disease they
are sometimes ruptured j and the discharge of blood
which consequently follows has probably occasioned
them to be called hcemorrhoidal veins.
The nerves of the intestines are derived from the
eighth pair.
Sect. VI. Of the Mesentery*
The name of the mesentery implies its situation ^
amidst the intestines. It is in fact a part of the peri-
tonseum, being a reduplication (a) of that membrane
from each side of the lumbar vertebrae, to which it is
firmly attached, so that it is formed of two laminae con¬
nected to each other by cellular membrane.
The intestines, in their different circumvolutions,
form a great number of arches, and the mesentery ac¬
companies them through all these turns j but by being
attached
ANATOMY.
(y) This is not invariably the case $ for the contents of a clyster have been found not only to reach the small
intestines, but to be voided at the mouth. Such instances, however, are not common.
(z) Some writers have distinguished these glands into miliary, lenticular, &c. Brunner and Peyer were the
first anatomists who described the glands of the intestines, and their descriptions were chiefly taken from animals,
these glandular appearances not seeming to have been hitherto satisfactorily pointed out in the human subject.
It is now pretty generally believed, that the mucus which everywhere lubricates the alimentary canal, is exhaled
from the minute ends of arteries j and that these extremities first open into a hollow vesicle, from whence the de¬
posited juice of several branches flows out through one common orifice.
(a) He who only reads of the reduplication of membranes, will perhaps not easily understand how the peri¬
tonaeum and pleura are reflected over the viscera in their several cavities for one of these serves the same pur¬
pose in the thorax that the .other does in the abdomen. This disposition, for the discovery of which we are
indebted .to modern anatomists, constitutes a curious part of anatomical knowledge : .but the student, unaided
by experience, and assisted only by what the limits of this work would permit us to say on the occasion, would
probably imbibe only confused ideas of the matter 5 and it will perfectly answer the present purpose, if he con¬
siders, the mesentery as a membrane attached by one of its sides to the lumbar vertebrae, and by the other to tho
intestines. ^ J
2
ANATOMY.
Wap. HI.
tl attached only to the hollow part of each arch, it is found
, ('n;,;eto have only a third of the extent of the intestines,
x ' That part of the membrane which accompanies the
email intestines is the mesentery, properly so called j but
those parts of it which are attached to the colon and
rectum are distinguished by the names of wzmi-co/cw and
meso-rectum.
There are many conglobate glands dispersed through
this double membrane, through which the lacteals and
lymphatics pass in their way to the thoracic duct. The
blood-vessels of the mesentery were described in speak¬
ing of the intestines.
This membrane, by its attachment to the vertebras,
serves to keep the intestines in their natural situation.
The idea usually formed of the colic called miserere, is
perfectly erroneous j it being impossible that the in¬
testines can be twisted j as many suppose they are, in
that disease, their attachment to the mesentery effec¬
tually preventing such an accident—but a disarrange¬
ment sometimes takes place in the intestinal canal itself,
which is productive of disagreeable and Sometimes fatal
consequences. This is by an introsusception of the in¬
testine, an idea of which may be easily formed, by ta¬
king the finger of a glove, and involving one part of it
within the other.
If inflammation takes place, the stricture in this case
is increased, and the peristaltic motion of the intestines
(by which is meant the progressive motion of the faeces
downwards) is inverted, and what is called t\\e, iliac pas¬
sion takes place. The same effects may be occasioned
by a descent of the intestine, or of the omentum either
with it or by itself, and thus constituting what is called a
hernia or rupture; a term by which in general is meant
the falling down or protrusion of any part of the intes¬
tine or omentum, which ought naturally to be contain¬
ed within the cavity of the belly.
To convey an idea of the manner in which such a
descent takes place, it will be necessary to observe, that
the lower edge of the tendon of the musculus obliquus
externus, is stretched from the fore part of the os ilium
or haunch bone to the os pubis, and constitutes what is
called Pouparfs or Fallopius's ligament, forming an
opening, through which pass the great crural artery
and vein. Near the os pubis the same tendinous fibres
are separated from each other, and form an opening on
each side, called the abdominal ring, through which the
spermatic vessels pass in men, and the ligamenta uteri
in women. In consequence of violent efforts, or per¬
haps of natural causes, the intestines are found some¬
times to pass through these openings j but the perito¬
naeum which encloses them, when in their natural cavity,
still continues to surround them even in their descent.
This membrane does not become torn or lacerated by
the violence, as might be easily imagined j but its dila-
tability enables it to pass out with the viscus, which it
encloses as it were in a bag, and thus forms what is
called the hernial sac.
If the hernia be under Poupart’s ligament, it is cal-
^ femoral; if in the groin inguinal (b) j and scrotal,
if in the scrotum. Different names are likewise given to
the hernia as the contents of the sac differ, whether of
omentum only, or intestine, or both but these defini- Of the
tions more properly belong to the province of surgery. Abdomen.^
Sect. VII. Of the Pancreas,
The pancreas is a conglomerate gland, placed be¬
hind the bottom of the stomach, towards the first ver-
tebra of the loins j shaped like a dog’s tongue, with its
point stretched out towards the spleen, and its other end
extending towards the duodenum. It is about eight
fingers breadth in length, two or three in width, and
one in thickness.
This viscus, which is of a Yellowish colour, some¬
what inclining to red, is covei’ed with a membrane which
it derives from the peritonaeum. Its arteries, which
are rather numerous than large, are derived chiefly
from the splenic and hepatic, and its veins pass into the
veins of the same name.—Its nerves are derived from
the intercostal.
The many little glands of which it has been observed
the pancreas is composed, all serve to secrete a liquor
called the pancreatic juice, which in its colour, consist¬
ence, and other properties, does not seem to differ from
the saliva. Each of these glands sends out a little ex¬
cretory duct, which, uniting with others, help to form
larger ducts 5 and all these at last terminate in one
common excretory duct (first discovered by Virtsungus
in 1642), which runs through the middle of the gland,
and is now usually called ductuspancreaticus Virtsungi.
This canal opens into the intestinum duodenum, some¬
times by the same orifice with the biliary duct, and some¬
times by a distinct opening. The liquor it discharges
being of a mild and insipid nature, serves to dilute the
alimentary pulp, and to incorporate it more easily with
the bile.
Sect. VIII. Of the Liver.
The liver is a viscus of considerable size, and of a
reddish colour ; convex superiorly and anteriorly where 5
it is placed under the ribs and diaphragm, and of an
unequal form posteriorly. It is chiefly situated in
the right hypochondrium, and under the false ribs j
but it likewise extends into the epigastric region, where
it borders upon the stomach. It is covered by a pro¬
duction of the peritonaeum, which serves to attach it
by three of its reduplications to the false ribs. These
reduplications are called ligaments, though very differ¬
ent in their texture from what are called by the same
name in other parts of the body. The umbilical cord,
too, which in the foetus is pervious, gradually become*
a simple ligament after birth j and by passing to the
liver, serves likewise to secure it in its situation.
At the posterior part of this organ, where the um¬
bilical vessels enter, it is found divided into two
lobes. Of these, the largest is placed in the right hy¬
pochondrium; the other, which covers part of the sto¬
mach, is called the little lobe. All the vessels which
go to the liver pass in at the fissure we have mention¬
ed ; and the production of the peritonaeum, which in¬
vests the liver, was described by Glisson, an English .
anatomist, as accompanying them in their passage, and
surrounding
(b) The hernia congenita will be considered with the male organs of generation, with which it is intimately
connected.
2^8
97
A N A T
surrounding them like a glove j hence this production
n. lias been commonly known by the name of capsula of
Glisson : but it appears to be chiefly a continuation of
the cellular membrane which covers the vena portae
ventral is.
The liver was considered by the ancients as an organ
destined to prepare and perfect the blood $ but later
discoveries have proved, that this opinion was wrong,
and that the liver is a glandular substance formed for
the secretion of the bile.
The blood is conveyed to the liver by the hepatic
artery and the vena portae. This is contrary to the
mode of circulation in other parts, where veins only
serve to carry off the redundant blood : but in this vis-
cus the hepatic artery, which is derived from the cae-
liac, is principally destined for its nourishment; and the
vena portae, which is formed by the union of the veins
from most of the abdominal viscera, furnishes the blood
from which the bile is chiefly to be separated : so that
these two series of vessels serve very distinct purposes.
The vena portae, as it is ramified through the liver,
performs the office both of a vein and an artery; for
like the former it returns the blood from the extremi¬
ties of arteries, while as the latter it prepares it for se¬
cretion.
The nerves of the liver are branches of the intercos¬
tal and par vagum. The bile, after being separated
from the mass of blood, in a manner of which mention
will be made in another place, is conveyed out of this
organ by very minute excretory ducts, called pori bi¬
ll aru ; these uniting together like the excretory ducts
m the pancreas, gradually form larger ones, which at
length terminate in a considerable channel called ductus
hcpaticas.
Of the
Abdomen.
Sect. IX. O f the Gall-Bladder.
I HE gall-bladder is a little membranous bag, shaped
like a pear, and attached to the posterior and almost
inferior part of the great lobe of the liver.
It has two tunics ; of which the exterior one is a
production of the peritonaeum. The interior, or villous
coat, is supplied with a mucus that defends it from the
acrimony of the bile. These two coverings are inti¬
mately connected by means of cellular membrane, which
trom its firm glistening appearance has generally been
spoken ot as a muscular tunic.
The gall-bladder is supplied with blood-vessels from
the hepatic arteries. These branches are called the
Wood aiterieS' aml the cystic veins carry back the
of rteliiT a,e <1':r:ved fr0m 11,8 Same or‘S‘n as those
I he neck of the gall-bladder is continued in the
°r'n aCanal eaUed^ctas cysticus, which soon unites
with the ductus hepaticus we described as the excre
tory duct of the liver; and forming one common ca
nai, takes the name of ductus chdedochus communis
through which both the cystic and hepatic bile are dis’
O M \. Part I,
charged into tiie duodenum. This canal opens into the
intestine in an oblique direction, first passing through
the exterior tunic, and then piercing the other coats
after running between each of them a very little way.
This economy serves two useful purposes 3—to promote
the discharge of bile, and to prevent its return. ^
The bile may be defined to be a natural liquid soap, 0f the bile
somewhat unctuous and bitter, and of a yellowish co¬
lour, which easily mixes with water, oil, and vinous
spirits, and is capable of dissolving resinous substances.
From some late experiments made by M. Cadet *, it
appears to be formed of an animal oil, combined with
the alkaline base of sea salt, a salt of the nature of
milk, and a calcareous earth which is slightly ferrugi-
* Mem. de
l’Acad, dei
Sciences,
1767.
nous.
Its definition seems sufficiently to point out the uses
for which it is intended (c). It blends the alimentary
mass, by dividing and attenuating it 3 corrects the too
great disposition to acescency, which the aliment ac¬
quires in the stomach 3 and, finally, by its acrimony,
tends to excite the peristaltic motion of the intes¬
tines.
After what has been said, it will be conceived that
there are two sorts of bile : one of which is derived
immediately from the liver through the hepatic duct,
and the other from the gall-bladder. These two biles,
however, do not essentially differ from each other.
The hepatic bile indeed is milder, and more liquid than
the cystic, which is constantly thicker and yellower:
and by being bitterer, seems to possess greater activity
than the other.
Every body knows the source of the hepatic bile,
that it is secreted from the mass of blood by the liver 3
but the origin of the cystic bile has occasioned no little
controversy amongst anatomical writers. There are
some who contend, that it is separated in the substance
of the liver, from whence it passes into the gall-bladder
through particular vessels. In deer, and in some other
quadrupeds, as well as in several birds and fishes, there
is an evident communication, by means of particular
vessels, between the liver and the gall-bladder. Bian-
ci.i, Winslow, and others, have asserted the existence
0 such vessels in the human subject, and named them
epaticystic ducts ; but it is certain that no such ducts
exist. In obstructions of the cystic duct, the gall-
adder has been found shrivelled and empty : so that
we may consider the gall-bladder as a reservoir of he¬
patic bile 3 and that it is an established fact, that the
whole of the bile contained in the gall-bladder is de¬
rived from the liver 3 that it passes from the hepatic or
Tf6 iur1C ^Ucf’ ant^ Ii’om that to the gall-bladder.
he difference in the colour, consistence, and taste of
tu. ji e, is merely the consequence of stagnation and
absorption. When the stomach is distended with ali¬
ment, this reservoir undergoes a certain degree of com¬
pression, and the bile passes out into the intestinal ca-
na ; an in the eftorts to vomit, the gall-bladder seems
to be constantly affected, and at such times discharges
Useli of its contents.
Sometimes
titious and useless Buid1!0 "0t >c1uau"ed Wl'h Ibe real use of the liver, considered the bile ns an excremen-
hap. HI- _ A N A T
Of’tlie Sometimes the bile concretes in the gall-bladder, so
bdomen. as to form what are called gall-stones (d). When these
—V—concretions pass into the cystic duct, they sometimes oc¬
casion exquisite pain, by distending the canal in their
way to the duodenum *, and by lodging in the ductus
choledochus communis, and obstructing the course ol
the bile, this fluid will be absorbed, and by being car¬
ried back into the circulation occasion a temporary
jaundice.
Sect. X. Of the Spleen.
The spleen is a soft and spongy viscus, of a bluish
colour, and about five or six fingers breadth in length,
and three in width, situated in the left hypochondrium,
between the stomach and the false ribs. That side of
it which is placed on the side of the ribs is convex }
and the other, which is turned towards the stomach, is
concave.
The splenic artery, which is a branch from the ca>
liac, supplies this viscus with blood, and a vein of the
same name carries it back into the vena portae.
Its nerves are derived from a particular plexus called
the splenic, which is formed by branches of the interco¬
stal nerve, and by the eighth pair, or par vagum.
The ancients, who supposed two sorts of bile, consi¬
dered the spleen as the receptacle of what they called
atra bilis. Havers, who wrote professedly on the bones,
determined its use to be that of secreting the synovia j
and the late Mr Hewson imagined, that it concurred
with the thymus and lymphatic glands of the body in
forming the red globules of the blood. All these opi¬
nions seem to be equally fanciful. The want of an ex¬
cretory duct has occasioned the real use of this viscus to
be still doubtful. Perhaps the blood undergoes some
change in it, which may assist in the preparation of the
bile. This is the opinion of the generality of modern
physiologists j and the great quantity of blood with
which it is supplied, together with the course of its
veins into the vena portae, seem to render this notion
probable.
Sect. XI. Of the Glandules Renales, Kidneys, and
Ureters.
ito The glandulae renales, which were by the ancients
supposed to secrete the atra bilis, and by them named
capsulce atrabiliares, are two flat bodies of an irregular
figure, one on each side between the kidney and the
aorta.
In the foetus they are as large as the kidneys : but
they do not increase afterwards in proportion to those
parts*, and in adults and old people they are generally
found shrivelled, and much wasted. They have their
arteries and veins. Their arteries usually arise from
the splenic or the emulgent, and sometimes from the
O M Y. 239
aorta j and their veins go to the neighbouring veins, or Of the
to the vena cava. Their nerves are branches of the in- Abdomen.^
tercostal. v
The use of these parts is not yet perfectly known.
In the foetus the secretion of urine must be in a very
small quantity, and a part of the blood may perhaps then
pass through these channels, which in the adult is car¬
ried to the kidneys to supply the matter of urine. Ior
The kidneys are two in number, situated one on the Kidneys,
right and the other on the left side in the lumbar re¬
gion, between the last false rib and the os ilium, by
the sides of the vertebrae. Each kidney in its figure
resembles a sort of bean, which from its shape is called
kidney bean. The concave pait of each kidney is
turned towards the aorta and vena cava ascendens.
They are surrounded by a good deal of fat, and re¬
ceive a coat from the peritonaeum 5 and when this is
removed, a very fine membrane is found investing
their substance and the vessels which ramify through
them.
Each kidney has a considerable artery and vein, which
are called the emulgent. The artery is a branch from
the aorta, and the vein passes into the vena cava. Their
nerves, which every where accompany the blood vessels,
arise from a considerable plexus, which is derived from
the intercostal.
In each kidney, which in the adult is of a pretty
firm texture, there are three substances to be distin¬
guished (e). The outer part is glandular or cortical,
beyond this is the vascular or tubular substance, and the
inner part is papillarv or membranous.
It is in the cortical part of the kidney that the secre¬
tion is carried on ) the urine being there received from
the minute extremities of the capillary arteries, is con¬
veyed out of this cortical substance by an infinite num¬
ber of very small cylindrical canals or excretory vessels,
which constitute the tubular part. These tubes, as they
approach the inner substance of the kidney, gradually
unite together and thus forming larger canals, at
length terminate in ten or twelve little protuberances
called papillce, the orifices of which may be seen with¬
out the assistance of glasses. These papillae open into
a small cavity or reservoir called the pelvis of the kidney,
and formed by a distinct membranous bag which em¬
braces the papillae. From this pelvis the urine is con¬
veyed through a membranous canal which passes out
from the hollow side of the kidney, a little below the
blood-vessels, and is called ureter. I02
The ureters are each about as large as a common Ureter*,
writing pen. They are somewhat curved in their
course from the kidneys, like the letter f, and at length
terminate in the posterior and almost inferior part of
the bladder, at some distance from each other. They
pass into the bladder in the same manner as the ductus
choledochus communis passes into the intestinum duo¬
denum, not by a direct passage, but by an oblique
course
(d) These concretions sometimes remain in the gall-bladder without causing any uneasiness. Dr Heberden
relates, that a gall-stone, weighing two drachms, was found in the gall-bladder of Lord Bath, though he had
never complained of the jaundice, or of any disorder which he could attribute to that cause. Med. Trans.
vol. ii.
(e) The kidneys in the fextus are distinctly lobulated ; but in the adult they become perfectly firm, smooth*
and regular. _
2 4-0 A N A 1
Of the course between the two coats j so that the discharge of
Abdomen, urine into the bladder is promoted, whilst its return is
prevented. Nor does this mode of structure prevent
the passage of fluids only from the bladder into the
meters, but likewise air :—for air thrown into the blad¬
der inflates it, anti it continues to be distended if a liga¬
ture is passed round its neck $ which seems to prove suf¬
ficiently that it cannot pass into the ureters.
Sect. XII. Of the Urinary Bladder.
The urinary bladder is a membranous and muscular
bag of an oblong roundish shape, situated in the pelvis,
between the os pubis and intestinum rectum in men, and
between the os pubis and uterus in women. Its upper
and widest part is usually called the bottom, its nar¬
rower part the neck of the bladder j the former is only
covered by the peritonaeum.
The bladder is formed of three coats, connected to¬
gether by means of cellular membrane. The external
or peritonaea!, is only a partial one, covering the up¬
per and hack part of the bladder. The middle, or
muscular coat, is composed of irritable, and of course
muscular fibres, which are most collected around the
neck of the bladder, but not so as to form a distinct
muscle or sphincter, as the generality of anatomists
Lave hitherto supposed.
The inner coat, though much smoother, has been
said to resemble the villous tunic of the intestines, and
like that is provided with a mucus, which defends it
^ against the acrimony of the urine.
Of the easily be conceived, from what has been said,
nriae. that the kidneys are two glandular bodies, through
which a saline and excrementitious fluid called urine is
constantly filtering from the mass of blood.
While only a small quantity of urine is collected in
the bladder, it excites no kind of uneasiness : but when
a greater quantity is accumulated, so that the bladder
is distended in a certain degree, it excites in us a cer¬
tain sensation, which brings on as it were a voluntary
contraction of the bladder to promote its discharge.—
But this contraction is not effected by the muscular
fibres of the bladder alone : for all the abdominal mus-
k des contract in obedience to our will, and press down¬
wards all the viscera of the lower belly j and these
powers being united, at length overcome the resistance
of the fibres surrounding the neck of the bladder,
which dilates and affords a passage to the urine through
the urethra.
The frequency of this evacuation depends on the
quantity of urine secreted ; on the degree of acrimony
It possesses j on the size of the bladder, and on its de¬
gree of sensibility.
The urine varies much in its colour and contents.
These varieties depend on age, sex, climate, diet, and
other circumstances. In infants it is generally a clear
watery flu id,without smell or taste. As we advance in
life, it acquires more colour and smell, and becomes
more impregnated with salts. In old people it be¬
comes still more acrid and fetid.
In a healthy state it is nearly of a straw colour 
After being kept for some time, it deposits a tartar-
ous matter, which is found to be composed chiefly of
earth and salt, and soon incrusts the sides of the vessel
k which it is contained. While this separation is
’ O M Y. Part I.
taking place, appearances like minute fibres or threads oftbe
of a whitish colour, may be seen in the middle of the Abdomen,
urine, and an oily scum observed floating on its surface. v—
So that the most common appearances of the mine
are sufficient to ascertain that it is a watery sub¬
stance, impregnated with earthy, saline, and oily par¬
ticles. *
The urine is riot always voided of the same colour
and consistence j for these are found to depend on the
proportion of its watery part to that of its other consti¬
tuent principles.—Its colour and degree of fluidity
seem to depend on the quantity of saline and inflam¬
mable particles contained in it: so that an increased
proportion of those parts will constantly give the
urine a higher colour, and add to the quantity of sedi¬
ment.
The variety in the appearances of the urine depends
on the nature and quantity of solid and fluid aliment we
take in and it is likewise occasioned by the different
state of the urinary vessels, by which we mean the
channels through which it is separated from the blood,
and conveyed through the pelvis into the ureters. The
causes of calculous concretion in the urinary passages,
are to be looked for in the natural constitution of the
body, mode of life, &c.
It having been observed, that after drinking any
light wine or Spa water, it very soon passed off by
urine, it has been supposed by some, that the urine is
not altogether conveyed to the bladder by the ordinary
course of circulation, but that there must cei'tainly exist
some other shorter means of communication, perhaps
by certain vessels between the stomach and the bladder,
or by a retrograde motion in the lymphatics. But it is
certain, that if we open the belly of a dog, press out
the urine from the bladder, pass a ligature round the
emulgent arteries, and then sew up the abdomen, and
give him even the most diuretic liquor to drink, the
stomach and other channels will be distended with it,
but not a drop of urine will be found to have passed in¬
to the bladder ; or the same thing happens when a li¬
gature is thrown round the two ureters. This experi¬
ment then seems to be a sufficient proof, that all the
urine we evacuate is conveyed to the kidneys through
the emulgent arteries, in the manner we have descri¬
bed.—It is true, that wine and other liquors promote a
speedy evacuation of urine : but the discharge seems
to be merely the effect of the stimulus they occasion ;
by which the bladder and urinary parts are solicited to
a more copious discharge of the urine, which was be¬
fore in the body, and not immediately of that which
was last drank 5 and this increased discharge, if the
supply is kept up, will continue: nor will this appear
wonderful, if we consider the great capacity of the ves¬
sels that go to the kidneys j the constant supply of fresh
blood that is essential to health $ and the rapidity with
which it is incessantly circulated through the heart to
all parts of the body.
Sect. XIII. Of Digestion.
We are now proceeding to speak of digestion, which
seems to be introduced in this place with propriety,
after a description of the abdominal viscera, the greater
part of which contribute to this function. By dige¬
stion is to be understood, the changes the aliment un¬
dergoes
Vmp. III. A N A 1
Of the, dergoes for the formation of chyle ;—these changes
>xioiiu;n. are effected in the mouth, stomach, and small iu-
v-”1 ' testines.
The mouth, of which every body has a general
knowledge, is the cavity between the two jaws, formed
anteriorly and laterally by the lips, teeth, and cheeks,
and terminating posteriorly in the throat.
The lips and cheeks are made up of fat and muscles,
covered by the cuticle, which is continued over the
whole inner surface of the mouth, like a fine and deli¬
cate membrane.—Besides this membrane, the inside of
the mouth is furnished with a spongy and very vascu¬
lar substance called the gums, by means of which the
teeth are secured in their sockets. A similar substance
covers the roof of the mouth, and forms what is called
the velum pendulum palati, which is fixed to the ex¬
tremity of the arch formed by the ossa maxillaria and
ossa palati, and terminates in a soft, small, and coni¬
cal body, named uvula; which appears, as it were,
suspended from the middle of the arch over the basis of
the tongue.
The velum pendulum palati performs the office of a
valve between the cavity of the mouth and the pha¬
rynx, being moved by several muscles (f).
^ The tongue is composed of several muscles (g) which
enable it to perform a variety of motions for the arti¬
culation of the voice j for the purposes of mastication j
and for conveying the aliment into the pharynx. Its
upper part is covered with papillae, which constitute
the organ of taste, and are easily to be distinguished ;
it is covered by the same membrane that lin^s the in¬
side of the mouth, and which makes at its inferior part
towards its basis a reduplication called frcenum.
Posteriorly, under the velum palati, and at the basis
of the tongue, is the pharynx *, which is the beginning
of the oesophagus, stretched out every way, s© as to re¬
semble the top of a funnel, through which the aliment
passes into the stomach.
The mouth has a communication with the nostrils at
its posterior and upper part $ with .the ears, by the Eu¬
stachian tubes j with the lungs, by means of the la¬
rynx ; and with the stomach, by means of the oeso¬
phagus.
The pharynx is constantly moistened by a fluid, se¬
creted by two considerable glands called the tonsils,
one on each side of the velum palati. These glands,
from their supposed resemblance to almonds, have like¬
wise been called amygdalus.
The mouth is moistened by a considerable quantity
of saliva. This fluid is derived from the parotid glands ;
a name which by its etymology points out their situa¬
tion to be near the ears. They are two in number, one
on each side under the os malm; and they are of the con¬
glomerate kind ; being formed of many smaller glands,
each of which sends out a very small excretory duct,
which unites with the rest, to form one common chan¬
nel, that runs over the cheek, and piercing the bucci¬
nator muscle, opens into the mouth on each side, by
an orifice into which a bristle may he easily introduced.
O M Y. 241
-—Besides these, the maxillary glands, which are placed ot the
near the inner surface of the angle of the lower jaw on Ahdonm,.
each side } the sublingual glands, which are situated *
at the root of the tongue; the glands of the pa¬
late, which are seated in the velum palati; and those
of the cheeks, lips, &c. together with many other less
considerable ones,—pour tbe saliva into the mouth
through their several excretory ducts.
The saliva, like all the other humours of the body,
is found to be different in different people ; but in ge¬
neral, it is a limpid and insipid fluid, without smell in
healthy subjects; and these properties would seem to
prove, that it contains very few saline or inflammable
particles.
The uses of the saliva seem to be to moisten and
lubricate the mouth, and to assist in reducing the ali¬
ment into a soft pulp before it is conveyed into the sto¬
mach. 106
The variety of functions which are constantly per-Of hunger
formed by the living body, must necessarily occasion a and
continual waste and dissipation of its several parts. A
great quantity is every day thrown off by tbe insen¬
sible perspiration and other discharges ; and were not
these losses constantly recruited by a fresh supply of
chyle, the body would soon effect its own dissolution.
But nature has very wisely favoured us with organs fit¬
ted to produce such a supply ; and has at the same time
endued us with the sensations of hunger and thirst, that
our attention may not be diverted Irom the necessary
business of nutrition. The sensation of hunger is uni¬
versally known ; but it would perhaps be difficult to
describe it perfectly in words. It may, however, be
defined to be a certain uneasy sensation in the stomach,
which induces us to wish for solid food ; and which
likewise serves to point out the proper quantity, and
time for taking it. In describing the stomach, men¬
tion was made of the gastric juice, as everywhere lu¬
bricating its inner coat. This humour mixes itself
with the aliment in the stomach, and helps to prepare
it for its passage into the intestines; but when the sto¬
mach is perfectly empty, this same fluid irritates the
coats of the stomach itself, and produces the sensation
of hunger.
A certain proportion of liquid aliment is required
to assist in the process of digestion, and to afford that
moisture to the body, of which there is such a constant
dissipation. Thirst induces us to take this necessary
supply of drink ; and the seat of this sensation is in the
tongue, fauces, and oesophagus, which from their
great sensibility are required to be kept moist: for
though the fauces are naturally moistened by the mu¬
cus and salival juices ; yet the blood, when deprived of
its watery part, or rendered acrimonious by any natural
causes, never fails particularly to affect these parts, and
the whole alimentary canal, and to occasion thirst.—
This is the common effect of fevers and of hard labour,
by both which too much of the watery part of tbe blood
is dissipated.
It has been observed, that tbe aliment undergoes
some
(F) These are the circumflexus palati, levator palati mollis, palato-pharyngseus, constrictor istbmi faucium,
and axygos uvulae.
(g) "These are, the gemo-glossus, hyo-glossus, lingualis, and stylo-glossus.
Vol II. Part I. t H h
242
ANATOMY.
Part I.
Of the some preparation in the mouth before it passes into the
Abdomen, stomach '? and this preparation is the effect of mastica-
' v tion. In treating of the upper and lower jaws, men-
OfmaJtica. t*on vvas mai^e °f the number and arrangement of the
tion and teeth. The upper jaw was described as being immove-
deglutition. able 5 but the lower jaw was spoken of as being ca¬
pable of elevation and depression, and of a grinding
motion. The aliment, when first carried into the
mouth, is pressed between the teeth of the two jaws,
by a very strong and frequent motion of the lower jaw }
and the tongue and the cheeks assisting in this process,
continue to replace the food between the teeth till it
is perfectly divided, and reduced to the consistence of
pulp. The incisores and canini divide it first into
smaller pieces, but it is between the surfaces of the
dentes molares by the grinding motion of the jaw that
the mastication is completed.
During this process, the saliva! glands being gently
compressed by the contraction of the muscles that
move the lower jaw, pour out their saliva: this helps
to divide and break down the food, which at length be¬
comes a kind of pulp, and is then carried over the basis
of the tongue into the fauces. But to effect this pas¬
sage into the oesophagus, it is necessary that the other
openings which were mentioned, as having a commu¬
nication with the mouth as well as the pharynx, should
be closed j that none of the aliment, whether solid or
liquid, may pass into them, whilst the pharynx alone
is dilated to receive it:—And such a disposition actu¬
ally takes place in a manner we will endeavour to de¬
scribe.
The trachea arteria, or windpipe, through which
the air is conveyed to the lungs, is placed before the
oesophagus: in the act of swallowing, therefore, if
the larynx (for so the upper part of the trachea is call¬
ed) is not closed, the aliment will pass into it in its
way to the oesophagus. But this is prevented by a
small and very elastic cartilage, called epiglottis, which
is attached only to the foi’e part of the larynx $ so that
the food in its passage to the oesophagus presses down
this cartilage, which then covers the glottis or opening
of the larynx ; and at the same time the velum palati
being capable of some degree of motion, is drawn
backwards by its muscles, and closes the openings in¬
to the nose and the Eustachian tubes.—This, however,
is not all. The larynx, which being composed of car¬
tilaginous rings cannot fail in its ordinary state to
compress the membranous canal of the oesophagus, is
in the act of deglutition carried forwards and upwards
by muscles destined for that purpose j and consequent¬
ly drawing the fore part of the pharynx with it, that
opening is fully dijated. When the aliment has reach¬
ed the pharynx, its descent is promoted by its own
proper weight, and by the muscular fibres of the oeso¬
phagus, which continue to contract from above down- 0f the
wards, until the aliment has reached the stomach. That Abdomen,
these fibres have no inconsiderable share in deglutition,
any person may experience, by swallowing with his
head downwards, when the descent of the aliment can¬
not possibly be effected by its weight.
It is necessary that the nostrils and the lungs should
communicate with the mouth, for the purposes of speech
and respiration ; but if the most minute part of our
food happens to be introduced into the trachea, it ne¬
ver fails to produce a violent cough, and sometimes the
most alarming symptoms. This is liable to happen
when we laugh or speak in the act of deglutition j the
food is then said to have passed the wrong way. And
indeed this is not improperly expressed : for death
would soon follow, if the quantity of aliment intro¬
duced into the trachea should be sufficient to obstruct
the respiration only during a very short time ; or if the
irritating particles of food should not soon be thrown
up again by means of the cough, which in these cases
very seasonably increases in proportion to the degree
of irritation.
If the velum palati did not close the passage to the
nostrils, deglutition would be performed with difficulty,
and perhaps not at all $ for the aliment would return
through the nose, as is sometimes the case in drinking.
Children, from a deficiency in this velum palati, have
been seen to die a few hours after birth j and they who
from disease or any other causes have not this part per¬
fect, swallow with difficulty.
The aliment, after having been sufficiently divided
by the action of the teeth, and attenuated by the saliva,
is received into the stomach, where it is destined to
undergo a more considerable change.
The properties of the aliment not being much alter¬
ed at its first entrance into the stomach, and before it is
thoroughly blended with the gastric juice, it is capable
of irritating the inner coat of the stomach to a certain
degree, and occasions a contraction of its two orifices.—
In this membranous bag, surrounded by the abdominal
viscera, and with a certain degree of natural heat, the
aliment undergoes a constant agitation by means of the
abdominal muscles and of the diaphragm, and likewise
by a certain contraction or expansion of the muscular
fibres of the stomach itself. By this motion, every part
of the food is exposed to the action of the gastric juice,
which gradually divides and attenuates it, and pr-epares
it for its passage into the intestines.
Some observations lately published by Mr Hunter,
in the Philosophical Transactions, tend to throw con¬
siderable light on the principles of digestion. There
are few dead bodies in which the stomach, at its great
end, is not found to be in some degree digested (h).
Animals, or parts of animals, possessed of the living
principle,
(k) e e pallanzani, who has written upon digestion, found, from a variety of experiments made
upon qua rupe s, nds, and fishes, that digestion goes on for some time after death, though far less consi-
era e xvmg animals j but heat is necessary in many animals, or at least promotes it in a much greater
egree. e a so, that when the stomach was cut out of the body, it had somewhat of the power of di-
ges ion, oug t is was tn ing when compared with that which took place when the stomach was left in the
0 y. n no one 0 t le animals was the great curvature of the stomach dissolved, or much eroded after death,
ere was 0 en a itt e erosion, especially in different fishes; in which, when he had cleared the stomach of
^ s con en s, ie m erna coat was wanting. In other animals there was only a slight excoriation : and the in-
3 jury
Ohap. HI.
ANATOMY.
243
Of the principle, when taken into the stomach, are not in the
Abdomen, least affected by the action of that viscus} but the mo-
1 v-—' ment they lose the living principle, they become sub¬
ject to its digestive powers. This seems to be the case
with the stomach, which is enabled to resist the action
of its juices in the living body : but when deprived of
the living principle, it is then no longer able to resist the
powers of that menstruum, which it had itself formed
for the digestion of its contents •, the process of dige¬
stion appearing to be continued after death. This is
confirmed by what happens in the stomachs of fishes :
They frequently swallow, without mastication, fish
which are larger than the digesting parts of their sto¬
mach can contain £ and in such cases, that part which
is taken into the stomach, is more or less dissolved,
while that part which remains in the oesophagus is per¬
fectly sound j and here, as well as in the human body,
the digesting part of the stomach is often reduced to
the same state as the digested part of the food. These
appearances tend to prove, that digestion is not effected
by a mechanical power, by contractions of the sto¬
mach, or by heat j but by a fluid secreted in the coats
of the stomach, which is poured into its cavity, and
there animalizes the food, or assimilates it to the nature
of blood.
* Hist, de From some late experiments by M. Sage*, it ap-
VAcademic pears, that inflammable air has the property of destroy-
Royale des*ng an(j dissolving the animal texture : And as we swal-
Sciences, jo° with tjie sub$tances which serve us for food a great
iVsfmm. quantity of atmospherical air, M. Sage thinks it pos¬
sible, that dephlogisticated, which is its principle, may
be converted in the stomach into inflammable air, or
may modify into inflammable air a portion of the oily
substance which is the principle of aliments. In
this case, would not the inflammable air (he asks),
by dissolving our food, facilitate its conversion into
chyle ? . • j
Be this as it may, the food, after haying remained one,
two, or three hours in the stomach, is converted into a
grayish pulp, which is usually called chyvius^ a word of
Greek etymology, signifyingjWce, and some few milky
or chylous particles begin to appear.—-But the term of
its residence in this bag is proportioned to the nature of
the aliment, and to the state of the stomach and its
juices. The thinner and more perfectly digested parts
of the food pass by a little at a time into the duodenum,
through the pylorus, the fibres of which relax to af¬
ford it a passage 5 and the grosser and less digested par¬
ticles remain in the stomach, till they acquire a suffi¬
cient fluidity to pass into the intestines, where the na¬
ture of the chymus is perfectly changed. The bile and
pancreatic juice which flow into the duodenum, and the
mucus, which is everywhere distilled from the suiface
o£ the intestines, mix themselves with the alimentary
pulp, which they still farther attenuate and dissolve, and
into which they seem to infuse new properties.
Two matters very different from each other in their
nature and destination, are the result of this combina¬
tion.—-One of these, which is composed of the liquid
parts of the aliment, and of some of its more solid par- ^
tides, extremely divided and mixed with the juices we
have described, constitutes a very mild, sweet, and
whitish fluid resembling milk, and distinguished by the
name of chyle. This fluid is absorbed by the lacteal
veins, which convey it into the circulation, where, by
being assimilated into the nature of blood, it affords the
supply of nutrition, which the continual waste of that
body is found to require.—The other is the remains ol
the alimentary mass deprived of all its nutritious parti¬
cles, and containing only such parts as were rejected by
the absorbing mouths of the lacteals. This grosser part,
called the faces, passes on through the course of the
intestines, to be voided at the anus, as will be explain¬
ed hereafter ; for this process in the economy cannot be
well understood till the motion of respiration has been
explained. But the structure of the intestines is a sub¬
ject which may be properly described in this place, and
deserves to be attended to.
It has been already observed, that the intestinal ca¬
nal is five or six times as long as the body, and that it
forms many circumvolutions in the cavity of the abdo¬
men, which it traverses from the right to the left, and
again from the left to the right, in one place descend¬
ing, and in another extending itself upwards. It was
noticed likewise, that the inner coat of the intestines,
by being more capacious than their exterior tunics,
formed a multitude of plaits placed at a ceitain di¬
stance from each other, and called valvulce connivenUs.
Now this disposition will be found to afford a farther
proof of that divine wisdom, which the anatomist and
physiologist cannot fail to discover in all their pursuits.
 For if the intestinal canal was much shorter than it
naturally is j if instead of the present circumvolution,
it passed in a direct course from the stomach j and if
its inner surface was smooth and destitute of valves;
the aliment would consequently pass with great rapidity
to the anus, and sufficient time would be wanting to
assimilate the chyle, and for the necessary absorption
of it into the lacteals j so that the body would be de¬
prived of the supply of nutrition, which is so essential
to life and health *, but the length and circumvolutions
of the intestines, the inequality of their internal sur¬
face, and the course of the aliment through them, all
concur to perfect the separation of the chyle from the
fseces, and to afford the necessary nourishment to the
body.
Sect. XIV. Of the Course of the Chyle, and of the
Lymphatic System.
An infinite number of very minute vessels, called the
lacteal veins, arise like net-work from the inner surface
of the intestines (but principally from the jejunum yn&
ileum), which are destined to imbibe the nutritious
fluid or chyle. These vessels, which were discovered by
Asellius in 1622 (1), pass obliquely through the coats
ot
Of the
Abdomen.
10$
jury « all of then, was at the inferior part, or great "re. The
than flesh, or part of the stomach of similar animals put into 1 . thelnternal surface of the stomach,
bodies are invested on all sides by the gastric flu.d whereas .t 0Dly. I considered them
(.) We are informed by Galen, that the lacteals bad been seen m kids by I.ras.stratus, who
244 ANA
Of the the intestine, and running along the mesentery,
Abdomen, unite as they advance, and form larger branches, all
1 of which pass through the mesenteric or conglobate
glands, which are very numerous in the human subject.
As they run between the intestines and these glands,
they are styled vence lactece primi generis: but after
leaving these glands they are found to be less numer¬
ous, and being increased in size, are then called vence
lactece secundi generis, which go to deposit their con¬
tents in the thoracic duct, through which the chyle is
conveyed into the blood.
The thoracic duct begins about the lower part of the
first vertebra lumborum, from whence it passes up by
the side of the aorta, between that and the vena azy¬
gos, close to the vertebrae, being covered by the pleura.
Sometimes it is found divided into two branches 5 but
they usually unite again into one canal, which opens
into the left subclavian vein, after having run a little
way in an oblique course between its coats. The sub¬
clavian vein communicates with the vena cava, which
passes to the right auricle of the heart.
The lower part of this duct being usually larger than
any other part of it, has been named receptaculum chy-
li, or Pecquet's receptacle, in honour of the anatomist
who first discovered it in 1651. In some quadrupeds,
* Hewson's in turtle and in fish, this enlargement * is more consi-
Kxp.Ing. derable, in proportion to the size of the duct, than it
Sirt • usually is in the human subject, where it is not com¬
monly found large enough to merit the name of recep¬
taculum.
Opportunities of observing the lacteals in the human
subject do not often occur ; but they may be easily de¬
monstrated in a dog or any other quadruped that is
killed two or three hours after feeding upon milk, for
then they appear filled with white chyle.
But these lacteals, which we have described as pas¬
sing from the intestines through the mesentery to the
thoracic duct, compose only a part of a system of ves¬
sels which perform the office of absorption, and which
constitute, with their common trunk, the thoracic
’ O M Y. Parti.
duct, and the conglobate glands that are dispersed 0f t{])J
through the body, what may be styled the lymphatic Abdomen.
system. So that what is said of the structure of one of v-~—
these series of vessels may very properly be applied to
that of the other.
The lymphatic veins (k) are minute pellucid tubes,Lymphatio
which, like the lacteals, direct their course towards theves*e!».
centre of the body, where they pour a colourless fluid
into the thoracic duct. The lymphatics from all the
lower parts of the body gradually unite as they ap¬
proach this duct, into which they enter by three or
four very large trunks, that seem to form the lower
extremity of this canal, or receptaculum chyli, which
may be considered as the great trunk of the lymphatic
system. The lacteals open into it near the same place j
and the lymphatics, from a large share of the upper
parts of the body, pour their lymph into different parts
of this duct as it runs upwards, to terminate in the left
subclavian vein. The lymphatics from the right side
of the neck, thorax, and right arm, &c. terminate in
the right subclavian vein.
As the lymphatics commonly lie close to the large
blood vessels, a ligature passed round the crural artery
in a living animal, by enclosing the lymphatics, will oc¬
casion a distension of these vessels below the ligature,
so as to demonstrate them with ease j and a ligature,
passed round the thoracic duct, instantly after killing
an animal, will, by stopping the course of its contents
into the subclavian vein, distend not only the lacteals,
but also the lymphatics in the abdomen and lower ex¬
tremities, with their natural fluids (l).
The coats of these vessels are too thin to be sepa¬
rated from each other j but the mercury they are ca¬
pable of sustaining, proves them to be very strong 5 and
their great power of contraction, after undergoing con¬
siderable distension, together with the irritability with
which Baron Haller found them to be endued *, seems* Sur tt
to render it probable, that, like the blood-vessels, they
have a muscular coat. du sang,
The lymphatics are nourished after the same manner^
as y
as arteries carrying a milky fluid : but from the remote time in which he lived, they do not seem to have been
noticed till they were discovered in a living dog by Asellius, who denominated them lacteals, and considered
lem as serving to convey the chyle from the intestines to the liver", for before the discovery of the thoracic
duct, the use oi the liver was universally supposed to be that of converting the chyle into blood- But the dis-
covery.o tie t loracic uet by Pecquet, not long after, corrected this error. Pecquet very candidly confesses,
a ns discovery accidentally arose from his observing a white fluid, mixed with the blood, flowing out of the
vena cava, after he had cut oft the heart of a living dog; which he suspected to be chyle, and afterwards traced
to its source from the thoracic duct: This duct had been seen near a hundred years before in a horse by Eu-
ojfygg08* W 10 S^ea 8 ° ^ as a vein 0 a Particular structure, but without knowing any thing of its termination
thr0,U,gh the,bod>’ becoming gradually too minute to admit the red globules
Btitutin J tlf; Ivm 1 7 Style<1 CaFlllary °r lym*hat{c arteries' ^ be vessels which are here described as con-
vmnl eitherrtn 7 fir,St suPP°fd ^ be continued from those arteries, and to convey back the
S ’ But we knl twir; 01'/br. th0nieiC duCt> the.offic? of absorption having b^en attributed to the m*
stitute the absorbent snst 16 37^ Ul ,c are not continuations of the lymphatic arteries, but that they con-
p^ent aL who contend /h T •tl11’ very respectable names among the anatomists of the
Ted Itffi’e red veins t 1 ^ ^ U^wIse as absorbents: but it seems to have been clearly pro-
sioued by a disLIfon 0^ ^ °f ^ ^ the ereCtio" °f which " —
in the spleen forInstance^Ynd'tb de<monstratod by opening the artery ramifying through any viscus, as
hap.
Df the
sdonien.
III. A N A T
as all the other parts of the hotly. For even the most
minute of these vessels are probably supplied with still
more minute arteries and veins. This seems to be pro¬
ved by the inflammation of which they are susceptible j
and the painful swellings which sometimes take place
in lymphatic vessels prove that they have nerves as well
as blood-vessels.
Both the lacteals, lymphatics, and thoracic duct, are
furnished with valves, which are much more common
in these vessels than in the red veins. These valves are
usually in pairs, and serve to promote the course of the
chyle and lymph towards the thoracic duct, and to pre¬
vent its return. Mention has been made of the glands,
through which the lacteals pass in their course through
the mesentery j and it is to be observed, that the lym¬
phatics pass through similar glands in their way to the
thoracic duct. These glands are all of the conglobate
kind, but the changes which the chyle and lymph un¬
dergo in their passage through them, have not yet been
ascertained.
'Yhelymphatic vesselshegm from surfaces and cavities
in all parts of the body as absorbents. This is a fact
now universally allowed $ but how the fluids as they ab¬
sorb are poured into these cavities, is a subject of con¬
troversy. The contents of the abdomen, for instance,
were described as being constantly moistened by a very
thin watery fluid. The same thing takes place in the
pericardium, pleura, and all the other cavities of the
body, and this watery fluid is the lymph. But whe¬
ther it is exhaled into those cavities through the minute
ends of arteries, or transuded through their coats, are
the points in dispute. We cannot here be permitted
to relate the many ingenious arguments that have been
advanced in favour of each of these opinions j nor is it
perhaps of consequence to our present purpose to enter
into the dispute. It will be sufficient if the reader can
form an idea of what the lymph is, and of the manner
in which it is absorbed.
The lymph, from its transparency and want of co¬
lour, would seem to be nothing but water } and hence
the first discoverers of these vessels styled them ductus
aquosi: but experiments prove, that the lymph of a
healthy animal coagulates by being exposed to the air
or a certain degree of heat, and likewise by being suf¬
fered to rest: seeming to agree in this property with
that part of the blood called the coagulable lymph.-~
This property of the lymph leads to determine its.use,
in moistening and lubricating the several cavities of the
body in which it is found j and for which, by its gela¬
tinous principle, it seems to be much better calculated
than a pure and watery fluid would be, for such it has
been supposed to he by some anatomists.
O M Y. 24:5
The mouths of the lymphatics and lacteals, by acting Of the
as capillary tubes, seem to absorb the lymph and chyle Abdomen,
somewhat in the same manner as a capillary tube of' v~" '
glass, when put into a bason of water, is enabled to
attract the water into it to a certain height : but it is
probable that they likewise possess a living power,
which assists in performing this office. In the human .
body the lymph, or the chyle, is probably conveyed up-
pon this principle as far as the first pair of valves, which
seem to be placed not far from the orifice of the absorb¬
ing vessel, whether lymphatic or lacteal; and the fluid will
then be propelled forwards, by a continuation of the ab¬
sorption at the orifice. But this does not seem to be
the only inducement to its progress towards the thora¬
cic duct j these vessels have probably a muscular coat,
which may serve to press the fluid forwards from one
pair of valves to another %r and as the large lymphatic
vessels and the thoracic duct are placed close to the
large arteries, which have a considerable pulsation, it
is reasonable to suppose, that they derive some advan¬
tages from this situation..
Sect. XV. Of the Generative Organs ; of Con¬
ception, &c.
§ I. The Male Organs.
The male organs of generation have been usually
divided into the parts which serve to prepare the semen
from the blood, and those which are destined to con¬
vey it into the womb. But it seems ta be more pro¬
per to distinguish them into the preparing, the contain¬
ing, and the expelling parts, which are the different of¬
fices of the testes, the vesicvlce seminales, and t\\G penis ;
and this is the order in which we propose to describe
them.
The testes are two.glandular bodies, serving to se¬
crete the semen from the blood. They are originally
formed and lodged within the cavity of the abdomen y
and it is not. till after the child is born, or very near
that time, that they begin to pass into the groin, and
from thence into the scrotum (m). By this disposition
they are very wisely protected from the injuries to which
they would be liable to be exposed, from the different
positions of the child at the time of parturition.
The testicles in this state are loosely attached to the
psoEe muscles, by means of the peritoneeum by which
they are covered ; and they are at .this time of life con¬
nected in a very particular manner to the parietes of
the abdomen, and likewise to the scrotum, by means of
a substance which Mr Hunter calls the ligament org«-
bernaculum test’s, because it connects the testis with the
scrotum.
at®
(m) It sometimes happens in dissecting ruptures, that the intestine is found in the same sac, and in contact
with the testis. This appearance was at first attributed to a supposed laceration of the peritonaeum $ but later
observations, by pointing out the situation of the testicles in the foetus, have led to prove, that the testis, as it
descends into the scrotum, carries with it a portion or elongation of the peritonaeum, which becomes its tunica
vaginalis, or a kind of sac, in which the testicle is lodged, as will be explained in the course of this section.
The communication between this sac and the cavity , of the abdomen is usually soon cut off i but in some sub¬
jects it continues open during life ; and when a hernia or descent of the intestine takes place in such a subject,
it does not push down a portion of the peritonaeum before it, as it must otherwise necessarily do, but passes at once
through this opening, and comes in contact with the naked testicle, constituting that particular species of rupturs-
called hernia congenita.
246 ANATOM Y. Part
OF the scrotum, and directs its course in its descent. This gu-
Abdomen. bernaculum is of a pyramidal form, with its bulbous
1 ^ head fixed to the lower end of the testes and epididy¬
mis, and loses its lower and slender extremity in the
cellular membrane of the scrotum. It is difficult to
ascertain what the structure and composition of this gu-
bernaculum is, but it is certainly vascular and fibrous ;
and from certain circumstances, it would seem to be in
part composed of the cremaster muscle, running up¬
wards to join the lower end of the testis.
We are not to suppose that the testicle, when de¬
scended into the scrotum, is to be seen loose as a piece
of gut or omentum would be in a common hernial sac.
We have already observed, that during its residence in
the cavity of the abdomen it is attached to the peri-
tonaeum, which descends with it $ so that when the sac
is completed in the scrotum, the testicle is at first at¬
tached only to the posterior part of it, while the fore
part of it lies loose, and for some time affords a com¬
munication with the abdomen. The spermatic chord,
which is made up of the spermatic artery and vein,
and of the vas deferens or excretory duct of the testis,
is closely attached behind to the posterior part of this
elongation of the peritonaeum. But the fore part of the
peritoneal sac, which is at first loose and not attached
to the testicle, closes after a certain time, and becomes
united to the posterior part, and thus perfectly surrounds
the testicle as it were in a purse.
The testicles of the foetus difler only in their size
and situation from those of the adult. In their passage
from the abdomen they descend through the abdominal
rings into the scrotum, where they are supported and
defended by various integuments.
What the immediate cause of this descent is, has not
yet been satisfactorily determined. It has been ascri¬
bed to the effects of respiration, but the testicles have
sometimes been found in the scrotum before the child
has breathed ; and it does not seem to be occasioned by
the action of the cremaster muscle, because the same
efiect would be liable to happen in the hedgehog and
some other quadrupeds, whose testicles remain in the
abdomen during life.
The scrotum, which is the external or common co¬
vering of both testicles, is a kind of sac formed by the
common integuments, and externally divided into two
equal parts by a prominent line called raphe.
In the inner part of the scrotum we meet with a cel¬
lular coat called dartos (n), which by its duplicature
divides the scrotum into two equal parts, and forms
what is called septum scroti, which corresponds with the
raphe. Ihe collapsion which is so often observed to
take place in the scrotum of the healthy subject, when
excited by cold or by the stimulus of venery, seems to
be very properly attributed to the contractile motion of
the skin, and not to any muscular fibres, as is the case Oft!
in dogs and some other quadrupeds. Abdon:
The scrotum, then, by means of its septum, is
found to make two distinct bags, in which the testi¬
cles, invested by their proper tunics, are securely
lodged and separated from each other. These coats
are the cremaster, the tunica vaginalis, and the tunica
albuginea. The first of these is composed of muscular
fibres, and is to be considered only as a partial cover¬
ing of the testis ; for it surrounds only the spermatic
chord, and terminates upon the upper and external
parts of the tunica vaginalis testis, serving to draw up
and suspend the testicle (o). The tunica vaginalis tes¬
tis has already been described as being a thin pro¬
duction of the peritonaeum loosely adhering every¬
where to the testicle, which it includes as it were in
a bag. The tunica albuginea is a firm, white, and
very compact membrane of a glistening appearance,
which immediately invests the body of the testis and
the epididymis ; serving in some measure to connect
them to each other, but without extending itself at
all to the spermatic chord. This tunica albuginea
serves to confine the growth of the testis and epidi¬
dymis within certain limits, and by giving them a due
degree of firmness, enables them to perform their pro¬
per functions.
Having removed this last tunic, we discover the sub¬
stance of the testicle itself, which appears to be made
up of an infinite number of very elastic filaments, which
may be best distinguished after macerating the testicle
in water. Each testicle is made up of the spermatic
artery and vein, and the excretory vessels or tubuli se-
miniferi. There are likewise a great number of absorb*
ent vessels, and some branches of nerves to be met with
in the testicles.
The spermatic arteries arise one on each side from
the aorta, generally about an inch below the emul-
gents. The right spermatic vein commonly passes into
the vena cava : but the left spermatic vein usually emp¬
ties itself into the emulgent on that side; and it is sup¬
posed to take this course into the emulgent, that it
may avoid passing over the aorta, which it would be
obliged to do in its way to the vena cava.
The blood is circulated very slowly through the
spermatic artery, which makes an infinite number of
circumvolutions in the substance of the testicle, where
it deposites the semen, which passes through the tu¬
buli seminiferi. These tubuli seminiferi are seen running
in short waves from the tunica albuginea to the axis
of the testicle $ and are divided into distinct portions by
certain thin membranous productions, which originate
from the tunica albuginea. They at length unite, and
by an infinite number' of convolutions form a sort of
appendix to the testis called epididymis (p), which is
a
slo^ B^t there8 b^rno'™ Tslderetl as a mi,scle> *nd described as such both by Douglas and Win-
fibres Albinus and Haller 1^ 1 ° 16 SCr0t.Um t*,e human subject which can be said to consist of muscular
as a cefiular coat ^ °raitted to the dartos as a muscle, and consider it merely
with a few from th^h'ansveltaTis^^TscInd uponV' ^ ,the,obliquu8 ™ternus abdominis, which uniting
gtnalis of the testicle. It serves’.o suspend and draw “p’^rtetide’. ^ ,nS<i',S 'V '“St "P0" ,,,e tUniCa
its situation upon thrtestide!'11 ^ llle > ani1 tlle nanw of this part was given to it on account of
i lap. III. A N A T
If the a vascular body of an oblong shape, situated upon the
Ldoinen. superior part of each testicle. These tubuli of the
-v ' epididymis at length form an excretory duct called vas
deferens, ■which ascends towards the abdominal rings,
with the other parts that make up the spermatic chord,
and then a separation takes place j the nerves and
blood-vessels passing on to their several terminations,
and the vas deferens going to deposite its semen in the
vesxculae seminales, which are two soft bodies of a white
and convoluted appearance externally, situated ob¬
liquely between the rectum and the lower part of the
bladder, and uniting together at the lower extremity.
From these reservoirs (&), which are plentifully sup¬
plied with blood-vessels and nerves, the semen is occa¬
sionally discharged through two short passages, which
open into the urethra close to a little eminence called
verumontanum.
Near this eminence we meet with the prostate,
which is situated at the neck of the bladder, and is
described as being of a glandular structure. It is
shaped somewhat like a heart with its small end fore¬
most, and invests the origin of the urethra. Internally
it appears to be of a firm substance, and composed of
O M Y.
247
several follicles, secreting a whitish viscid fluid, that is Of the
discharged by ten or twelve excretory ducts into the Abdomen,
urethra, on each side of the openings of the vesiculre
seminales, at the same time, and from the same causes,
that the semen is expelled. As this latter fluid is found
to be exceedingly limpid in the vesiculse seminales ot
the dead subject, it probably owes its whiteness and
viscidity to this liquor of the prostate.
The penis, which is to be considered as the vehicle
or active organ of procreation, is composed of two co¬
lumns, the corpora cavernosa, and corpus spongiosum.
The corpora cavernosa, which constitute the greatest
part of the penis, may be described as two cylindrical
ligamentous tubes, each of which is composed of an
infinite number of minute cells ef a spongy texture,
which communicate with each other. These two bo¬
dies are of a very pliant texture, and capable of con¬
siderable distension ; and being united laterally to each
other, occasion by this union a space above and ano¬
ther below. The uppermost of these spaces is filled
by the blood-vessels, and the lower one, which is larger
than the other, by the urethra and its corpus spongio¬
sum. These two cavernous bodies are at first only se¬
parated
(ft) That the bags called vesiculee seminales, are reservoirs of semen, is a circumstance which has been by ana¬
tomists universally believed. Mr J. Hunter, however, from several circumstances, has been induced to think
this opinion erroneous.
He has examined these vesicular in people who have died suddenly, and he found their contents to be diffe¬
rent in their properties from the semen. In those who had lost one of the testicles, or the use of one of them, by
disease, both the vesiculae were full, and their contents similar. And in a lusus nature, where there was no
communication between the vasa deferentia and vesiculae, nor between the vesiculae and penis, the same thing
took place.
From these observations, he thinks we have a presumptive proof, That the semen can be absorbed in the body
of the testicle and the epididymis, and that the vesiculae secrete a mucus which they are capable of absorbing
when it cannot be made use of: that the semen is not retained in reservoirs after it is secreted, and kept there
till it is used j but that it is secreted at the time in consequence of certain affections of the mind stimulating the
testicles to this action.
He corroborates his observations by the appearance on dissection in other animals; and here he finds, That
the shape and contents of the vesiculse vary much in different animals, while the semen in most of them he has
examined is nearly the same : That the vasa deferentia in many animals do not communicate with the vesiculas:
That the contents of the vesiculae of castrated and perfect animals are similar, and nearly equal in quantity, in.
no way resembling the semen as emitted from the animal in coitu, or what is found in the vas deferens after
death. He observes likewise, that the bulb of the urethra of perfect males is considerably larger than in castrat¬
ed animals.
From the whole, he thinks the following inferences may be fairly drawn : That the bags called vesicula se¬
minales are not seminal reservoirs, but glands secreting a peculiar mucus : and that the bulb of the urethra is
properly speaking the receptacle of the semen, in which it is accumulated previous to ejection.
But although he has endeavoured to prove that the vesiculae do not contain the semen, he has not been able
to ascertain their particular use. He thinks, however, we may be allowed upon the whole to conclude, that
thev are, together with other parts, subservient to the purposes of generation.
Although the author has treated this subject very ably, and made many ingenious observations, some things
may be objected to what he has advanced ; of which the following are a few: That those animals who have
bags called vesicu/ce seminales perform copulation quickly; whereas others that want them, as the dog kind,
are tedious in copulation : That in the human body, at least, there is a free communication between the vasa
deferentia and vesiculse ; and in animals where the author has observed no communication beUveen the vasa de¬
ferentia and vesiculoe, there may be a communication by vessels not yet discovered, and which may be compar¬
ed to the hepato-cystic ducts in fowls and fishes : That the fluid in the end of the vasa deferentia and the vesi-
culse seminales are similar, according to the author’s own observation : That the vesiculae in some animals in¬
crease and decrease with the testicle at particular seasons : That in birds and certain fishes, there is a dilatation
of the ends of the vasa deferentia, which the author himself allows to be a reservoir for the semen.
With respect to the circumstance of the bulb of the urethra answering the purpose of a reservoir, the author
has mentioned no facts which tend to establish this opinion. See Observations on certain Parts of the Animal
Kcvnomy.
£4'*'
A N A T
Of the parated by a partition of tendinous fibres, which allow
Abdomen, them to communicate with each other j but they after-
* 1 ■' wards divaricate from each other like the branches of
the letter Y, and diminishing gradually in siz.e, are at¬
tached, one on each side, by means of the ligamentum
suspensorium petiis, to the ramus ischii, and to the in¬
ferior portion of the os pubis.
The corpus spongiosum penis, or corpus spongiosum
urethrae, as it is styled by some authors, begins as soon
as the urethra has passed the prostate, with a thick
origin almost like a heart, first under the urethra, and
afterwards above it, becoming gradually thinner, and
surrounding the whole canal of the urethra, till it ter¬
minates in a considerable expansion, and constitutes
what is called the glans penis, which is exceedingly
vascular, and covered with papillse like the tongue.
The cuticle which lines the inner surface of the ure¬
thra, is continued over the glans in the same manner
as it is spread over the lips.
The penis is invested by the common integuments,
but the cutis is reflected back everywhere from the
glans as it is in the eyelids j so that it covers this part,
when the penis is in a relaxed state, as it were with a
hood, and from this use is ca\\e& prepuce.
The prepuce is tied down to the under part of the
glans by a small ligament called /ra’wzm, which is in
fact only a continuation of the cuticle and cutis. There
are many simple sebaceous follicles glandulce odo-
riferce, placed round the basis of the glans ; and the
fluid they secrete serves to preserve the exquisite sensi¬
bility of this part of the penis, and to prevent the ill
effects of attrition from the prepuce.
The urethra may be defined to be a membranous
canal, passing from the bladder through the whole ex¬
tent of the penis. Several very small openings, called
lacunae, communicate with this canal, through which
a mucus is discharged into it; and besides these, there
are two glands, first described by Cowper, as secreting
a fluid for lubricating the urethra, and called Cowper's
*glonds (r) ; and Littre * speaks of a gland situated
%oyaledes ne?F the Prostate> as be‘ng destined for the same use.
Sciences. ^ie uretllra being continued from the neck of the
1700. bladder, is to be considered as making part of the uri¬
nary passage ; and it likewise affords a conveyance to
the semen, which we have observed is occasionally dis¬
charged into it from the vesiculue seminales. The di¬
rection of this canal being first under and then before
the pubis, occasions a winding in its course from the
bladder to the penis, not unlike the turns of the let¬
ter S.
The penis has three pair of muscles, the erectores,
acceleratores, and transversales. They push the blood
from the crura to the fore part of the corpora caver¬
nosa. The first originate from the tuberosity of the
ischium, and terminate in the corpora cavernosa.
The acceleratores arise from the sphincter, and by
their insertion serve to compress the bulbous part of
the urethra ; and the transversales are destined to af¬
ford a passage to the semen, by dilating the canal of
the urethra.
O M Y.
Part
The arteries of the penis are chiefly derived from ot t'n.
the internal iliacs. Some of them are supposed to ter- AWcm
minate by pabulous orifices within the corpora caver- “v*
nosa and corpus spongiosum ; and others terminate in
veins, which at last make up the vena magna dorsi pe¬
nis, and other smaller veins, which are in general distri¬
buted in like order with the arteries.
Its nerves are large and. numerous. They arise from
the great sciatic nerve, and accompany the arteries in
their course through the penis.
AVe have now described the anatomy of this organ;
and there only remains to be explained, how it is ena¬
bled to attain that degree of Armness and distension
which is essential to the great work of generation.
The greatest part of the penis has been spoken of
as being of a spongy and cellular texture, plentifully
supplied with blood vessels and nerves, and as having
muscles to move it in different directions. Now, the
blood is constantly passing into its cells through the
small branches of the arteries which open into them,
and is from thence as constantly returned by the veins,
so long as the corpora cavernosa and corpus spongio¬
sum continue to be in a relaxed and pliant state. But
when, from any nervous influence, or other means
which it is not necessary here to define or explain, the
erectores penis, ejaculatores seminis, levatores ani, &c.
are induced to contract, the veins undergo a certain
degree of compression, and the passage of the blood
through them is so much impeded, that it collects in
them in a greater proportion than they are enabled to
carry off, sp that the penis gradually enlarges, and
being more and more forcibly drawn up against the os
pubis, the vena magna itself is at length compressed,
and the penis becomes fully distended. But as the
causes which first occasioned this distension subside,
the penis gradually returns to its state of relaxation.
§ 2. Female Organs of Generation.
Anatomical writers usually divide the female or¬
gans of generation into external and internal. In the
first division they include the mons veneris, labia pu-
dendi,perinceum, clitoris, nymphee, and carunculce myr-
tiformes: and in the latter, the vagina, with the uterus
and its appendages.
The mons veneris, which is placed on the upper part
of the symphysis pubis, is internally composed of adi¬
pose membranes, which makes it soft and prominent :
it divides into two parts called labiapudendi, which de¬
scending towards the rectum, from which they are di¬
vided by the perinseum, form what is called the^wr-
chette. The perinaeum is that fleshy space which ex¬
tends about an inch and a half from the fourchette to
the anus, and from thence about two inches to the
coccyx.
The labia pudendi being separated, we observe a sul¬
cus called fossa magna } in the upper part of which is
placed the clitoris, a small round spongy body, in some
measure resembling the male penis, but impervious,
composed of two corpora cavernosa, arising from the
tuberosities of the ossa ischii; furnished with two pair
1 ^e‘ster Morgagni observe, that they have sometimes not been able to find these glands; so that
they do not seem to exist m all subjects.
-hup.
III. A N A T
Of the of muscles, the erectores clitorldis, and the sphincter or
klamen. constrictor ostii vaginae ; and terminating in the glans,
—v—' which is covered with its prepuce. From the lower
part, on each side of the fossa, pass the nymphae, two
membranous and spongy folds, which seem destined for
useful purposes in parturition, by tending to enlarge
the volume of the vagina as the child’s head passes
through it. Between these, about the middle of the
fossa magna, we perceive the orifice of the vagina or os
externum, closed by folds and wrinkles j and about
half an inch above this, and about an inch below the
clitoris, appears the meatus urinarius or orifice of the
urethra, much shorter, though somewhat larger, than
in men, with a little prominence at its lower edge,
which facilitates the introduction of the catheter.
The os externum is surrounded internally by several
membranous folds called carunculce myrtiformes, which
are partly the remains of a thin membrane called hymen,
that covers the vagina in children. In general the hy¬
men is sufficiently open to admit the passage of the
menses, if it exists at the time of their appearance j
sometimes, however, it has been found perfectly
closed.
The vagina, situated between the urethra and the
rectum, is a membranous cavity, surrounded, especially
at its external extremity, with a spongy and vascular
substance, which is covered by the sphincter ostii va-
ginse. It terminates in the uterus, about half an inch
above the os tincse, and is wider and shorter in women
who have had children than in virgins.
All these parts are plentifully supplied with blood
vessels and nerves. Around the nymphae there are se¬
baceous follicles, which pour out a fluid to lubricate
the inner surface of the vagina ; and the meatus urina¬
rius, like the urethra in the male subject, is constantly
moistened by a mucus, which defends it against the
acrimony of the urine.
The uterus is a hollow viscus, situated in the hypo¬
gastric region, between the rectum and bladder. It is
destined to receive the first rudiments of the foetus, and
to assist in the developement of all its parts, till it ar¬
rives at a state of perfection, and is fitted to enter into
the world, at the time appointed by the wise Author
of nature.
The uterus, in its unimpregnated state, resembles a
pear in shape, somewhat flattened, with its fundus or
bottom part turned towards the abdomen, and its cer¬
vix or neck surrounded by the vagina. The entrance
into its cavity forms a little protuberance, which has
been compared to the mouth of a tench, and is there¬
fore called os tincce.
The substance of the uterus, which is of a consider¬
able thickness, appears to be composed of muscular
and small ligamentous fibres, small branches of nerves,
some lymphatics, and with arteries and veins innume¬
rable. Its nerves are chiefly derived from the interco¬
stal, and its arteries and veins from the hypogastric
and spermatic. The membrane which lines its cervix
is a continuation of the inner membrane of the vagina j
but the outer surface of the body of the uterus is co¬
vered with the peritonaeum, which is reflected over
it, and descends from thence to the intestinum rectum.
This duplicature of the peritonaeum, by passing oft
from the sides of the uterus to the sides of the pelvis,
is there firmly connected, and forms what are called
Vol. II. Part I. t
O M Y. 249
ligamenta uteii lata ; which not only serve to support or ih«
the uterus, but to convey nerves and blood vessels Abdomen,
to it. v ^ r-
The ligamenta uteri rotunda arise from the sides of
the fundus uteri, and passing along within the fore part
of tiie ligamenta lata, descend through the abdominal
rings, and terminate in the substance of the mons ve¬
neris. The substance of these ligaments is vascular }
and although both they and the ligamenta lata admit
the uterus, in the virgin state, to move only about an
inch up and down, yet in the course of pregnancy
they admit of considerable distension, and after partu¬
rition return nearly to their original state with surpri¬
sing quickness.
On each side of the inner surface of the uterus, in
the angle near the fundus, a small orifice is to be dis¬
covered, which is the beginning of one of the tuba;
FallopianEe. Each of these tubes, which are two in
number, passing through the substance of the uterus, is
extended along the broad ligaments, till it reaches
the edge of the pelvis, from whence it reflects back ;
and turning over behind the ligaments, about an inch
of its extremity is seen hanging loose in the pelvis,
near the ovarium. These extremities, having a jag¬
ged appearance, are called jimbrice, or morsus diaboli.
Each tuba Fallopiana is usually about three or four
inches long. Their cavities are at first very small, but
become gradually larger, like a trumpet, as they ap¬
proach the fimbriae.
Near the fimbriae of each tuba Fallopiana, about an
inch from the uterus, is situated an oval body called
ovarium, of about half the size of the male testicle.
Each of these ovaria is covered by a production of the
peritonaeum, and hangs loose in the pelvis. They are
of a flat and angular form, and appear to be composetl
of a white and cellular substance, in which we are able
to discover several minute vesicles filled with a coagu-
lable lymph, of an uncertain number, commonly ex¬
ceeding 12 in each ovary. In the female of riper
years, these vesicles become exceedingly turgid, and a
kind of yellow coagulum is gradually formed within
one of them, which increases for a certain time. In
conception, one of these mature ova is supposed to be
impregnated with the male semen, and to be squeezed
out of its nidus into the Fallopian tube ; after which
the ruptured part forms a substance which in some ani¬
mals is of a yellow colour, and is therefore called cor-
pus luteum; and it is observable, that the number of
these scars or fissures in the ovarium, constantly corre¬
sponds with the number of fetuses excluded by the
mother.
§ 3. Of Conception.
Man, being ever curious and inquisitive, has natu- m
rally been led to inquire after the origin of his exist¬
ence } and the subject of generation has employed the
philosophical world in all ages: but in following na¬
ture up to her minute recesses, the philosopher soon
finds himself bewildered $ and his imagination often
supplies that which he so eagerly wishes to discover,
but which is destined perhaps never to be revealed to
him. Of the many theories which have been formed on
this subject, that of the ancient philosophers seems
to have been the most simple: they considered the
male semen as alone capable of forming the fetus, and
I i believed
250
Of the believed that the female only afforded it a lodging in
Abdomen, the womb, and supplied it with nourishment after it
u—vr—was perfect]y formed. This opinion, however, soon
gave place to another, in which the female was allow¬
ed a more considerable share in conception.
This second system considered the foetus as being
formed by the mixture of the seminal liquor of both
sexes, by a certain arrangement of its several pai-ticles
in the uterus. But in the 16th century, vesicles or
eggs were discovered in the ovaria or female testicles }
the foetus had been found sometimes in the abdomen,
and sometimes in the Fallopian tubes ; and the two
former opinions were exploded in favour of a new doc¬
trine. The ovaria tvere compared to a bunch of grapes,
being supposed to consist of vesicles, each of which had
a stalk; so that it might be disengaged without hurt¬
ing the rest, or spilling the liquor it contained. Each
vesicle was said to include a little animal, almost com¬
plete in all its parts ; and the vapour of the male se¬
men being conveyed to the ovarium, was supposed to
produce a fermentation in the vesicle which approach¬
ed the nearest to maturity ; and thus inducing it to dis¬
engage itself from the ovarium, it passed into the tuba
Fallopiana, through which it was conveyed to the ute¬
rus. Here it was supposed to take root like a vegeta¬
ble seed, and to form with the vessels originating from
the uterus, what is called the placenta; by means of
which the circulation is carried on between the mother
and the fetus.
This opinion, with all its absurdities, continued to
be almost universally adopted till the close of the same
century, when Leeuwenhoek, by means of his glasses,
discovered certain opaque particles, which he described
as so many animalcula, floating in the seminal fluid of
the male.
This discovery introduced a new schism among the
philosophers of that time, and gave rise to a system
which is not yet entirely exploded. According to
this theory, the male semen passing into the tuhoe Fal-
lopianse, one of the animalcula penetrates into the sub¬
stance of the ovarium, and enters into one of its vesi¬
cles or ova. 1 his impregnated ovum is then squeezed
from its husk, through the coats of the ovarium, and
being seized by the fimbria, is conducted through the
tube to the uterus, where it is nourished till it arrives
at a state of perfection. In this system there is much
ingenuity ; but there are certain circumstances supposed
to take place, which have been hitherto inexplicable.
A celebrated modern writer, M. Buffon, endeavours
to restore, in some measure, the most ancient opinion,
by allowing the female semen a share in this office ;
asserting, that the animalcula or organic particles are to
be discovered in the seminal liquor of both sexes : he de¬
rives the female semen from the ovaria, and he con¬
tends that no ovum exists in those parts. But in this
idea he is evidently mistaken ; and the opinion now
most generally adopted is, that an impregnation of the
ovum, by the influence of the male semen, is essential
to conception. Bhat the ovum is to be impregnated,
there can be no doubt; but as the manner in which
Part I
such an impregnation is supposed to take place, and of the
the means by which the ovum aftexwvards gets into Abdomen
the Fallopian tube, and from thence into the uterus, —y—»
are still founded chiefly on hypothesis, we will not at¬
tempt to extend farther the investigation of a subject
concerning which so little can be advanced with cer¬
tainty.
§ 4. Of the Foetus in Utero.
Opportunities of dissecting the human gravid uterus 113
occurring but seldom, the state of the embryo (s)
immediately after conception cannot be perfectly
known.
When the ovum descends into the uterus, it is sup¬
posed to be very minute ; and it is not till a consider¬
able time after conception that the rudiments of the
embryo begin to be ascertained.
About the third or fourth week the eye may disco¬
ver the first lineaments of the fetus; but these linea¬
ments are as yet very imperfect, it being only about
the size of a house fly. Two little vesicles appear in
an almost transparent jelly ; the largest of which is des¬
tined to become the head of the fetus, and the other
smaller one is reserved for the trunk. But at this pe¬
riod no extremities are to be seen ; the umbilical cord
appears only as a very minute thread, and the placenta
does not as yet absorb the red particles of the blood.
At six weeks, not only the head, but the features of the
face, begin to be developed. The nose appears like a
small prominent line, and we are able to discover ano¬
ther line under it, which is destined for the separation
of the lips. Two black points appear in the place of
eyes, and two minute holes mark the ears. At the
sides of the trunk, both above and below, we see four
minute protuberances, which are the rudiments of the
arms and legs. At the end of eight weeks the body
of the foetus is upwards of an inch in length, and both
the hands and feet are to he distinguished. The up¬
per extremities are found to increase faster than the
lower ones, and the separation of the fingers is accom¬
plished sooner than that of the toes.
At this period the human form may be decisively
ascertained : all the parts of the face may be distin¬
guished, the shape of the body is clearly marked out,
the haunches and the abdomen are elevated, the fin¬
gers and toes are separated from each other, and the
intestines appear like minute threads.
At the end of the third month, the foetus measures
about three inches ; at the end of the fourth month,
five inches ; in the fifth month, six or seven inches ; in
the sixth month, eight or nine inches ; in the seventh
month, eleven or twelve inches ; in the eighth month,
fourteen or fifteen inches; and at the end of the ninth
month, or full time, from eighteen to twenty-two
inches. But as we have not an opportunity of examin¬
ing the same foetus at difl’erent periods of pregnancy,
and as their size and length may be influenced by the
constitution and mode of life of the mother, calcula¬
tions of this kind must be very uncertain.
The foetus during all this time assumes an oval fi¬
gure,
A N A T O M Y.
(s) The rudiments of the child are usually distinguished by this name till the human
ascertained, and then it has the appellation of foetus.
3
figure can be distinctly
Cl
hap. III.
Of the gure, which corresponds with the shape of the uterus.
Abdamen. Its chin is found reclining on its breast, with its knees,
‘■“—v ' drawn up towards its chin, and its arms folded over
them. But it seems likely, that the posture of some
of these parts is varied in the latter months of preg¬
nancy, so as to cause those painful twitches which its
mother usually feels from time to time. In natural
cases, its head is probably placed towards the os tincse
from the time of conception to that of its birth $
though formerly it was considered as being placed to¬
wards the fundus uteri till about the eighth or ninth
month, when the head, by becoming specifically hea¬
vier than the other parts of the body, was supposed to
be turned downwards.
The capacity of the uterus increases in proportion
to the growth of the foetus, but without becoming
thinner in its substance, as might naturally be expected.
The nourishment of the foetus, during all this time,
* seems to be derived from the placenta, which appears
to be originally formed by that part of the ovum which
is next the fundus uteri. The remaining part of the
ovum is covered by a membrane called spongy cho¬
rion (t) $ within which is another called true chorion,
which includes a third termed amnios (u) : this con¬
tains a watery fluid, which is the liquor amnii (v), in
which the foetus floats till the time of its birth. On
the side next the foetus, the placenta is covered by the
amnios and true chorion ; on the side next the mother
it has a production continued from the spongy cho¬
rion. The amnios and chorion are remarkably thin
and transparent, having no blood vessels entering into
their composition. The spongy chorion is opaque and
vascular.
In the first months of pregnancy, the involucra bear
a large proportion to their contents 5 but this pro¬
portion is afterwards revex-sed, as the foetus increases
in bulk.
The placenta, which is the medium through which
the blood is conveyed from the mother to the foetus,
and the manner in which this conveyance takes place,
deserve next to be considered.
The placenta is a broad, fat, and spongy substance,
251
like a cake, closely adhering to the inner surface of of the
the womb, usually near the fundus, and appearing to Ab.:i>men.
be chiefly made up of the ramifications of the umbili- 11
cal arteries and vein, and partly of the extremities of
the uterine vessels. The arteries of the uterus discharge
their contents into the substance of this cake *, and the
veins of the placenta, receiving the blood either by a
direct communication of vessels, or by absorption, at
length form the umbilical vein, which passes on to the
sinus of the vena portse, and from thence to the vena
cava, by means of the canalis venosus, a communica¬
tion that is closed in the adult. But the circulation of
the blood through the heart is not conducted in the
foetus as in the adult j in the latter, the blood is carried
from the right auricle of the heart through the pulmo¬
nary artery, and is returned to the left auricle by the
pulmonary vein ; but a dilatation of the lungs is essen¬
tial to the passage of the blood through the pulmonary
vessels, and this dilatation cannot take place till after
the child is born and has respired. This deficiency,
however, is supplied in the foetus by an immediate
communication between the right and left auricle,
through an oval opening, in the septum which divides
the two auricles, called foramen ovale. The blood is
likewise transmitted from the pulmonary artery to the
aorta, by means of a duct called canalis arteriosus,
which, like the canalis venosus, and foramen ovale,
gradually closes after birth.
The blood is returned again from the foetus through
two arteries, called the umbilical arteries, which arise
from the iliacs. Those two vessels taking a winding
course with the vein, form with that, and the mem¬
branes by which they are surrounded, what is called
the umbilical chord. These arteries, after ramifying
through the substance of the placenta, discharge their
blood into the veins of the uterus; in the same manner
as the uterine arteries discharged their blood into the
branches of the umbilical vein. So that the blood
is constantly passing in at one side of the placenta
and out at the other but in what particular manner
it gets through the placenta is a point not yet deter¬
mined.
EXPLANATION
ANATOMY.
(t) Dr Hunter has described this as a lamella from the inner surface of the uterus. In the latter months of
pregnancy it becomes gradually thinner and more connected with the chorion : he has named it membrana cadu-
ca, ov decidua, as it is cast off with the placenta. Signior Scarpa, with more probability, considers it as being
composed of an inspissated coagulable lymph.
(u) In some quadrupeds, the urine appears to be conveyed from the bladder through a canal called urachus
to the allantois, which is a reservoir, resembling a long and blind gut, situated between the chorion and amnios.
The human foetus seems to have no such reservoir, though some writers have supposed that it does exist. From
the top of the bladder a few longitudinal fibres are extended to the umbilical chord ; and these fibres have been
considered as the urachus, though without having been ever found pervious.
(v) The liquor amnii coagulates like the lymph. It has been supposed to pass into the oesophagus, and to
affordi nourishment to the foetus ; but this does not seem probable. Children have come into the world without
an oesophagus, or any communication between the stomach and the mouth j but there has been no well attested
instance of a child’s having been born without a placenta ; and it does not seem likely, that any of the fluid can
be absorbed through the pores of the skin, the skin in the foetus being everywhere covered with a great quantity
of mucus.
II 2
252 A N A T
Of the
Abdomen,
EXPLANATION of PLATES
Plate XXVII.
Fig. I. Shows the Contents of the Thorax and Abdo¬
men in situ.
I, Top of the trachea or windpipe. 2 2, The inter¬
nal jugular veins. 3 3, The subclavian veins. 4, The
vena cava descendens. 5, The right auricle of the
heart. 6, The right ventricle. 7, Part of the left
ventricle. 8, The aorta descendens. 9, The pulmo¬
nary artery. io, The right lung, part of which is
cut off to show the great blood-vessels. 11, The left
lung entire. 1212, The anterior edge of the dia¬
phragm. 13 13, The two great lobes of the liver.
14, The ligamentum rotundum. 15, The gall-bladder.
16, The stomach. 17 ^ The jejunum and ilium.
18, The spleen.
Fig. 2. Shows the Organs subservient to the Chy-
lopoietic Viscera,—with those of Urine and Genera¬
tion.
I 1, The under side of the two great lobes of the
liver, a, Lobulus Spigellii. 2, The ligamentum ro¬
tundum. 3, The gall-bladder. 4, The pancreas.
5, The spleen. 6 6, The kidneys. 7, The aorta des¬
cendens. 8, Vena cava ascendens. 99, The renal
veins covering the arteries. 10, A probe under the
spermatic vessels and a bit of the inferior mesente¬
ric artery, and over the ureters, nil, The ureters.
1212, The iliac arteries and veins. 13, The rectum
intestinum. 14, The bladder of urine.
I'lG. 3. Shows the Chylopoietic Viscera, and Organs
subservient to them, taken out of the Body entire.
AA, Hie under side of the two great lobes of the
liver. B, Ligamentum rotundum. C, The gall¬
bladder. D, Ductus cysticus. E, Ductus hepaticus.
F, Ductus communis choledochus. G, Vena porta-
rum. H, Arteria hepatica. II, The stomach. KK,
Venae et arteriae gastro-epiploicae, dextrae et sinistroe.
LL, Venae et arteriae coronariae ventriculi. M, The
spleen. NN, Mesocolon, with its vessels. OOO, In¬
testinum colon. P, One of the ligaments of the co¬
lon, which is a bundle of longitudinal muscular fibres.
QQQQ, Jejunum and ilium. HR, Sigmoid flexure
of the colon with the ligament continued, and over S,
the rectum intestinum. TT, Levatores ani. U,
Sphincter ani. V, The place to which the prostate
gland is connected. W, The anus.
Fig. 4. Shows the heart of a Foetus at the full time,
with the Right Auricle cut open to show the Fora¬
men Ovale, or passage between both Auricles,
a, The right ventricle. b. The left ventricle,
cc, The outer side of the right auricle stretched out.
dd, The posterior side, which forms the anterior side
of the septum, e. The foramen ovale, with the mem¬
brane or valve which covers the left side, f, Vena
cava inferior passing through g, a portion of the dia¬
phragm.
O M Y. Part
Of lb,
Abdome
XXVII. XXVIII. AND XXIX. ' *1
Fig. 5. Shows the Heart and Large Vessels of a Foe¬
tus at the full time.
a, The left ventricle, b, The right ventricle, c, A
part of the right auricle, d, Left auricle, ee, The
right branch of the pulmonary artery, f, Arteria
pulmonalis. gg, The left branch of the pulmonary
artery, with a number of its largest branches dissected
from the lungs. h, The canalis arteriosus, i, The
arch of the aorta, kk, The aorta descendens. 1, The
left subclavian artery. m, The left carotid artery,
n, The right carotid artery. 0, The right subclavian
artery, p, The origin of the right carotid and right
subclavian arteries in one common trunk. q, The
vena cava superior or descendens. r, The right com¬
mon subclavian vein, s, The left common subclavian
vein.
N. B.—All the parts described in this figure are to be
found in the adult, except the canalis arteriosus.
Plate XXVIII.
Fig. I. Exhibits the more superficial Lymphatic Ves¬
sels of the Lower Extremity.
A, The spine of the os ilium. B, The os pubis.
C, The iliac artery. D, The knee. EEF, Branches
of the crural artery. G, The musculus gastrocnemius.
H, The tibia. I, The tendon of the musculus tibia¬
lis anticus. On the outlines, a, A lymphatic vessel
belonging to the top of the foot. B, Its first division
into branches. c, c, c, Other divisions, of the same
lymphatic vessel, d, A small lymphatic gland, e, The
lymphatic vessels which lie between the skin and the
muscles of the thigh. If, Two lymphatic glands at
the upper part of the thigh below the groin, gg, O-
ther glands, h, A lymphatic vessel which passes by
the side of those glands without communicating with
them 5 and, bending towards the inside of the groin at
(i), opens into the lymphatic gland (k). 11, Lympha¬
tic glands in the groin, which are common to the lym¬
phatic vessels of the genitals and those of the lower ex¬
tremity. m, n, A plexus of lymphatic vessels passing
on the inside of the iliac artery.
Fig. 2. Exhibits a Back View of the Lower Extremi¬
ty, dissected so as to show the deeper-seated Lym¬
phatic Vessels which accompany the Arteries.
A, The os pubis. B, The tuberosity of the is¬
chium. C, That part of the os ilium which was ar¬
ticulated with the os sacrum. D, The extremity of
the iliac artery appearing above the groin. E, The
knee. I, F, The two cut surfaces of the triceps
muscle, which was divided to show the lymphatic ves¬
sels that pass through its perforation along with the
crural artery. G, The edge of the musculus gracilis.
H, The gastrocnemius and soleus, much shrunk by
being dried, and by the soleus being separated from
the tibia to expose the vessels. I, The heel. K, The
sole of the foot. L, The superficial lymphatic vessels
passing over the knee, to get to the thigh. On the
outlines j
2
III.
ANATOMY.
253-
outlines 5 M, The posterior tibial artery, a, A lym¬
phatic vessel accompanying the posterior tibial artery,
b, The same vessel crossing the artery, c, A small
lymphatic gland, through which this deep-seated lym¬
phatic vessel passes, d, The lymphatic vessel passing
under a small part of the soleus, which is left attached
to the bone, the rest being removed, e, The lymphatic
vessel crossing the popliteal artery, f, g, h, Lymphatic
glands in the ham, through which the lymphatic ves¬
sel passes, x, The lymphatic vessel passing with the
crural artery, through the perforation of the triceps
muscle, k, The lymphatic vessel, after it has passed
the perforation of the triceps, dividing into branches
which embrace the ai'tery (1). m, A lymphatic gland
belonging to the deep-seated lymphatic vessel. At this
place those vessels pass to the foi’e part of the groin,
where they communicate with the superficial lympha¬
tic vessels, n, A part of the superficial lymphatic ves¬
sel appearing on the brim of the pelvis.
FlG. 3. Exhibits the Trunk of the Human subject,
prepared to show the Lymphatic Vessels and the
Ductus Thoracicus.
A, The neck. BB, The two jugular veins. C, The
vena cava superior. DDDD, The subclavian veins.
E, The beginning of the aorta, pulled to the left
side by means of a ligature, in order to show the
thoi’acic duct behind it. F, The branches arising
from the curvature of the aox-ta. GG, The two ca¬
rotid arteries. HH, The first ribs. II, The ti’a-
chea. KK, The spine. LL, The vena azygos.
MM, The descending aorta. N, The cceliac artery,
dividing into three branches. O, The superior mesen¬
teric artery. V, The light crus diaphragmatis.
QQ, The two kidneys. R, The right emulgent ar¬
tery. SS, The external iliac ai’teries. gd, The mus-
culi psoae. T, The internal iliac artery. U, The ca¬
vity of the pelvis. XX, The spine of the os ilium.
YY, The groins, a, A lymphatic gland in the groin,
into which lymphatic vessels from the lower extremi¬
ty are seen to enter, bb, The lymphatic vessels of
the lower extremities passing under Poupart’s liga¬
ment. cc, A plexus of the lymphatic vessels lying on
each side of the pelvis. d, The psoas muscle with
lymphatic vessels lying upon its inside, e, A plexus
of lymphatics, which having passed over the brim of
the pelvis at (c), having entered the cavity of the pel¬
vis, and received the lymphatic vessels belonging to the
viscex-a contained in that cavity, next ascends, and pas¬
ses behind the iliac artery to (g). f, Some lymphatic
vessels of the left side passing over the upper side of
the os sacrum, to meet those of the right side, g, The
right psoas, with a large plexus of lymphatics lying on
its inside, h/i, The plexus lying on each side of the
spine, iii, Spaces occupied by the lymphatic glands.
k, The trunk of the lacteals, lying on the under side of
the superior mesenteric artery. /, The same dividing
into two branches, one of which passes on each side of
the aorta j that of the right side being seen to enter
the thoracic duct at (/»). m, The thoracic duct be¬
ginning from the large lymphatics. «, The duct pas¬
sing under the lower part of the crus diaphragmatis,
and under the right emulgent artery. 0, The thora¬
cic duct penetrating the thorax, p. Some lymphatic Qf t]je
vessels joining that duct in the thorax, q, The tho- Abdomen,
racic duct passing under the curvature of the aorta to v
get to the left subclavian vein ; the aorta being drawn
aside to show the duct, r, A plexus of lymphatic ves¬
sels passing upon the trachea Irom the thyroid gland
to the thoracic duct.
Plate XXIX.
Fig. I. Repi'esents the Under and Posterior Side of
the Bladder of Urine, &c.
a, The bladder, bb, The insertion of the ureters,
cc, The vasa deferentia, which convey the semen from
the testicles to dd, The vesiculse seminales—and pass
through e, The prostate gland, to discharge themselves
into f, The beginning of the uretln-a.
Fig. 2. A txansverse Section of the Penis,
gg, Corpora cavex-nosa penis, h, Corpus cavexmo-
sum urethrae, i, Urethra, k, Septum penis. 11, The
septum between the corpus cavernosum urethrae and
that of the penis.
Fig. 3. A longitudinal Section of the Penis,
mm, The corpora cavernosa penis divided by 8,
The septum penis, n, The corpus cavernosum glan-
dis, which is the continuation of that of the urethra.
Fig. 4. Represents the Female Organs of Generation.
a, That side of the uterus which is next the os sa¬
crum. 1, Its fundus. 2, Its cervix, bb, The Fal¬
lopian or uterine tubes, which open into the cavity of
the uterus j—but the other end is open within the pel¬
vis, and surrounded by cc, The fimbriae. dd, The
ovaria. e, The os internum uteri, or mouth of the
womb. ff, The ligamenta rotunda, which passes
without the belly, and is fixed to the labia pudendi.
gg, The cut edges of the ligamenta late, which con¬
nects the uteims to the pelvis, lx, The inside of the
vagina, i, The orifice of the urethra, k, The clito¬
ris surrounded by (I), The praeputium, mm, The la¬
bia pudendi. nn, The nymphse..
Fig. 5. Shows the Spermatic ducts of the Testicle
filled with Mercury.
A, The vas deferens. B, Its beginning, which
forms the posterior part of the epididymis, C, The
middle of the epididymis, composed of sei’pentine
ducts. D, The head, or anterior part of the epididy¬
mis unravelled, eeee, The whole ducts which com¬
pose the head of the epididymis unravelled, ff, The
vasa deferentia. gg, Rete testis, hh, Some rectilineal
ducts which send off’ the vasa deferentia. ii, The sub¬
stance of the testicle.
Fig. 6. The Right Testicle entire, and the Epidi¬
dymis filled with Mercury.
A, The beginning of the vas deferens. B, The vas
deferens ascending towards the abdomen. C, The po¬
sterior part of the epididymis, named globus minor.
D, The spermatic vessels inclosed in cellular substance.
E, The body of the epididymis. F, Its head, named
globus major. G, Its beginning from the testicle.
H, The body of the testicle enclosed in the tunica al¬
buginea. .
CHAP,
ANATOMY.
254
Of the
Thorax.
CHAP. IV. OF THE THORAX.
Part
Of the!
Thora;
THE thorax, or chest, is that cavity of the trunk
which extends from the clavicles, or the lower part
of the neck, to the diaphragm j and includes the vital
organs, which are the heart and lungs, and likewise
the trachea and oesophagus.-—This cavity is formed by
the ribs and vertebrae of the back covered by a great
number of muscles, and by the common integuments,
and anteriorly by two glandular bodies called the
breasts. The spaces between the ribs are filled up by
muscular fibres, which from their situation are called
intercostal muscles.
Sect. I. Of the Breasts.
many months in very large quantities, if the woman
suckles her child.
The operation of suction depends on the principles
of the air-pump, and the flow of milk through the
lactiferous tubes is facilitated by their being stretched
out.
The milk, examined chemically, appears to be com¬
posed of oil, mucilage, and water, and of a consider¬
able quantity of sugar. The generality of physiologists
have supposed that, like the chyle, it frequently retains
the properties of the aliment and medicines taken into
the stomach ; but it has been proved by experiment * Jour.
that this supposition is ill founded. Med. 17
l HE breasts may be defined to be two large conglo¬
merate glands, mixed with a good deal of adipose
membrane. The glandular part is composed of an
infinite number of minute arteries, veins, and nerves.
1 he arteries are derived from two different trunks;
one of which is called the internal, and the other the
external, mammary artery. The first of these arises
from the subclavian, and the latter from the axillary.
The veins everywhere accompany the arteries, and
are distinguished by the same name! The nerves are
chiefly from the vertebral pairs. Like all other con¬
glomerate glands, the breasts are made of a great
many small distinct glands, in which the milk is se¬
creted from the ultimate branches of arteries. The
excretory ducts of these several glands, gradually unit¬
ing as they approach the nipple, form the tubuli lacti-
feri, which are usually more than a dozen in number,
ana open at its apex, but have little or no communica¬
tion, as has been supposed, at the root of the nipple.
These ducts, in their course from the glands, are sur¬
rounded by a ligamentary elastic substance, which ter¬
minates with them in the nipple. Both this substance,
and the ducts which it contains, are capable of consi¬
derable extension and contraction ; but in their natural
state are moderately corrugated, so as to prevent an
involuntary flow of milk, unless the distending force be
very great from the accumulation of too great a quan¬
tity.
ihe whole substance of the nipple is very spongy
and elastic ; its external surface is uneven, and full of
small tubercles. The nipple is surrounded with a disk
or circle of a different colour, called the areola; and on
the inside of the skin, under the areola, are many seba¬
ceous glands, which pour out a mucus to defend the
areola and nipple ; for the skin upon these parts is very
thin; and the nervous papillae lying very bare, are
much exposed to irritation.
rhe breasts are formed for the secretion of milk,
which is destined for the nourishment of the child for
some time after its birth. This secretion begins to
take ptace soon after delivery, and continues to flow for
Sect. II. Of the Pleura.
''The cavity of the thorax is everywhere lined by a
membrane of a firm texture called pleura. It is com¬
posed of two distinct portions or bags, which, by be-
ing applied to each other laterally, form a septum call¬
ed mediastinum; which divides the cavity into two
parts, and is attached posteriorly to the vertebrae of
the back, and anteriorly to the sternum. But the two
laminae of which this septum is formed, do not every¬
where adhere to each other; for at the lower part of
the thorax they are separated to afford a lodgment to
the heart; and at the upper part of the cavity, they
receive between them the thymus.
The pleura is plentifully supplied with arteries and
veins from the internal mammary and the intercostals.
Its nerves, which are very inconsiderable, are derived
chiefly from the dorsal and intercostal nerves.
The surface of the pleura, like that of the perito-
nseum and other membranes lining cavities, is constant¬
ly bedewed with a serous moisture (w), which prevents
adhesions of the viscera.
The mediastinum, by dividing the breast into two
cavities, obviates many inconveniences, to which we
should otherwise be liable. It prevents the two lobes
of the lungs from compressing each other when we lie
on one side; and consequently contributes to the free¬
dom of respiration, which is disturbed by the least
pressure on the lungs. If the point of a sword pe¬
netrates between the ribs into the cavity of the tho¬
rax, the lungs on that side cease to perform their of¬
fice ; because the air being admitted through the
wound, prevents the dilatation of that lobe ; while the
other lobe, which is separated from it by the medi¬
astinum, remains nnhurt, and continues to perform its
function as usual.
Sect. III. Of the Thymus.
The thymus is a glandular substance, the use of 117
which is not perfectly ascertained, its excretory duct
not
stitutes the hydro^pectoris!14^41 ^ t0° great a fluant,ty» or is not properly carried off, it accumulates and cc
lap. IV. A N A
>f the not having yet been discovered. It is of an oblong
horax. figure, and is larger in the fetus and in young chil-
~v—J dren than in adults, being sometimes nearly eft'aced in
very old subjects. It is placed in the upper part of the
thorax, between the two laminae of the mediastinum 5
but at first is not altogether contained within the cavity
of the chest, being found to border upon the upper ex¬
tremity of the sternum.
s Sect. IV. Of the Diaphragm,
The cavity of the thorax is separated from that of
the abdomen by a fleshy and membranous septum call¬
ed the diaphragm or midi'ijf. The greatest part ol it
is composed of muscular fibres } and on this account
systematic writers usually place it very properly among
the muscles. Its middle part is tendinous, and it is
covered by the pleura above, and by the peritonaeum
below. It seems to have been improperly named sep¬
tum transversum, as it does not make a plane trans¬
verse division of the two cavities, but forms a kind of
vault, the fore part of which is attached to the ster¬
num. Laterally it is fixed to the last of the true ribs,
and to all the false ribs: and its lower and posterior
part is attached to the vertebrae lumborum, where it
may be said to be divided into two portions or crura
(x).
The principal arteries of the diaphragm are derived
from the aorta, and its veins pass into the vena cava.
Its nerves are chiefly derived from the cervical pairs.
It affords a passage to the vena cava through its ten¬
dinous part, and to the oesophagus through its fleshy
portion. The aorta passes down behind it between its
crura.
The diaphragm not only serves to divide the thorax
from the abdomen, but by its muscular structure is
rendered one of the chief agents in respiration. When
its fibres contract, its convex side, which is turned to¬
wards the thorax, becomes gradually flat, and by in¬
creasing the cavity of the breast, affords room for a
complete dilatation of the lungs, by means of the air
which is then drawn into them by the act of inspira¬
tion. The fibres of the diaphragm then relax ; and as
it resumes its former state, the cavity of the thorax be¬
comes gradually diminished, and the air is driven out
again from the lungs by a motion contrary to the for¬
mer one, called expiration.
It is, in some measure, by means of the diaphragm,
that we void the faeces at the anus, and empty the uri¬
nary bladder. Besides these offices, the acts of cough¬
ing, sneezing, speaking, laughing, gaping, and sighing,
could not take place without its assistance $ and the
gentle pressure which all the abdominal viscera receive
from its constant and regular motion, cannot fail to as-
T O M Y.
sist in the performance of the several functions which
were ascribed to those viscera.
Sect. V. Gf the Trachea,
The trachea, or wind-pipe, is a cartilaginous and
membranous canal, through which the air passes into
the lungs. Its upper part, which is called the larynx,
is composed of five cartilages. The uppermost of these
cartilages is placed over the glottis or mouth of the
larynx, and is called epiglottis, which has been before
spoken of, as closing the passage to the lungs in the act
of swallowing. At the side of the glottis are placed
the two arytenoid cartilages, which are of a very com¬
plex figure, not easily to be described. The anterior
and larger part of the larynx is made up of two carti¬
lages \ one of which is called thyroides or scutiformts,
from its being shaped like a buckler; and the other
cricoides or annularis, from its resembling a ring. Both
these cartilages may be felt immediately under the skin;
at the fore part of the throat, and the thyroides, by its
convexity, forms an eminence called pomum adami,
which is usually more considerable in the male than in
the female subject.
All these cartilages are united to each other by
means of very elastic ligamentous fibres ; and are ena¬
bled, by the assistance of their several muscles, to dilate
or contract the passage of the larynx, and to perform
that variety of motion which seems to point out the
larynx as the principal organ of the voice ; for when
the air passes out through a wound in the trachea, it
produces no sound.
These cartilages are moistened by a mucus, which
seems to be separated by minute glands situated near
them. The upper part of the trachea is covered ante¬
riorly and laterally by a considerable body, which is
supposed to be of a glandular structure, and from its
situation near the thyroid cartilage is called the thyroid
gland; though its excretory duct has not yet been dis¬
covered, or its real use ascertained.
The glottis is interiorly covered by a very fine mem¬
brane, which is moistened by a constant supply of a
watery fluid. From the larynx, the canal begins to
take the name of trachea or asperia arteria, and extends
from thence as far down as the third or fourth verte¬
bra of the back, where it divides into two branches,
which are the right and left bronchial tube. Each of
these bronchi (y) ramifies through the substance of
that lobe of the lungs, to which it is distributed by
an infinite number of branches, which are formed of
cartilages, separated from each other like those ot the
trachea, by an intervening membranous and ligamen¬
tary substance. Each of these cartilages is of an angu¬
lar figure ; and as they become gradually less and less
(x) Anatomical writers have usually described the diaphragm as being made up of two muscles united by a
middle tendon ; and these two portions or crura form what they speak of as the inferior muscle, arising from
the sides and fore part of the vertebrae. _ lAru
(y) The right bronchial tube is usually found to be somewhat shorter and thicker than the left; and ftJ. Tor-
tal, who has published a memoir on the action of the lungs on the aorta in respiration, observes, that the left
bronchial tube is closely contracted by the aorta; and from some experiments he is induced to conclude, that
in the first respirations,''the air only enters into the right lobe of the lungs. Memoires de VAcademic Roya/e dcs
Sciences, 1769.
2 $6
ANATOM Y.
Part
Of the in their diameter, the lower ones are in some measure
Thom*, received into those above them, when the lungs, after
v being inflated, gradually collapse by the air being push¬
ed out from them in expiration. As the branches of
the bronchi become more minute, their cartilages be¬
come more and more angular and membranous, till at
length they are found to be perfectly membranous, and
at last become invisible.
The trachea is furnished with fleshy or muscular
fibres j some of which pass through its whole extent
longitudinally, while the others are carried round it in
a circular direction ; so that by the contraction or re¬
laxation of these fibres, it is enabled to shorten or
lengthen itself, and likewise to dilate or contract the
diameter of its passage.
The trachea and its branches, in all their ramifi¬
cations, are furnished with a great number of small
glands which are lodged in their cellular substance,
and discharge a mucous fluid on the inner surface of
these tubes.
The cartilages of the trachea, by keeping it con¬
stantly open, afford a free passage to the air, which we
are obliged to be incessantly respiring } and its mem¬
branous part, by being capable of contraction and di¬
latation, enables us to receive and expel the air in a
greater or less quantity, and with more or less velocity,
as may be required in singing or in declamation. This
membranous structure of the trachea posteriorly seems
likewise to assist in the descent of the food, by prevent¬
ing that impediment to its passage down the oesopha¬
gus, which might be expected if the cartilages were
complete rings.
The trachea receives its arteries from the carotid and
subclavian arteries, and its veins pass into the jugulars.
Its nerves arise from the recurrent branch of the "eighth
pair, and from the cervical plexus.
Sect, VI. Of the Lungs.
The lungs fill the greater part of the cavity of the
breast. They are of a soft and spongy texture, and
are divided into two lobes, which are separated from
each other by the mediastinum, and are externally co¬
vered by a production of the pleura. Each of these is
divided into two or three lesser lobes ; and we com¬
monly find three in the right side of the cavity, and
two in the left. J
To discover the structure of the lungs, it is required
to follow the ramifications of the bronchi, which were
described in the last section. These becoming gradu¬
ally more and more minute, at length terminate in the
cellular spaces or vesicles, which make up the greatest
part of the substance of the lungs, and readily commu¬
nicate with each other.
The lungs seem to possess but little sensibility.
I heir nerves, which are small, and few in number, are
derived from the intercostal and eighth pair. This last
pair having reached the thorax, sends off a branch on
each side of the trachea, called the recurrent, which
reascends at the back of the trachea, to which it fur
mshes branches in its ascent, as well as to the oesopha¬
gus, but it is chiefly distributed to the larynx and its
muscles. By dividing the recurrent and superior la¬
ryngeal nerves at their origin, an animal is deprived of
4ts voice. r
There are two series of arteries which carry blood Of the
to the lungs : these are the arterise bronchiales, and the Thorax,
pulmonarv artery.
l he arteriae bronchiales begin usually bytwo branches j
one of which commonly arises from the right interco¬
stal, and the other from the trunk of the aorta: but
sometimes there are three of these arteries, and in some
subjects only one. The use of these arteries is to serve
for the nourishment of the lungs j and their ramifica¬
tions are seen creeping everywhere on the branches of
the bronchi. The blood is brought back from them
by the bronchial veins into the vena azygos.
The pulmonary artery and vein are not intended for
the nourishment of the lungs j but the blood in its
passage through them is destined to undergo some
changes, or to acquire certain essential properties (from
the action of the air), which it has lost in its circula¬
tion through the other parts of the body. The pulmo¬
nary artery receives the blood from the right ventricle
of the heart; and dividing into two branches, accom¬
panies the bronchi everywhere, by its ramifications
through the lungs j and the blood is afterwards con¬
veyed back by the pulmonary vein, which gradually
forming a considerable trunk, goes to empty itself into
the left ventricle of the heart $ so that the quantity of
blood which enters into the lungs, is perhaps greater
than that which is sent in the same proportion of time
through all the other parts of the body.
Sect. VII. Of Respiration.
Respiration constitutes one of those functions which 111
are properly termed vital, as being essential to life ; for
to live and to breathe are in fact synonymous terms.
It consists in an alternate contraction and dilatation of
the thorax, by first inspiring air into the lungs, and
then expelling it from them in expiration.
It will perhaps be easy to distinguish and point out
the several phenomena of respiration ; but to explain
their physical cause will be attended with difficulty :
lor it will naturally be inquired, how the lungs, when
emptied of the air, and contracted by expiration, be¬
come again inflated, they themselves being perfectly
passive P How the ribs are elevated in opposition to
their own natural situation ? and why the diaphragm is
contracted downwards towards the abdomen ? Were we
to assert that the air, by forcing its way into the cavity
of the lungs, dilated them, and consequently elevated
the ribs and pressed down the diaphragm, we should
speak erroneously. What induces the first inspiration,
it is not easy to ascertain j but after an animal has once
respired, it would seem likely that the blood, after ex¬
piration, finding its passage through the lungs obstruct¬
ed, becomes a stimulus, which induces the intercostal
muscles and the diaphragm to contract, and enlarge the
cavity of the thorax, in consequence perhaps of a cer¬
tain nervous influence, which we will not here attempt
to explain. Tlhe air then rushes into the lungs j every
branch of the bronchial tubes, and all the cellular spa¬
ces into which they open, become fully dilated; and
the pulmonary vessels being equally distended, the blood
flows through them with ease. But as the stimulus
which first occasioned this dilatation ceases to operate,
the muscles gradually contract; the diaphragm rises up¬
wards again, and diminishes the cavity of the chest j the
ribs
vhap. IV.
Of the ribs return to their former state $ and as the air passes
Thorax, out in expiration, the lungs gradually collapse, and a
—resistance of the passage to the blood again takes place.
But the heart continuing to receive and expel the
blood, the pulmonary artery begins again to be distend¬
ed, the stimulus is renewed, and the same process is
repeated, and continues to be repeated, in a regular
succession, during life : for though the muscles of respi¬
ration, having a mixed motion, are (unlike the heart)
in some measure dependent on the will, yet no human
being, after having once respired, can live many mo¬
ments without it. In an attempt to hold one’s breath,
the blood soon begins to distend the veins, which are
unable to empty their contents into the heart j and we
are able only, during a very little time, to resist the sti¬
mulus to inspiration. In drowning, the circulation
seems to be stopped upon this principle ; and in hang¬
ing, the pressure made on the jugular veins, may co¬
operate with the stoppage of respiration in bringing on
death.
Till within these few years physiologists were entire¬
ly ignorant of the use of respiration. It was at length
discovered in part by the illustrious Dr Priestley. He
found that the air expired by animals was phlogisticat-
ed : and that the air was fitter for respiration, or for
supporting animal life, in proportion as it was freer
from the phlogistic principle. It had long been observ¬
ed that the blood in passing through the lungs ac¬
quired a more florid colour. He therefore suspected,
that it was owing to its having imparted phlogiston to
the air: and he satisfied himself of the truth of this
idea by experiments, which showed, that the crassamen-
tum of extravasated blood phlogisticated air in pro¬
portion as it lost its dark colour. He farther found,
that blood thus reddened had a strong attraction for
phlogiston ; insomuch that it was capable of taking it
from phlogisticated air, thereby becoming of a darker
colour. From hence it appeared that the blood, in its
circulation through the arterial system, imbibes a con¬
siderable quantity of phlogiston, which is discharged
from it to the air in the lungs.
This discovery has since been prosecuted by two very
ingenious physiologists, Dr Crawford and Mr Elliot.
It has been shown by Professors Black and Irvine, that
different bodies have different capacities for containing
fire. For example, that oil and water, when equally
hot to the sense and the thermometer, contain differ¬
ent proportions of that principle ; and that unequal
quantities of it are required, in order to raise those
substances to like temperatures. The inquiries of Dr
Crawford and Mr Elliot tend to prove, that the ca¬
pacities of bodies for containing fire are diminished by
the addition of phlogison, and increased by its separa¬
tion : the capacity of calx of antimony, for example,
being greater than that of the antimony itself. Com¬
mon air contains a great quantity of fire ; combustible
bodies very little. In combustion, a double elective
attraction takes place j the phlogiston of the body be¬
ing transferred to the air, the fire contained in the air
to the combustible body. But as the capacity of the
latter is not increased so much as that of the former is
257
diminished, only part of the extricated fire will be ah- or the
sorbed by the body. The remainder therefore will raise Thora*.
the temperature of the compound ; and hence we may —v—
account for the heat attending combustion. As the
use of respiration is to dephlogisticate the blood, it seems
probable, that a like double elective attraction takes
place in this process : the phlogiston of the blood be¬
ing transferred to the air, and the fire contained in the
air to the blood ; but with this difference, that the ca¬
pacities being equal, the whole of the extricated fire is
absorbed by the latter. The blood in this state circu¬
lating through the body, imbibes phlogiston, and of
course gives out its fire ; part only of which is absorb¬
ed by the parts furnishing the phlogiston, the remain¬
der, as in combustion, becoming sensible 5 and is there¬
fore the cause of the heat of the body, or what is call¬
ed animal heat.
In confirmation of this doctrine it may be observed,
that the venous blood contains less fire than the ar¬
terial j combustible bodies less than incombustible ones ;
and that air contains less of this principle, according as
it is rendered, by combination with phlogiston, less fit
for respiration (z)
In ascending very high mountains, respiration is
found to become short and frequent, and sometimes to
be attended with a spitting of blood. These symptoms
seem to be occasioned by the air being too rare and
thin to dilate the lungs sufficiently $ and the blood
gradually accumulating in the pulmonary vessels, some¬
times bursts through their coats and is brought up by
coughing. This has likewise been accounted for in a
different way, by supposing that the air contained in
the blood, not receiving an equal pressure from that of
the atmosphere, expands, and at length ruptures the
very minute branches of the pulmonary vessels; upon
the same principle that fruits and animals put under
the receiver of an air-pump, are seen to swell as the
outer air becomes exhausted. But the late Dr Dar¬
win published some experiments, in which he attempt¬
ed to prove, that no air or elastic vapour does exist
in the blood-vessels, as has been generally supposed ;
and he is induced to impute the spitting of blood which
has sometimes taken place in ascending high moun¬
tains, to accident, or to violent exertions 5 as it never
happens to animals that are put into the exhausted re¬
ceiver of an air-pump, where the diminution of pressure
is many times greater than on the summit of the high¬
est mountains.
Sect. VIII. Of the Voice.
Respiration has already been described as affording
us many advantages; and next to that of life, its most ,7'C
important use seems to be that of forming the voice
and speech. The ancients, and almost all the moderns,
have considered the organ of speech as a kind of musi¬
cal instrument, which may he compared to a flute, to
an hautboy, to an organ, &c. and they argue after the
following manner:
The trachea, which begins at the root of the tongue,
and goes to terminate in the lungs, may be compared
to
ANATOMY.
(z) See Crawford’s Experiments and Observations on Animal Heat, and Elliot’s Philosophical Observations*
Yol. II. Part I. f Kk
253
ANATOMY.
Part ]|
Of the to the pipe of an organ ; the lungs dilating like bellows
Thornx. during the time of inspiration ; and as the air is driven
>' ' 1 out from them in inspiration, it finds its passage strait¬
ened by the cartilages of the larynx, against which it
strikes. As these cartilages are more or less elastic,
they occasion in their turn more or less vibration in the
air, and thus produce the sound of the voice ; the va¬
riation in the sound and tone of which depends on the
state of the glottis, which, when straitened, produces an
acute tone, and a grave one when dilated.
M. Ferein communicated to the French Academy
of Sciences a very ingenious theory on the forma¬
tion of the voice. He considered the organ of the
voice as a string as well as a wind instrument 5 so
that what art has hitherto been unable to construct,
and what both the fathers Mersenne and Kircher so
much wished to see, M. Ferein imagined he had at
length discovered in the human body. He observes,
that there are at the edges of the glottis certain tendi¬
nous chords, placed horizontally across it, which are
capable of considerable vibration, so as to produce
sound, in the same manner as it is produced by the
strings of a violin or a harpsichord : and he supposes
that the air, as it passes out from the lungs, acts as a
bow on these strings, while the efforts of the breast
and lungs regulate its motion, and produce the variety
of tones. So that, according to this system, the varia¬
tion in the voice is not occasioned by the dilatation or
contraction of the glottis, but by the distension or re¬
laxation of these strings, the sound being more or less
acute in proportion as they are more or less stretched
out. Another writer on this subject supposes, that the
organ of voice is a double instrument, which produces
in unison two sounds of a different nature $ one by
means of the air, and the other by means of the chords
of the glottis. Neither of these systems, however, is
universally adopted. They are both liable to insupe¬
rable difficulties ; so that the manner in which the
voice is formed has never yet been satisfactorily ascer¬
tained : we may observe, however, that the sound pro¬
duced by the glottis is not articulated. To effect this,
it is required to pass through the mouth, where it is
differently modified by the action of the tongue,
which is either pushed against the teeth, or upwards
towards the palate •, detaining it in its passage, or per¬
mitting it to flow freely, by contracting or dilating the
mouth.
Sect. IX. Of Dejection.
By dejection we mean the act of voiding the fieces
at the anus 5 and an account of the manner in which
this is conducted was reserved for this part of the work,
because it seemed to require a knowledge of respiration
to be perfectly understood.
The intestines were described as having a peristaltic
motion, by which the faeces were gradually advancing
towards the anus. Now, whenever the feces are ac¬
cumulated in the intestinum rectum in a sufficient quan¬
tity to become troublesome, either by their weight or
acrimony, they excite a certain uneasiness which in¬
duces us to go to stool.—To effect this, we begin by
making a considerable inspiration j in consequence of
which the diaphragm is carried downwards towards
the lower belly 3 the abdominal, muscles are at the same
3
time contracted in obedience to the will: and the in¬
testines being compressed on all sides, the resistance of
the sphincter is overcome, and the feces pass out at the
anus 5 which is afterwards drawn up by its longitudinal
fibres, which are called levatores ani, and then by
means of its sphincter is again contracted : but it some¬
times happens, as in dysenteries for instance, that the
feces are very liquid, and have considerable acrimo¬
ny 5 and then the irritation they occasion is more fre¬
quent, so as to promote their discharge without any
pressure from the diaphragm or abdominal muscles 3
and sometimes involuntarily, as is the case when the
sphincter becomes paralytic.
Of the
Thoiax.
Sect. X. Of the Pericardium, and of the Heart and
its Auricles.
124
The two membranous bags of the pleura, which Peiicar-
were described as forming the mediastinum, recede one^u“1-
from the other, so as to afford a lodgment to a firm
membranous sac, in which the heart is securely lodg¬
ed 3 this sac, which is the pericardium, appears to be
composed of two tunics, united to each other by cel¬
lular membrane.—The outer coat, which is thick, and
in some places of a tendinous complexion, is a pro¬
duction of the mediastinum 3 the inner coat, which is
extremely thin, is reflected over the auricles and ven¬
tricles of the heart, in the same manner as the tunica
conjunctiva, after lining the eyelids, is reflected over
the eye.
This bag adheres to the tendinous part of the dia¬
phragm, and contains a coagulable lymph, the liquor
pericardii, which serves to lubricate the heart and fa¬
cilitate its motion 3 and seems to be secreted and ab¬
sorbed in the same manner as it is in the other cavities
of the body.
The arteries of the pericardium are derived from the
phrenic, and its veins pass into veins of the same name 3
its nerves are likewise branches of the phrenic.
The size of the pericardium is adapted to that of the
heart, being usually large enough to contain it loose¬
ly. As its cavity does not extend to the sternum, the
lungs cover it in inspiration ; and as it everywhere in¬
vests the heart, it effectually secures it from being in¬
jured by lymph, pus, or any other fluid, extravasated
into the cavities of the thorax. I2
The heart is a hollow muscle of a conical shape, si-jjeart ar
tuated transversely between the two laminae of the me-its auricl
diastinum, at the lower part of the thorax 3 having its
basis turned towards the right side, and its point or
apex towards the left.—Its lower surface is somewhat
flattened towards the diaphragm. Its basis, from which
the great vessels originate, is covered with fat 3 and it
has two hollow and fleshy appendages, called auricles.
—Round these several openings, the heart seems to be
of a firm ligamentous texture, from which all its fibres
seem to originate 3 and as they advance from thence
towards the apex, the substance of the heart seems to be¬
come thinner.
The heart includes two cavities or ventricles, which
are separated trom each other by a fleshy septum 3 one
of these is called the right, and the other the left, ven¬
tricle ; though perhaps, with respect to their situation,
it would be more proper to distinguish them into the
anterior nab posterior ventricles.
The
Jiap. IV.
Of the The heart is exteriorly covered by a very line mem-
Thorax. brane; and its structure is perfectly muscular or fleshy,
- » being composed of fibres which are described as pas¬
sing in different directions; some as being extended
longitudinally from the basis to the apex $ others, as
taking an oblique or spiral course $ and a third sort as
being placed in a transverse direction (a).—Within
the two ventricles we observe several furrows j and
there are likewise tendinous strings, which arise from
fleshy columnce in the two cavities, and are attached to
the valves of the auricles : That the use of these and
the other valves of the heart may be understood, it
must be observed, that four large vessels pass out from
the basis of the heart, viz. two arteries and two veins $
and that each of these vessels is furnished with a thin
membranous production, which is attached all round
to the borders of their several orifices, from whence
hanging loosely down they appear to be divided into
two or three distinct portions. But as their uses in the
arteries and veins are different, so are they differently
disposed. Those of the arteries are intended to give
way to the passage of the blood into them from the
ventricles, but to oppose its return : and, on the con¬
trary, the valves of the veins are constructed so as to
allow the blood only to pass into the heart. In conse¬
quence of these different uses, we find the valves of
the pulmonary artery and of the aorta attached to the
orifices of those vessels, so as to have their concave
surfaces turned towards the artery 5 and their convex
surfaces, which mutually meet together, being placed
towards the ventricle, only permit the blood to pass
one way, which is into the arteries. There are usually
three of these valves belonging to the pulmonary ar¬
tery, and as many to the aorta j and from their figure
they are called valvulce semilunares. The communica¬
tion between the two great veins and the ventricles is
by means of the two appendages or auricles into which
the blood is discharged ; so that the other valves which
may be said to belong to the veins, are placed in each
ventricle, where the auricle opens into it. The valves
in the right ventricle are usually three in number, and
are named valvulce tricuspides; but in the left ventricle
we commonly observe only two, and these are the
valvulce mitrales. The membranes which form these
valves in each cavity are attached so as to project some¬
what forward j and both the tricuspides and the mitt'a-
les are connected with the tendinous strings, which
were described as arising from the fleshy columnce. By
the contraction of either ventricle the blood is driven
into the artery which communicates with that ventri¬
cle ; and these tendinous strings being gradually re¬
laxed as the sides of the cavity are brought nearer to
each other, the valves naturally close the opening into
the auricle, and the blood necessarily directs its course
into the then only open passage, which is into the ar¬
tery ; but after this contraction the heart becomes re¬
laxed, the tendinous strings are again stretched out,
259
and, drawing the valves of the auricle downwards, the Of the
blood is poured by the veins into the ventricle, from Thorax,
whence, by another contraction, it is again thrown in- v—-
to the artery, as will be described hereafter. The
right ventricle is not quite so long, though somewhat
larger than the left; but the latter has more substance
than the other} and this seems to be, because it is in¬
tended to transmit the blood to the most distant parts
of the body, whereas the right ventricle distributes it
only to the lungs.
The heart receives its nerves from the par vagum
and the intercostals. The arteries which serve for its
nourishment are two in number, and arise from the
aorta. They surround in some measure the basis of
the heart, and from this course are called the coronary
arteries. From these arteries the blood is returned by
veins of the same name into the auricles, and even in¬
to the ventricles.
The muscular bags called the auricles are situated at
the basis of the heart, at the sides of each other j and,
corresponding with the two ventricles, are like those
two cavities distinguished into right and left. These
sacs, which are anteriorly unequal, have externally a
jagged appendix j which, from its having been com¬
pared to the extremity of an ear, has given them their
name of auricles.
Sect. XI. Angiology, or a Description of the Blood
Vessels.
The heart has been described as contracting itself, I2g
and throwing the blood from its two ventricles into
the pulmonary artery, and the aorta, and then as re¬
laxing itself and receiving a fresh supply from two large
veins, which are the pulmonary vein and the vena ca¬
va. We will now point out the principal distributions
of these vessels.
The pulmonary artery arises from the right ventri¬
cle by a large trunk, which soon divides into two con¬
siderable branches, which pass to the right and left
lobes of the lungs : each of these branches is after¬
wards divided and subdivided into an infinite number
of branches and ramifications, which extend through
the whole substance of the lungs; and from these
branches the blood is returned by the veins, which,
contrary to the course of the arteries, begin by very
minute canals, and gradually become larger, forming
at length four large trunks called pulmonary veinsy
which terminate in the left auricle by one common
opening, from whence the blood passes into the left
ventricle. From this same ventricle arises the aorta or
great arteryy which at its beginning is nearly an inch
in diameter: it soon sends off two branches, the coro¬
naries, which go to be distributed to the heart and its
auricles. After this, at or about the third or fourth
vertebra of the back, it makes a considerable curva¬
ture ; from this curvature (b) arise three arteries} one
of
ANATOMY.
(a) Authors differ about the course and distinctions of these fibres ; and it seems right to observe, that the
structure of the heart being more compact than that of other muscles, its fibres are not easily separated.
(b) Anatomists usually call the upper part of this curvature aorta ascendens} and the other part of the artery
to its division at the iliacs, aorta descendensi but they differ about the place where this distinction is to be intro¬
duced ; and it seems sufficiently to answer every purpose, to speak only of the aorta and its curvature,
K k a
2 6o
ANATOMY.
Part li
Of the
Thorai.
of which soon divides into two branches. The first
two are the left subclavian and the left carotid, and the
third is a common trunk to the right subclavian and
right carotid ; though sometimes both the carotids arise
distinctly from the aorta.
The two carotids ascend with the subclavians, along
the sides of the trachea $ and when they have reached
the larynx, divide into two principal branches, the z'»-
ternal and external carotid. The first of these runs a
little way backwards in a bending direction ; and hav¬
ing reached the under part of the ear, passes through
the canal in the os petrosum, and entering into the ca¬
vity of the cranium, is distributed to the brain and
the membranes which envelope it, and likewise to the
eye. The external carotid divides into several branch¬
es, which are distributed to the larynx, pharynx, and
other parts of the neck j and to the jaws, lips,
tongue, eyes, temples, and all the external parts of the
head.
Each subclavian is likewise divided into a great num¬
ber of branches. It sends off the vertebral artery,
which passes through the openings rve see at the bot¬
tom of the transverse processes of the vertebrae of the
neck, and in its course sends off many ramifications
to the neighbouring parts. Some of its branches are
distributed to the spinal marrow, and after a consider¬
able inflection it enters into the cranium, and is distri¬
buted to the brain. The subclavian likewise sends off
branches to the muscles of the neck and scapula j and
the mediastinum, thymus, pericardium, diaphragm, the
breast and the muscles of the thorax, and even of the
abdomen, derive branches from the subclavian, which
are distinguished by different names, alluding to the
parts to which they are distributed ; as the mammary,
the ■phrenic, the intercostal, &c. But notwithstanding
the great number of branches which have been descri¬
bed as arising from the subclavian, it is still a consider¬
able artery when it reaches the axilla, where it drops
its former name, which alludes to its passage under the
clavicle, and is called the axillary artery *, from which
a variety of branches are distributed to the muscles of
the breast, scapula, and arm.—But its main trunk ta¬
king the name of brachialis, runs along on the inside
of the arm near the os humeri, till it reaches the joint
of the fore arm, and then it divides into two branches.
This division, however, is different in different subjects ;
for in some it takes place higher up, and in others low¬
er down. When it happens to divide above the joint,
It may be considered as a happy disposition in case of
an accident by bleeding j for supposing the artery to
be unfortunately punctured by the lancet, and that the
haemorrhage could only be stopped by making a liga¬
ture on the vessel, one branch would remain unhurt,
through which the blood would pass uninterrupted to
the fore arm and hand. One of the two branches of
the brachialis plunges down under the flexor muscles,
and runs along the edge of the ulna j while the other
is carried along the outer surface of the radius, and is
easily felt at the wrist, where it is only covered by the
common integuments. Both these branches common¬
ly unite in the palm of the hand, and form an arterial
arch, from whence branches are detached to the fin¬
gers.
The aorta, after having given off at its curvature the
carotids and subclavians which convey blood to all the
2
upper parts of the body, descends upon the bodies of of tlie
the vertebrae a little to the left, as far as the os sacrum, Tbora*,
where it drops the name of aorta, and divides into v—■
two considerable branches. In this course, from its
curvature to its bifurcation, it sends off several arteries
in the following order : I. One or two little arteries,
first demonstrated by Ruysch as going to the bronchi,
and called arterial broncMales Ruyschii. 2. The arte-
riae cesophageae. These are commonly three or four in
number. They arise from the fore part of the aorta,
and are distributed chiefly to the cesophagus. 3. The
inferior intercostal arteries, which are distributed be¬
tween the ribs in the same manner as the arteries of the
three or four superior ribs are, which are derived from
the subclavian. These arteries send off branches to
the medulla spinalis. 4. The diaphragmatic or infe¬
rior phrenic arteries, which go to the diaphragm, sto¬
mach, omentum, duodenum, pancreas, spleen, liver, and
gall-bladder. 5. The cceliac, which sends off the co¬
ronary stomachic, the splenic, and the hepatic artery.
6. The superior mesenteric artery, which is distributed
to the mesentery and small intestines. 7. The emul-
gents, which go to the kidneys. 8. The arteries
which are distributed to the glandulte renales. 9. The
spermatic. 10. The inferior mesenteric artery, which
ramifies through the lower portion of the mesentery
and the large intestines. A branch of this artery which
goes to the rectum is called the internal hcemorrhoidal.
11. The lumbar arteries, and a very small branch called
the sacra, which are distributed to the muscles of the
loins and abdomen, and to the os sacrum and medulla
spinalis.
The trunk of the aorta, when it has reached the
last vertebra lumborum, or the os sacrum, drops the
name of aorta, and separates into two forked branches
called the iliacs. Each of these soon divides into two
branches 5 one of which is called the internal iliac, or
hypogastric artery, and is distributed upon the contents
ot the pelvis and upon the muscles on its outer side.
One branch, called pudenda communis, sends small ra¬
mifications to the end of the rectum under the name of
hcemorrhoidales externce, and is afterwards distributed
upon the penis. The other branch, the external iliac,
alter having given off the circumflex artery of the os
ilium and the epigastric, which is distributed to the
recti muscles, passes out of the abdomen under Pou-
part’s ligament, and takes the name of crural artery.
It descends on the inner part of the thigh close to the
os femoris, sending off branches to the muscles, and
then sinking deeper in the hind part of the thigh, reach¬
es the ham, where it takes the name popliteal: after
this it separates into two considerable branches ; one of
which is called the anterior tibial artery ; the other di¬
vides into two branches, and these arteries all go to be
distributed to the leg and foot.
1 be blood, which is thus distributed by the aorta
to all parts of the body, is brought back by the veins,
which are supposed to be continued from the ultimate
branches of arteries j and uniting together as they ap¬
proach the heart, at length form the large trunks, the
vena cava ascendens, and vena cava descendens.
All the veins which bring back the blood from the
upper extremities, and from the head and breast, pass
into the vena cava descendens 5 and those which return
it from the lower parts of the body terminate in the
vena
hap. IV. ANA'
Of the vena cava ascendens; and these two cavas uniting to-
Fhorax. gether, as they approach the heart, open by one com-
mon orifice into the left auricle.
It does not here seem to be necessary to follow the
different divisions of the veins as we did those of the
arteries j and it will be sufficient to remark, that in
general every artery is accompanied by its vein, and
that both are distinguished by the same name. But,
like many other general rules, this too has its excep¬
tions (c). The veins, for instance, which accompany
the external and internal carotid, are not called the
carotid veins, but the external and internal jugular.—
In the thorax there is a vein distinguished by a pro¬
per name, and this is the azygos, or vena sine pari.
This vein, which is a pretty considerable one, runs
along by the right side of the vertebrae of the back,
and is chiefly destined to receive the blood from the
intercostals on that side, and from the lower half of
those on the left side, and to convey it into the vena
cava descendens. In the abdomen we meet with a
vein, which is a still more remarkable one, and this is
the vena portce, which performs the office both of an
artery and a vein. It is formed by a reunion of all
the veins which come from the stomach, intestines,
omentum, pancreas, and spleen, so as to compose one
great trunk, which goes to ramify through the liver j
and after having deposited the bile, its ramifications
unite, and bring back into the vena cava, not only the
blood which the vena portae had carried into the liver,
but likewise the blood from the hepatic artery. Every
artery has a vein which corresponds with it j but the
trunks and branches of the veins are more numerous
than those of the arteries. The reasons for this dis¬
position are perhaps not difficult to be explained j the
blood in its course through the veins is much farther
removed from the source and cause of its motion, which
are in the heart, than it was when in the arteries $ so
that its course is consequently less rapid, and enough
of it could not possibly be brought back to the heart in
the moment of its dilatation, to equal the quantity which
is driven into the arteries from the two ventricles at
the time they contract; and the equilibrium, which is
so essential to the. continuance of life and health,
would consequently be destroyed, if the capacity of
the veins did not exceed that of the arteries, in the
same proportion that the rapidity of the blood’s motion
through the arteries exceeds that of its return through
the veins.
A large artery ramifying through the body, and con¬
tinued to the minute branches of veins, which gradually
unite together to form a large trunk, may be compared
to two trees united to each other at their tops $ or ra¬
ther as having their ramifications so disposed that the
two trunks terminate in one common point; and if we
farther suppose, that both these trunks and their branch¬
es are hollow, and that a fluid is incessantly circulated
through them, by entering into one of the trunks and
returning through the other, we shall be enabled to con¬
ceive how the blood is circulated through the vessels of
the human body.
: O M Y. 261
Every trunk of an artery, before it divides, is nearly of the
cylindrical, or of equal diameter through its whole Thorax,
length, and so are all its branches when examined se- *
paratdy. But every trunk seems to contain less blood
than the many branches do into which that trunk se¬
parates $ and each of these branches probably contains
less blood than the ramifications do into which it is
subdivided: and it is the same with the veins j the vo¬
lume of their several ramifications, when considered to¬
gether, being found to exceed that of the great trunk,
which they form by their union.
The return of the blood through the veins to the
heart, is promoted by the action of the muscles, and the
pulsation of the arteries. And this return is likewise
greatly assisted by the valves which are to be met with
in the veins, and which constitute one of the great di¬
stinctions between them and the arteries. These valves,
which are supposed to be formed by the inner coat of
the veins, permit the blood to flow from the extremities
towards the heart, but oppose its return. They are
most frequent in the smaller veins. As the column of
blood increases, they seem to become less necessary,
and therefore in the vena cava ascendens, we meet with
only one valve, which is near its origin.
The arteries are composed of several tunics. Some
writers enumerate five of these tunics j but perhaps we
may more properly reckon only three, viz. the nervous,
muscular, and cuticular coats. The veins are by some
anatomists described as having the same number of
coats as the arteries $ and as they do not seem to be
irritable, we cannot with propriety suppose them to
have a muscular tunic. We are aware of Dr Vers-
chuir’s experiments to prove that the jugular and someriarumct
other veins possess a certain degree of irritability $ but Venarum
it is certain, that his experiments, repeated by others, ™
have produced a different result 5 and even he himself ’ 4
allows, that sometimes he was unable to distinguish any
such property in the veins. Both these series of ves¬
sels are nourished by still more minute arteries and
veins, which are seen creeping over their coats and ra¬
mifying through their whole substance, and are called
vasa vasorum ; they have likewise many minute branch¬
es of nerves.
The arteries are much stronger than the veins; and
they seem to require this force, to be enabled to resist
the impetus with which the blood circulates through
them, and to impel it on towards the veins.
When the heart contracts, it impels the blood into
the arteries, and sensibly distends them j and these ves¬
sels again contract, as the heart becomes relaxed to re¬
ceive more blood from the auricles; so that the cause
of the contraction and dilatation of the arteries seems
to be easy to be understood, being owing in part to
their own contractile power, and in part to the action
of the heart; but in the veins, the effects of this im¬
pulse not being so sensibly felt, and the vessels them¬
selves having little or no contractile power, the blood
seems to flow in a constant and equal stream : and this,
together with its passing gradually from a small chan¬
nel into a larger one, seems to be the reason why the
veins
(c) In the extremities, some of the deep-seated veins, and all the superficial ones, take a course different fiona
that of the arteries.
262
ANATOMY.
Of the veins have no pulsatory motion, except the large ones
Thorax, near the heart 5 and in these it seems to be occasioned
v’’"' by the motion of the diaphragm, and by the regurgita¬
tion of the blood in the cavas.
Sect. XII. Of the Action of the Hearty Auricles^
and Arteries.
l27 The heart, at the time it contracts, drives the blood
from the ventricles into the arteries $ and the arteries
being thus filled and distended, are naturally inclined
to contract the moment the heart begins to dilate, and
ceases to supply them with blood. These alternate mo¬
tions of contraction and dilatation of the heart and ar¬
teries, are distinguished by the name of systole and r/z'rz-
stole. When the heart is in a state of contraction or
systole, the. arteries are at that instant distended with
blood, and in their diastole j and it is in this state we
teel their pulsatory motion, which we call the pulse.
When the heart dilates, and the arteries contract, the
blood is impelled onwards into the veins, through which
it is returned back to the heart. While the heart,
however, is in its systole, the blood cannot pass from
the veins into tne ventricles, but is detained in the au¬
ricles, which are two reservoirs formed for this use,
till the diastole, or dilatation of the heart, takes place \
and then the distended auricles contract, and drive the
blood into the ventricles j so that the auricles have an
alternate systole and diastole as well as the heart.
Although both the ventricles of the heart contract
at the same time, yet the blood passes from one to the
other. In the same moment, for instance, that the
left ventricle drives the blood into the aorta, the right
ventricle impels it into the pulmonary artery, which
is distributed through all the substance of the lungs.
The blood is afterwards brought back into the left ven¬
tricle by the pulmonary vein at the same time that
the blood is returned by the cavas, into the right ven¬
tricle, from all the other parts of the body.
This seems to be the mode of action of the heart
and its vessels : but the cause of this action has, like
all other intricate and interesting subjects, been differ¬
ently explained. It seems to depend on the stimulus
made on the different parts of the heart by the blood
itself, which, by its quantity and heat, or other proper¬
ties (d), is perhaps capable of first exciting that mo¬
tion, which is afterwards continued through life, inde¬
pendent of the will, by a regular return of blood to
the auricles, in a quantity proportioned to that which is
thrown into the arteries.
. lieai;t possesses the vis insita, or principle of ir¬
ritability, m a much greater degree than any other
muscle of the body. The pulse is quicker in young
than in old subjects, because the former are ccet. tmr
more irritable than the latter. Upon the same prin¬
ciple we may explain, why the pulse is constantly
quicker in weak than in robust persons.
Sect. XIII. Of the Circulation.
After what has been observed of the structure and
action of the heart and its auricles, and likewise of the
arteries and veins, there seem to be but very few argu¬
ments required to demonstrate the circulation of the
blood, which has long since been established as a medi¬
cal truth. This circulation may be defined to be a per¬
petual motion of the blood, in consequence of the ac¬
tion of the heart and arteries, which impel it through
all the parts of the body, from whence it is brought
back by the veins to the heart.
A very satisfactory proof of this circulation, and a
proof easy to be understood, may be deduced from the
different effects of pressure on an artery and a vein. If
a ligature, for instance, is passed round an artery, the
vessel swells considerably between the ligature and the
heart j whereas if we tie up a vein, it only becomes
filled between the extremity and the ligature, and this
is what we every day observe in bleeding. The liga¬
ture we pass round the arm on these occasions, com¬
presses the superficial veins ; and the return of the blood
through them being impeded, they become distended.
When the ligature is too loose, the veins are not suffi¬
ciently compressed, and the blood continues its progress
towards the heart; and, on the contrary, when it is
made too tight, the arteries themselves become com¬
pressed ; and the flow of the blood through them being
impeded, the veins cannot be distended.
Another phenomenon, which effectually proves the
circulation, is the loss of blood that every living ani¬
mal sustains by opening only a single artery of a mode¬
rate size j for it continues to flow from the wounded
vessel till the equilibrium is destroyed which is essential
to life. This truth was not unknown to the ancients j
and it seems strange that it did not lead them to a
knowledge of the circulation, as it sufficiently proves,
that all the other vessels must communicate with that
which is opened. Galen who lived more than 1500
years ago, drew this conclusion from it; and if we far¬
ther observe, that he describes (after Erasistratus, who
flourished about 430 years before him) the several valves
of the heart, and determines their disposition and uses,
it will appear wonderful, that a period of near 2000
years should afterwards elapse before the true course
of the blood was ascertained. This discovery, for
which we are indebted to the immortal Harvey, has
thrown new lights on physiology and the doctrine of
diseases, and constitutes one of the most important pe¬
riods of anatomical history.
Sect XIV. Of the Nature of the Blood.
Blood, recently drawn from a vein into a bason,
would seem to be an homogeneous fluid of a red co¬
lour (e) ; but when suffered to rest, it soon coagulates,
and divides into two parts, which are distinguished by
the
Part
Of th
Thora
te/haa^n^avourcd^l-evive^fhis^^ctrine^iil^00^ ^ 'u'"6 i the late Mr J. Hun-
redness is acTrired^nitfpTssagethronghThTlungsr mleet! VIL0^ f'0r!'i "'an '' ‘8 *“ ‘he Ve'm 5 ^ lhis
hap. IV. A N A T
Of the the names of crassamentum and serum. The crassa-
rhorax. mentum is the red coagulum, and the serum is the vva-
—v*””-' ter in which it floats. Each of these may be again se¬
parated into two others ; for the crassamentum, by be¬
ing repeatedly washed in warm water, gives out all its
* red globules, and what remains appears to be composed
of the coagulable lymph (f), which is a gelatinous sub¬
stance, capable of being hardened by fire till it becomes
perfectly horny : and if we expose the serum to a cer¬
tain degree of heat, part of it will be found to coagu¬
late like the white of an egg, and there will remain a
clear and limpid water, resembling urine both in its ap¬
pearance and smell.
The serum and crassamentum differ in their propor¬
tion in different constitutions $ in a strong person, the
crassamentum is in a greater proportion to the serum
Hwsott’sthan in a weak one * 5 and the same difference is found
xperim. ^ place in diseases (g).
iq. Part I. r
Sect. XV. Of Nutrition.
130 The variety of functions which we have described
as being incessantly performed by the living body, and
the continual circulation of the blood through it, must
necessarily occasion a constant dissipation of the several
parts which enter into its composition. In speaking
of the insensible perspiration, we observed howr much
was incessantly passing off from the lungs and the sur¬
face of the skin. The discharge by urine is likewise
every day considerable j and great part of the bile, sa¬
liva, Sec. are excluded by stool. But the solid, as well
as the fluid parts of the body, require a constant re¬
newal of nutritious particles. They are exposed to the
attrition of the fluids which are circulated through
them $ and the contraction and relaxation they repeat
so many thousand times in every day, would necessarily
occasion a dissolution of the machine, if the renewal
was not proportioned to the waste.
It is easy to conceive how the chyle formed from
the aliment is assimilated into the nature of blood, and
repairs the loss of the fluid parts of our body j but
how the solids are renewed, has never yet been satis¬
factorily explained. The nutritious parts of the blood
are probably deposited by the arteries by exudation
O M Y. - 263
through their pores into the tela cellulosa ; and as the Of the
solid parts of the body are in the embryo only a kind Thorax.
of jelly, which gradually acquires the degree of con-
sistence they are found to have when the body arrives
at a more advanced age j and these same parts which
consist of bones, cartilages, ligaments, muscles, &c. are
sometimes reduced again by disease to a gelatinous
state; we may, with some degree of probability, con¬
sider the coagulable lymph as the source of nutrition.
If the supply of nourishment exceeds the degree of
waste, the body increases; and this happens in infancy
and in youth : for at those periods, but more particu¬
larly the former one, the fluids bear a large proportion
to the solids ; and the fibres being soft and yielding,
are proportionably more capable of extension and in¬
crease. But when the supply of nutrition only equals
the waste, we neither increase nor decrease ; and we
find this to be the case when the body has attained its
full growth or acme: for the solids having then ac¬
quired a certain degree of firmness and rigidity, do not
permit a farther increase of the body. But as we ap¬
proach to old age, rigidity begins to be in excess, and
the fluids (h) bear a much less proportion to the solids
than before. The dissipation of the body is greater
than the supply of nourishment: many of the smaller
vessels become gradually impervious (1) ; and the fibres
losing their moisture and their elasticity, appear flaccid
and wrinkled. The lilies and the roses disappear, be¬
cause the fluids by which they were produced can no
longer reach the extremities of the capillary vessels of
the skin. As these changes take place, the nervous
power being proportionably weakened, the irritability
and sensibility of the body, which were formerly so re¬
markable, are greatly diminished ; and in advanced life,
the hearing, the eye-sight, and all the other senses, be¬
come gradually impaired.
Sect. XVI. Of the Glands and Secretions.
The glands are commonly understood to be small, 131
roundish, or oval bodies, formed by the convolution of
a great number of vessels, and destined to separate par¬
ticular humours from the mass of blood.
They are usually divided into two classes; but it seems
more
(f) It may not be improper to observe, that till of late the coagulable hjmph has been confounded with the
serum of the blood, which contains a substance that is likewise coagulable, though only when exposed to heat,
or combined with certain chemical substances; whereas the other coagulates spontaneously when exposed to the
air or to rest.
(g) When the blood separates into serum and crassamentum, if the latter be covered with a crust of a whitish
or buff colour, it has been usually considered as a certain proof of the blood’s being in a state of too great vis¬
cidity. This appearance commonly taking place in inflammatory diseases, has long served to confirm the theory
which ascribes the cause of inflammation to lentor and obstructions. But from the late Mr Hewson’s experi¬
ments it appears, that when the action of the arteries is increased, the blood, instead of being more viscid, is,
on the contrary, more fluid than in the ordinary state previous to inflammation ; and that in consequence of this,
the coagulable lymph suffers the red globules, which are the heaviest part of the blood, to fall down to the bot¬
tom before it coagulates: so that the crassamentum is divided into two parts; one of which is found to consist
of the coagulable lymph alone (in this ease termed the buff) ; and the other, partly of this and partly of the red
globules.
(h) As the fluids become less in proportion to the solids, their acrimony is found to increase ; and this may
perhaps compensate for the want of fluidity in the blood, by diminishing its cohesion.
(1) In infancy, the arteries are numerous and large in respect to the veins, and the lymphatic glands are
larger than at any other time of life ; whereas, in old age, the capacity of the venous system exceeds that of thef
arteries, and the lymphatic system almost disappears.
ANATOMY.
264.
Of the more proper to distinguish three kinds of glands, viz.
Thora*. tJje mucous, conglobate, and conglomerate.
v The mucous glands, or follicles as they are most
commonly called, are small cylindrical tubes continued
from the ends of arteries. In some parts of the body,
as in the tonsils, for example, several of these follicles
may be seen folded together in one common covering,
and opening into one common sinus. These follicles
are the vessels that secrete and pour out mucus in the
mouth, oesophagus, stomach, intestines, and other parts
of the body.
The conglobate glands are peculiar to the lymphatic
system. Every lymphatic vein passes through a gland
of this kind in its way to the thoracic duct. They are
met with in different parts of the body, particularly in
the axilla, groin, and mesentery, and are either solitary
or in distinct clusters.
The conglomerate glands are of much greater bulk
than the conglobate, and seem to be an assemblage of
many smaller glands. Of this kind are the liver, kid¬
neys, &c. Some of them, as the pancreas, parotids,
&.c. have a granulated appearance. All these conglome¬
rate glands are plentifully supplied with blood vessels:
but their nerves are in general very minute, and few in
number. Each little granulated poi'tion furnishes a
small tube, which unites with other similar ducts, to
form the common excretory duct of the gland.
The principal glands, and the humours they secrete,
have been already described in different parts of this
work ; and there only remains for us to examine the
general structure of the glands, and to explain the me¬
chanism of secretion. On the first of these subjects
two different systems have been formed ; each of which
has had, and still continues to have, its adherents.
One of these systems was advanced by Malpighi, who
supposed that an artery entering into a gland ramifies
very minutely through its whole substance j and that
its branches ultimately terminate in a vesicular cavity
or follicle, from whence the secreted fluid passes out
through the excretory duct. This doctrine at first
met with few opponents; but the celebrated Ruysch,
who first attempted minute injections with wax, after¬
wards disputed the existence of these follicles, and as¬
serted, that every gland appears to be a continued se¬
ries of vessels, which, after being repeatedly convoluted
in their course through its substance, at length termi¬
nate in the excretory duct. Anatomists are still di¬
vided between these two systems : that of Malpighi
however, seems to be the best founded.
. The mode of secretion has been explained in a va¬
riety of ways, and they are all perfectly hypothetical.
In such an inquiry, it is natural to ask, how one gland
constantly separates a particular humour, while another
gland secretes one of a very different nature from the
blood ? The bile, for instance, is separated by the liver
and the urine by the kidneys. Are these secretions to
be imputed to any particular dispositions in the fluids ?
or is their cause to be looked for in the solids p
It has been supposed, that every gland contains
within itself a fermenting principle, by which it is
enabled to change the nature of the blood it receives
and to endue it with a particular property. Thus*
according to this system, the blood, as it circulates
through the kidneys, becomes mixed with the ferment-
mg principle of those glands, and a part of it is con.
verted into urine ; and again in the liver, in the sa-
lival and other glands, the bile, the saliva, and other
juices, are generated from a similar cause. But it seems
to be impossible for any liquor to be confined in a
place exposed to the circulation, without being car¬
ried away by the torrent of blood, every part of which
would be equally affected ; and this system of fermen¬
tation has long been rejected as vague and chimerical.
But as the cause of secretion continued to be looked
for in the fluids, the former system was succeeded by
another, in which recourse was had to the analogy of
the humours. It was observed, that if paper be moist¬
ened with water, and oil and water be afterwards
poured upon it, the water only will be permitted to
pass through it, but that, on the other hand, if the
paper has been previously soaked in oil instead of water,
the oil only, and not the water, will be filtered through
it. These observations led to a supposition, that every
secretory organ is originally furnished with a humour
analogous to that which it is afterwards destined to
separate from the blood j and that in consequence of
this disposition, the secretory vessels of the liver for
instance, will only admit the bilious particles of the
blood, while all the other humours will be excluded.
This system is an ingenious one, but the difficulties
with which it abounds are unanswerable : for oil and
water are immiscible ; whereas the blood, as it is cir¬
culated through the body, appears to be a homoge¬
neous fluid. Every oil will pass through a paper
moistened only with one kind of oil; and wine, or
spirits mixed with water, will easily be filtered through
a paper previously soaked in water. Upon the same
principle, all our humours, though differing in their
other properties, yet agreeing in that of being perfect¬
ly miscible with each other, will all easily pass through
the same filtre.—But these are not all the objections
to this system. The humours which are supposed to
be placed in the secretory vessels for the determination
of similar particles from the blood, must be originally
separated without any analogous fluid ; and that which
happens once, may as easily happen always. Again,
It sometimes happens, from a vitious disposition, that
humours are filtered through glands which are natu¬
rally not intended to afford them a passage ; and when
this once has happened, it ought, according to this
system, to be expected always to do so: whereas this
is net the case j and we are, after all, naturally led to
seek for the cause of secretion in the solids. It does
not seem right to ascribe it to any particular figure of
the secretory vessels j because the soft texture of those
parts does not permit them to preserve any constant
shape, and our fluids seem to be capable of accommo¬
dating themselves to every kind of figure. Some have
imputed it to the difference of diameter in the orifices
of the different secretory vessels. To this doctrine
objections have likewise been raised; and it has been
argued, that the vessels of the liver, for instance, would
upon this principle, afford a passage not only to the
bile, but to all the other humours of less consistence
with it. In reply to this objection, it has been suppos¬
ed, that secondary vessels exist, which originate from
the first, and permit all the humours thinuer thau the
bile to pass through them.
Each of these hypotheses is probably very remote
from the truth.
EXPLANATION
Part I
Of the
Thorax.
ANATOMY.
3hap. V.
Of the
Brain and
Nerves.
EXPLANATION of PLATE XXX.
265
Of the
Brain and
N erves.
This Plate represents the Heart in situ, all the
large Arteries and Veins, with some of the Muscles,
See.
Muscles, See.—Superior Extremity.—a, Mas-
seter. b, Complexus. c, Digastricus. d, Os hyoides.
e, Thyroid gland, f, Levator scapulae, g, Cuculla-
ris. h, The clavicles cut. i, The deltoid muscle,
k, Biceps flexor cubiti cut. 1, Coraco-brachialis.
ni, Triceps extensor cubiti. n, The heads of the pro¬
nator teres, flexor carpi radialis, and flexor digitorum
sublimis, cut. o, The flexor carpi ulnaris cut at ite
extremity, p, Flexor digitorum profundus, q, Supi¬
nator radii longus, cut at its extremity, r, Ligamen-
tum carpi transversale. s, Extensores carpi radiales.
t, Latissimus dorsi. u, Anterior edge of the serratus
anticus major, vv, The inferior part of the diaphragm,
ww, Its interior edge cut. xx, The kidneys, y, Trans-
versus abdominis, z, Os ilium.
Inferior Extremity.—a. Psoas magnus. b, I-
liacus internus. c, The fleshy origin of the tensor va¬
ginae femoris. dd. The ossa pubis cut from each other,
e, Musculus pectineus cut from its origin, f Short
head of the triceps adductor femoris cut. g-, The great
head of the triceps, h, The long head cut. z’, "V astus
internus. k, Vastus externus. /, Crureus. m, Gemel¬
lus. », Soleus. 0, Tibia, /j, Peronaeus longus. <7, Pe-
ronaeus brevis, r, Fibula.
Heart and Blood Vessels.—A, The heart, with
the coronary arteries and veins. B, The right auricle
of the heart. C, The aorta ascendens. D, The left
subclavian artery. E, The left carotid artery. F, The
common trunk which sends olf the right subclavian and
right carotid arteries. G, The carotis externa. H, Ar-
teria facialis, which sends off the coronary arteries of
the lips. I, Arteria temporalis profunda. K, Aor¬
ta descendens. LL, The iliac arteries,—which send
oft' MM, The femoral or crural arteries. N. B. The
other arteries in this figure have the same distribution
as the veins of the same name :—And generally, in
the anatomical plates, the description to be found on
the one side points out the same parts in the other,
j, The frontal vein. 2, The facial vein. 3, Vena
temporalis profunda. 4, Vena occipitalis. 5, Vena
jugularis externa. 6, Vena jugularis interna, covering
the arteria carotis communis. 7, The vascular arch on
the palm of the hand, which is formed by 8, the radial
artery and vein, and, 9, the ulnar artery and vein.
10 10, Cephalic vein. 11, Basilic vein, that on the
right side, cut. 12, Median vein. 13, The humeral
vein, which, with the median, covers the humeral ar¬
tery. 14 14, The external thoracic or mammary ar¬
teries andjpeins. 15, The axillary vein, covering the
artery. 16 16, The subclavian veins, which, with
(66) the jugulars, form, 17, The vena cava supe¬
rior. 18, The cutaneous arch of veins on the fore part
of the foot. 19, The vena tibialis antica, covering
the artery. 20, The vena profunda femoris, covering
the artery. 21, The upper part of the vena saphena
major. 22, The femoral vein. 23 23, The iliac
veins. 24 24, Vena cava inferior. 25 25, The renal
veins covering the arteries. 26 26, The diaphragma¬
tic veins.
CHAP. V. OF THE BRAIN AND NERVES.
Sect. I. Of the Brain and its Integuments.
*3* THE bones of the cranium were described in the
osteological part of this work, as enclosing the brain
and defending it from external injury: but they are not
133 its only protection 3 for when we make a horizontal
Integu- section through these bones, we find this mass every-
the brain where surrounded by two membranes (k), the dura and
pia mater.—The first of these lines the interior surface
of the cranium, to which it-everywhere adheres strong¬
ly (l), but more particularly at the sutures, and at the
many foramina through which vessels pass between it
and the pericranium. The dura mater (m) is perfectly
smooth and inelastic, and its inner surface is constantly
bedewed with a fine pellucid fluid, which everywhere
separates it from the pia mater. The dura mater sends
off
(k) The Greeks called these membranes meninges ; but the Arabians, supposing them to be the source of all
the other membranes of the body, afterwards gave them the name of dura and pia mater; by which they are
now usually distinguished.
(l) In young subjects this adhesion is greater than in adults ; but even then, in the healthy subject, it is no¬
where easily separable, without breaking through some of the minute vessels by means of which it is attached to
the bone,
(m) This membrane is commonly described as consisting of twolaminse*, of which the external one is supposed
to perform the office of periosteum internum to the cranium, while the internal one forms the folds and processes of
the dura mater. In the natural state, however, no such separation is apparent 3 like other membranes, we may
indeed divide it, not into two only, but many laminae ; but this division is artificial, and depends on the dexterity
of the anatomist.
Vol. II. Part I.
f
LI
266
ANATOMY. Parti.
Of the offseveral considerable processes, which divide the brain
Brain and into several portions, and prevent them from compres-
!\erves. sjng other. Of these processes there is one supe-
* rior and longitudinal, called the falx or falciform pro¬
cess^ from its resemblance to a scythe. It arises from
the spine of the os frontis, near the crista galli, and ex¬
tending along in the direction of the sagittal suture, to
beyond the lambdoidal suture, divides the brain into two
hemispheres. A little below the lambdoidal suture, it
divides into two broad wings or expansions called the
transverse or lateral processes, which prevent the lobes
of the cerebrum from pressing on the cerebellum. Be¬
sides these there is a fourth, which is situated under
the transverse processes, and being continued to the
spine of the occiput, divides the cerebellum into two
lobes.
The blood, after being distributed through the ca¬
vity of the cranium by means of the arteries, is return¬
ed, as in the other parts of the body, by veins which
all pass on to certain channels situated between these
several processes.
These canals or sinuses communicate with each other,
and empty themselves into the internal jugular veins,
which convey the blood into the vena cava. They are*
in fact triangular veins, running through the substance
of the dura mater, and, like all the processes, are distin¬
guished into longitudinal and lateral; and where these
three meet, and where the fourth process passeth off, we
observe a fourth sinus, which is called torcular; Hero-
philus, who first described it, having supposed that the
blood, at the union of these two veins, is, as it were, in
a press.
Besides these four canals, which were known to the
ancients, modern anatomists enumerate many others, by
giving the appellation of sinuses to other veins of the
dura mater, which for the most part empty themselves
into some of those Ave have just now described. There
are the inferior longitudinal sinus, the superior and in¬
ferior petrous sinuses, the cavernous sinuses, the cir¬
cular sinus, and the anterior and posterior occipital
sinuses.
These sinuses or veins, by being conveyed through a
thick dense membrane, firmly suspended, as the dura
mater is, within the cranium, are less liable to rupture j
at the same time they are well supported, and by run¬
ning everywhere along the inner surface of the bones,
they are prevented from pressing on the substance of the
brain. To prevent too great a dilatation of them, we
find filaments (called chordce Willisii, from their having
been first noticed by Willis) stretched across their ca¬
vities , and the oblique manner m which the veins from
the brain run through the substance of the brain into
these channels, serves the purpose of a valve, which
prevents the blood from turning back into the smaller
and eveaker vessels of the brain.
The pia mater is a much softer and finer membrane
than the dura mater: being exceedingly delicate, trans¬
parent, and vascular. It invests every part of the brain,
and sends oft an infinite number of elongations, which
insinuate themselves between the convolutions, and even
into tne substance of the brain. This membrane is
composed of two laminae ; of which the exterior one is
named tunica aruchnoidea, from its thinness, which is
equal to that of a spider’s .veb. These two lamina; are
■intimately adherent to each other, at the upper part of
3
the brain, but are easily separable at the basis of the of the
brain, and through the whole length of the medulla Brain and
spinalis. The external layer, or tunica arachnoidea, Nerves,
appears to be spread uniformly over the surface of the v"~ J
brain, but without entering into the furroivs as the in¬
ner layer does ; the latter being found to insinuate it¬
self betiveen the convolutions, and even into the inte¬
rior cavities of the brain. The blood-vessels of the
brain are distributed through it in their Avay to that
organ, and are therefore divided into very minute ra¬
mifications, before they penetrate the substance of the
brain. J34
There are several parts included under the general The brain,
denomination of brain. One of these, which is of the
softest consistence, and fills the greatest part of the ca¬
vity of the cranium, is the cerebrum or brain properly
so called. Another portion, which is seated in the in¬
ferior and posterior part of the head, is the cerebellum ;
and a third, Avhich derives its origin from both these, is
the medulla oblongata.
The cerebrum is a medullary mass of a moderate Cerebrum,
consistence, filling up exactly all the upper part of the
cavity of the cranium, and divided into tAvo hemi¬
spheres by the falx of the dura mater. Each of these
hemispheres, is usually distinguished into an interior, a
middle, and a posterior lobe. The first of these is
lodged on the orbital processes of the os frontis $ the
middle lobes lie in the middle fossae of the basis of the
cranium, and the posterior lobes are placed on the
transverse septum of the os occipitis, immediately over
the cerebellum, from which they are separated by the
lateral processes of the dura mater. These Iavo por¬
tions afford no distinguishing mark of separation $ and
on this account Haller, and many other modern ana¬
tomists, omit the distinction of the middle lobe, and
speak only of the anterior and posterior lobes of the
brain.
The cerebrum appears to be composed of two distinct
substances. Of these the exterior one, which is of
a grayish or ash colour, is called the cortex, and is
somewhat softer than the other, Avhich is very white,
and is called medulla, or substantia alba.
After having removed the falx, and separated the
two hemispheres from each other, A\re perceive a white
convex body, the corpus callosum, which is a portion
of the medullary substance, uniting the tAvo hemi¬
spheres to each other, and not invested by the cortex.
By making a horizontal incision into the brain, on a
level Avith this corpus callosum, Ave discover trvo oblong
cavities, named the anterior or lateral venti'icles, one
in each hemisphere. These tAvo ventricles, Avhich,
communicate with each other by a hole immediately
under the plexus choroides, are separated laterally by
a very fine medullary partition, called septum lucidum,
from its thinness and transparency. The lorver edge
of this septum is fixed to the fornix, which is a kind
of medullary arch (as its name implies) situated under
the corpus callosum, and nearly of a triangular shape.
Anteriorly the fornix sends oil' two medullary chords,
called its anterior aura; which seem to be united to
each other by a portion of medullary substance, named
commissura anterior cerebri. These crura diverging
from one another, are lost at the outer side of the Ioav-
er and fore part of the third ventricle. Posteriorly
the fornix is formed into two other crura, Avhich unite
Avith
Chap. V. ANA'
f tlie with two medullary protuberances, called pedes hrppo-
Brain and campi, and sometimes cornua ammonis, that extend
Nerves, along the back part of the lateral ventricles. The con-
—v—-1 1 cave edge of the pedes hippocampi is covered by a me¬
dullary lamina, called corpus jhnbriatum.
Neither the edges of the fornix, nor its posterior
crura, can be well distinguished, till we have removed
the plexus choroides. This is a production of the pia
mater, which is spread over the lateral ventricles. Its
loose edges are collected, so as to appear like a vascular
band on each side.
When we have removed this plexus, we discover se¬
veral other protuberances included in the lateral ventri¬
cles. These are the corpora striata, the thalami nervo¬
rum opticorum, the tubercula quadrugemina, and the
pineal gland.
The corpora striata are two curved oblong eminences,
that extend along the anterior part of the lateral ventri¬
cles. They derive their name from their striated ap¬
pearance, which is owing to an intennixture of the cor¬
tical and medullary substances of the brain. The tha¬
lami nervorum opticorum are so called, because the op¬
tic nerves arise chiefly from them, and they are likewise
composed both of the cortex and medulla. They are
separated from the corpora striata only by a kind of
medullary chord, the geminum centrum semicirculare.
The thalami are nearly of an oval shape, and are situ¬
ated at the bottom of the upper cavity of the lateral
ventricles. They are closely united, and at their con¬
vex part seem to become one body.
Anteriorly, in the space between the thalami, we
observe an orifice by which the lateral ventricles com¬
municate, and another leads down from this, under the
different appellations offoramen commune anterius, vul¬
va, iter ad infundibulum, but more properly inter ad ter-
tium ventriculum; and the separation of the thalami
from each other posteriorly, forms another opening or
interstice called anus. This has been supposed to com¬
municate with the third ventricle j but it does not, the
bottom of it being shut up by the pia mater. The back
part of the anus is formed by a kind of medullary band,
which connects the thalami to each other, and is called
commissura posterior cerebri.
Behind the thalami and commissura posterior, we ob¬
serve a small, soft, grayish, and oval body, about the
size of a pea. This is the glandula pinealis j it is de¬
scribed by Galen under the name of conarion, and has
been rendered famous by Descartes, who supposed it to
be the seat of the soul. Galen seems formerly to have
entertained the same opinion. Some modern writers
have, with as little reason, imagined that the soul is
placed in the corpus callosum.
The pineal gland rests upon four remarkable emi¬
nences, disposed in pairs, and seated immediately be¬
low it. These tubercles, which by the ancients were
called testes and nates, have, since the time of Win¬
slow, been more commonly named tubercula quadruge-
mina.
Under the thalami we observe another cavity, the
third ventricle, which terminates anteriorly in a small
medullary canal, the infundibulum, that leads to the
' O M Y. 267
glandula pituitaria. It has been doubted, whether the of the
infundibulum is really hollow j but some late experi- Brain and
ments on this part of the brain * by Professor Murray Nervcs- ,
of Upsal, clearly prove it to be a medullary canal, sur-
rounded by both laminae of the pia mater. After freez-infmidibub
ing the brain, this channel was found tilled with ice; Cerebri.
and De Haen tells t us, he found it dilated, and filled t Ratio
with a calcareous matter (n). ton? vi
The soft spongy body in which the infundibulum ter-p
minates, was by the ancients supposed to be of a glan¬
dular structure, and destined to filter the serosity of the
brain. Spigelius pretended to have discovered its ex¬
cretory duct, but it seems certain that no such duct ex¬
ists. It is of an oblong shape, composed, as it were,
of two lobes. In ruminant animals i* is much larger
than in man.
From the posterior part of the third ventricle, we see
a small groove or channel, descending obliquely back¬
wards. This channel, which is called the aqueduct of
Sylvius, though it was known to the ancients, opens in¬
to another cavity of the brain, placed between the ce¬
rebellum and medulla oblongata, and called the fourth
ventricle. 135
li\\e cerebellum, which is divided into two lobes, isCercbel-
commonly supposed to be of a firmer texture than thelum•
cerebrum ; but the truth is, that in the greater number
of subjects, there appears to be no sensible difference in
the consistence of these two parts. It has more of the
cortical than of the medullary substance in its composi¬
tion.
The furrow that divides the two lobes of the cerebel¬
lum leads anteriorly to a process, composed of medulla¬
ry and cortical substances, covered by the pia mater 3
and which, from its being divided into numerous fur¬
rows, resembling the rings of the earth-worm, is named
processus vermiformis. This process forms a kind ol
ring in its course between the lobes.
The surface of the cerebellum does not afford those
circumvolutions which appear in the cerebrum 3 but
instead of these, we observe a great number of minute
furrows, running parallel to each other, and nearly in
a transverse direction. The pia mater insinuates itselt
into these furrows.
When we cut into the substance of the cerebellum,
from above downwards, we find the medullary part
running in a kind of ramifying course, and exhibiting
an appearance that has gotten the name of arbor vitce.
These ramifications unite to form a medullary trunk ;
the middle, anterior, and most considerable part of
which forms two processes, the crura cerebelli, which
unite with the crura cerebri, to form the medulla ob¬
longata. The rest furnishes two other processes, which
lose themselves, under the nates, and thus unite the
lobes of the cerebellum to the posterior part of the ce¬
rebrum. Under the nates we observe a transverse me¬
dullary line, or linea alba, running from one of these
processes to the other 3 and between them we find a
very thin medullary lamina, covered with the pia ma¬
ter, which the generality of anatomists have (though
seemingly without reason) considered as a valve formed
for closing the communication between the fourth ven¬
tricle
(n) T he under part of it, however, appears to be impervious ; at least no injection that can be depended on
has been naade to pass from it into the glandula pituitaria without laceration of parts.
L 1 2
268
/ANATOMY.
Nerves.
*37
Medulla
Of the tricle and the aqnseductus Sylvii. Vieussens named it
Brain and valvula major cerebri.
The medulla oblongata is situated in the middle,
lower, and posterior part of the cranium, and may be
considered as a production or continuation of the
oblongata, whole medullary substance of the cerebrum and cere¬
bellum, being formed by the union of two considerable
medullary processes of the cerebrum, called crura cere¬
bri, with two other smaller ones from the cerebellum,
which were just now spoken of under the name of crura
cerebelli.
The crura cerebri arise from the middle and lower
part of each hemisphere. They are separated from each
other at their origin, but are united below, where they
terminate in a middle protuberance, the pons Varolii,
so called because Varolius compared it to a bridge.
This name, however, can convey no idea of its real
appearance. It is, in fact, nothing more than a me-
dr.iiary protuberance, nearly of a hemispherical shape,
which unites the crura cerebri to those of the cerebel¬
lum.
Between the crura cerebri, and near the anterior
edge of the pons Varolii, are two tubercles, composed
externally of medullary, and internally of cineritious
substance, to which Eustachius first gave the name of
eminentice mamillares.
Along the middle of the posterior surface of the me¬
dulla oblongata, where it forms the anterior part of the
fourth ventricle, we observe a kind of furrow which
runs downwards and terminates in a point. About an
inch above the lower extremity of this fissure, several
medullary filaments are to be seen running towards it
on each side in an oblique direction, so as to give it the
appearance of a writing pen j hence it is called calamus
scriptorius.
From the posterior part of the pons Varolii, the me¬
dulla oblongata descends obliquely backwards j at its
fore part, immediately behind the pons Varolii, we ob¬
serve two pair of eminences, which were described by
Eustachius, but received no particular appellation till
the time of Vieussens, who gave them the names of
corpora ohvaria and corpora pyramidalia. The former
are the outermost, being placed one on each side.
They are nearly of an oval shape, and are composed
of medulla, with streaks of cortical substance. Be¬
tween these are the corpora pyramidalia, each of
which terminates in a point. In the human subject
these four eminences are sometimes not easily distin¬
guished.
The tnedula spinalis, or spinal marrow, which is
the name given to the medullary chord that is extend¬
ed down the vertebral canal, from the great foramen
of the occipital bone to the bottom of the lasl lumbar
vertebra, is a continuation of the medulla oblongata.
Like the other parts of the brain, it is invested by the
dura and pia mater. The first of these, in its passage
out of the cranium, adheres to the foramen of the os
occipitis. Its connection with the ligamentary sub¬
stance that lines the cavity of the spine, is only by
means of cellular membrane 5 but between the several
Part L
138
Medulla
spinalis.
vertebrae, where the nerves pass out of the spine, it 0f the
sends off prolongations, which adhere strongly to the Brain and
vertebral ligaments. Here, as in the cranium, the Nerves,
dura mater has its sinuses or large veins. These are
two in number, and are seen running on each side of
the medullary column, from the foramen magnum of
the os occipitis to the lower part of the os sacrum.
They communicate together by ramifying branches at
each vertebra, and terminate in the vertebral, interco¬
stal, and sacral veins.
The pia mater is connected with the dura mater by
means of a thin transparent substance, which from its
indentations between the spinal nerves has obtained
the name of ligamentum denticulatum. It is somewhat
firmer than the tunica arachnoidea, but in other re¬
spects resembles that membrane. Its use is to support
the spinal marrow, that it may not affect the medulla
oblongata by its weight.
The spinal marrow itself is externally of a white co¬
lour j but, upon cutting into it, we find its middle part
composed of a darker-coloured mass, resembling the
cortex of the brain. When the marrow has reached
the first lumbar vertebra, it becomes extremely narrow,
and at length terminates in an oblong protuberance j
from the extremity of which the pia mater sends off
a prolongation or ligament, resembling a nerve, that
perforates the dura mater, and is fixed to the os coccy-
gis.
The medulla spinalis gives rise to 30 or 31 pair of
nerves, but they are not all of the same size, nor do
they all run in the same direction. The upper ones
are thinner than the rest, and are placed almost trans¬
versely : as we descend, we find them running more
and more obliquely downwards, till at length their
course is almost perpendicular, so that the lowermost
nerves exhibit an appearance that is called cauda equina,
from its resemblance to a horse’s tail.
The arteries that ramify through the different parts
of the brain are derived from the internal carotid and
from the vertebral arteries. The medulla spinalis is
supplied by the anterior and posterior spinal arteries,
and likewise receives branches from the cervical, the
inferior and superior intercostal, the lumbar, and the.
sacral arteries.
Sect. II. Of the Nerves.
The nerves are medullary chords, differing from
each other in size, colour, and consistence, and deri¬
ving their origin from the medulla oblongata and me¬
dulla spinalis. There are 39, and sometimes 40, pair
of the nerves ; nine (o) of which originate from the
medulla oblongata, and 30 or 31 from the medulla spi¬
nalis. They appear to be perfectly inelastic, and like¬
wise to possess no irritability. If we irritate muscular
fibres, they immediately contract; but nothing of this
sort happens if we irritate a nerve. They carry with
them a covering from the pia mater •, but derive no tu¬
nic from the dura mater, as hath been generally,
though erroneously, supposed, ever since the time of
Galen
nai^aJsl^thrLm11^ ^ tleSCri^f ten Pair nerves as arising from the medulla oblongata ; but as the tenth
pair arise in the same manner as the other spinal nerves, Santorini, Heister, Haller, and others, seem very pro¬
perly to have classed them among the nerves of the spine J P
dap. V. ANA
II t'the Galen (?)> the outer covering of the nerves being in fact
; lin and nothing more than cellular membrane. This covering
Jerves. js very thick where the nerve is exposed to the action
^ ""v of the muscles j but where it runs through a bony canal,
or is secure from pressure, the cellular tunic is ex,
tremely thin, or altogether wanting. We have instan¬
ces of this in the portio mollis of the auditory nerve,
and in the nerves of the heart.
By elevating, carefully and gently, the brain from
the basis of the cranium, we find the first nine pair
arising in the following order : I. The nervi olfactorii,
distributed through the pituitary membraije, which
constitutes the organ of smell. 2. The optici, which
go to the eyes, where they receive the impressions of
visible objects. 3. The oculorum motores, so called
because they are distributed to the muscles of the eye.
4. The pathetici, distributed to the superior oblique
muscles of the eyes, the motion of which is expressive
of certain passions of the soul. 5. The nerves of this
pair soon divide into three principal branches, and each
of these has a different name. Its upper division is
the ophthalmicus, which is distributed to various parts
of the eyes, eyelids, forehead, nose, and integuments
of the face. The second is called the maxillaris supe¬
rior, and the third maxillaris inferior; both which
names allude to their distribution. 6. The abductores $
each of these nerves is distributed to the abductor mus¬
cle of the eye, so called, because it helps to draw the
globe of the eye from the nose. 7. The auditorii (q,),
which are distributed through the organs of hearing.
8. The par vagum, which derives its name from the
great number of parts to which it gives branches, both
in the thorax and abdomen. 9. The linguales, or by-
poglossi, which are distributed to the tongue, and appear
to contribute both to the organ of taste and to the mo¬
tions of the tongue (it).
It has already been observed, that the spinal marrow
sends off 30 or 31 pair of nerves j these are chiefly di¬
stributed to the exterior- parts of the trunk and to the
extremities. They are commonly distinguished into
the cervical, dorsal, lumbar, and sacral nerves. The
cervical, which pass out from between the several ver-
r O M Y. 269
tebrae of the neck, are eight (s) in number \ the dor- Of the
sal, twelve j the lumbar, five j and the sacral, five or Brain and
six 5 the number of the latter depending on* the number , ^ei v‘Jv- _
of holes in the os sacrum. Each spinal nerve at its ori¬
gin is composed of two fasciculi of medullary fibres.
One of these fasciculi arises from the anterior, and the
other from the posterior, surface of the medulla.
These fasciculi are separated by the ligamentum denti-
culatum $ after which we find them contiguous to one
another. They then perforate the dura mater, and
unite to form a considerable knot or ganglion. Each
of these ganglions sends oft' two branches ; one anteri¬
or, and the other posterior. The anterior branches
communicate with each other at their coming out of
the spine, and likewise send off one, and sometimes
more branches, to assist in the formation of the inter¬
costal nerve.
The knots or ganglions of the nerves just now spo¬
ken of, are not only to be met with at their exit from
the spine, but likewise in various parts of the body.
They occur in the nerves of the medulla oblongata, as
well as in those of the spine. They are not the effects
of disease, but are to be met with in the same parts of
the same nerves, both in the foetus and adult. They
are commonly of an oblong shape, and of a grayish co¬
lour somewhat inclined to red, which is perhaps owing
to their being extremely vascular. Internally we are
able to distinguish something like an intermixture of the
nervous filaments.
Some writers have considered them as so many little
brains j Eancisi fancied he had discovered muscular
fibres in them, but they are certainly not of an irri¬
table nature. A late writer, Dr Johnstone *, imagines * Essay on
they are intended to deprive us of the power of the the Use of
will over certain parts, as the heart, for instance : but Uangli-
if this hypothesis were well founded, we should meet 0ff t>ie
with them only in nerves leading to involuntary mus¬
cles ; whereas it is certain, that the voluntary muscles
receive their nerves through ganglions. Dr Monro,
from observing the accurate intermixture of the minute
nerves which compose them, considers them as new
sources of nervous energy f. f Observa-
fpjie tions on the
Nervous
 System.
(p) Baron Haller and Professor Zinn seem to have been the first who demonstrated, that the dura mater is
reflected upon and adheres to the periosteum at the edges of the foramina that afford a passage to the nerves out
of the cranium and vertebral canal, or is soon lost in the cellular substance.
(q,) This pair, soon after its entrance into the meatus auditorius internus, separates into two branches. One
of these is of a very soft and pulpy consistence, is called the portio mollis of the seventh pair, and is spread over
the inner part of the ear. The other passes out through the aqueduct of Fallopius in a firm chord, which is dis¬
tinguished as the portio dura, and is distributed to the external ear and other parts of the neck and face.
(r) Heister has summed up the uses of these nine pair of nerves in the tw'o following Latin verses :
“ Olfaciens, cernens, oculosque movens, patiensque,
“ Gustans, abducens, audiensque, vagansque, loquensquef
(s) Besides these, there is another pair called accessorii, wmich arises from the medulla spinalis at its begin¬
ning •, and ascending through the great foramen of the os occipitis into the cranium, passes out again close to the-
eighth pair, with which, however, it does not unite ; and it is afterwards distributed chiefly to the muscles of the
neck, back, and scapula. In this course it sends off filaments to different parts, and likewise communicates with
several other nerves. Physiologists are at a loss how to account for the singular origin and course of these nervi
accessorii. 1 he ancients considered them as branches of the eighth pair, distributed to muscles of the scapula :
Willis likewise considered them as appendages to that pair, and on that account named them accessorii. They
are sometimes called the spinal pair $ but as this latter name is applicable to all the nerves of the spine indiscri¬
minately, it seems better to adopt that given by Willis.
270
ANATOMY.
Part
Of the The nerves, like the blood vessels, in their course
Braii; and through the body, communicate with each other ; and
-Nerve*, eath 0f these communications constitutes what is call-
v_ ed a plexus, from whence branches are again detached
to different parts of the body. Some of these are con¬
stant and considerable enough to be distinguished by
particular names, as the semilunar plexus, the pulmo¬
nary plexus, the hepatic, the cardiac, &c.
It would be foreign to the purpose of this work to
follow the nerves through all their distributions •, hut it
may be remembered, that in describing the different
viscera, mention was made of the nerves distributed to
them. There is one pair, however, called the inter¬
costal, or great syjnpathetic nerve, which seems to re¬
quire particular notice, because it has an almost univer¬
sal connexion and correspondence with all the other
nerves of the body. Authors are not perfectly agreed
about the origin of the intercostal ; but it may perhaps
not improperly be described, as beginning from filaments
of the fifth and sixth pair j it then passes out of the
cranium, through the bony canal of the carotid, from
whence it descends laterally close to the bodies of the
vertebrae, and receives branches from almost all the
vertebral nerves : forming almost as many ganglions in
its course through the thorax and abdomen. It sends
ofi an infinite number of branches to the viscera in
those cavities, and forms several plexus with the
branches of the eighth pair or par vagum.
That the nerves are destined to convey the principles
of motion and sensibility to the brain from all parts of
the system, there can be no doubt; but how these ef¬
fects are produced, no one has ever yet been able to
determine. The inquiry has been a constant source of
hypothesis in all ages, and has produced some inge.
nious ideas, and many erroneous positions, but with- of tin
out having hitherto aft’orded much satisfactory informa- Brain a ,
tion. Nerves-]
Some physiologists have considered a trunk of nerves v*'
as a solid chord, capable of being divided into an infi¬
nite number of filaments, by means of which the im¬
pressions of feeling are conveyed to the sensorium com¬
mune. Others have supposed it to be a canal, which af¬
terwards separates into more minute channels j or, per¬
haps, as being an assemblage of many very small and
distinct tubes, connected to each other, and thus form¬
ing a cylindrical chord. They who contend for their
being solid bodies are of opinion, that feeling is occa¬
sioned by vibration 5 so that, for instance, according to
this system, by pricking the finger, a vibration would
be occasioned in the nerve distributed though its sub¬
stance ; and the effects of this vibration, when extended
to the sensorium, would be an excital of pain. But
the inelasticity, the softness, the connexion, and the
situation of the nerves, are so many proofs that vibra¬
tion has no share in the cause of feeling.
Others have supposed, that in the brain and spinal
marrow a very subtle fluid is secreted, and from
thence conveyed through the imperceptible tubes,
which they consider as existing in the nerves. They
have further supposed, that this very subtle fluid, to
which they have given the name of animal spirits, is se¬
creted in the cortical substance of the brain and spinal
marrow, from whence it passes through the medullary
substance. This, like the other system, is founded
altogether on hypothesis j but it seems to be a hypo¬
thesis derived from much more probable principles, and
there are many ingenious arguments to be brought in
its support.
EXPLANATION of PLATE XXXI.
Fig. 1. Represents the Inferior part of the Brain;
—the Anterior part of the whole spine, including
the Medulla Spinalis ;—with the origin and large
portions of all the Nerves.
AA, The anterior lobes of the cerebrum. BB, The
lateral lobes of the cerebrum. CC, The two lobes of
the cerebellum. D, Tuber annulare. E, The pas¬
sage from the third ventricle to the infundibulum.
F, The medulla oblongata, which sends off the me¬
dulla spinalis through the spine. GG, That part of
the os occipitis which is placed above (HH) the
transverse processes of the; first cervical vertebra.
II, &c. The seven cervical vertebrae, 'with their in¬
termediate cartilages. KK, &c. The twelve dorsal
vertebrae, with their intermediate cartilages. LL, &c.
The five lumbar vertebrae, with their intermediate car¬
tilages. M, The os sacrum. N, The os coccysris.
Nerves.—1 1, The first pair of nerves, named ol¬
factory, which goes to the nose. 2 2, The second pair,
named optic, which goes to form the tunica retina of
the eye. 3 3» ^ third pair, named motor ocuh ; it
supplies most of the muscles of the eyeballs. 4 4, The
fourth pair, named pathetic,—which is wholly spent
upon the musculus trochlearis of the eye. 5*5, The
fifth pair divides into three branches.—The first, na¬
med ophthalmic, goes to the orbit, supplies the lachry¬
mal gland, and sends branches out to the forehead and
nose.—The second, named superior maxillary, supplies
the teeth of the upper jaw, and some of the muscles of
the lips.—The third, named inferior maxillary, is spent
upon the muscles and teeth of the lower jaw, tongue,
and muscles of the lips. 6 6, The sixth pair, which,
after sending off the beginning of the intercostal or
great sympathetic, is spent upon the abductor oculi.
7 7, The seventh pair, named auditory, divides into
two branches.—The lai*gest, named portico mollis, is
spent upon the internal ear.—The smallest, portio dura,
joins to the fifth pair within the internal ear by a re¬
flected branch from the second of the fifth ; and with¬
in the tympanum, by a branch from the third of the
fifth, named chorda tympani.—Vid. fig. 3. near B.
8 8, &c. The eighth pair, named par vagum,—which
accompanies the intercostal, and is spent upon the
tongue, larynx, pharynx, lungs, and abdominal viscera.
9 9, The ninth pair, which are spent upon the tongue.
10 10, &c. The intercostal, or great sympathetic,
which is seen from the sixth pair to the bottom of the
pelvis on each side of the spine, and joining with all
the nerves of the spine ; in its progresss supplying the
heart, and, with the par vagum, the contents of the
abdomen and pelvis. 11 11, The accessorius, which
is spent upon the sternocleido-mastoidaeus and trapezius
muscles.
(iap. VI. A N A T
muscles. 12 12, The first cervical nerves 5 13 13, The
eases, second cervical nerves 5 both spent upon the muscles
1 -v—' that lie on the neck, and teguments of the neck and
head. 14 14, The third cervical nerves, which, after
sending off' (15 15, &c.) the phrenic nerves to the
diaphragm, supply the muscles and teguments that lie
on the side of the neck, and top of the shoulder.
16 16, The brachial plexus, formed by the fourth, fifth,
sixth, seventh cervicals, and first dorsal nerves,—which
supply the muscles, and teguments of the superior ex¬
tremity. 17 i?) The twelve dorsal, or proper inter¬
costal nerves, which are spent upon the intercostal mus¬
cles and some of the large muscles which lie upon the
thorax. 18 18, The five lumbar pairs of nerves
which supply the lumbar and abdominal muscles, and
some of the teguments and muscles of the inferior ex¬
tremity. 19 The sacro-sciatic, or posterior crural
nerve, formed by the two inferior lumbar, and three
superior of the os sacrum. This large nerve supplies
the greatest part of the muscles and teguments of the
inferior extremity. 20, The stomachic plexus, form¬
ed by the eighth pair. 21 21, Branches of the solar
or caeliac plexus, formed by the eighth pair and inter-
O M Y.
271
costals, which supply the stomach and chylopoietic Of the
viscera. 22 22, Branches of the superior and inferior Senses,
mesenteric plexuses, formed by the eighth pair and in- '■*—*y~‘
tercostals, which supply the chylopoietic viscera, with
part- of the organs of urine and generation. 23 23,
Nerves which accompany the spermatic chord. 24 24,
The hypogastric plexus, which supplies the organs ot
urine and generation within the pelvis.
Fig. 2, 3, 4, 5. Show different views of the Inferior
part of the Brain, cut perpendicularly through the
Middle—with the Origin and large portions of all
the Nerves which pass out through the Bones of the
Cranium,—and the three first Cervicals.
A, The anterior lobe. B, The lateral lobe of the
cerebrum. C, One of the lobes of the cerebellum.
D, Tuber annulare. E, Corpus pyramidale, in the
middle of the medulla oblongata. F, The corpus oli-
vare, in the side of the medulla oblongata. G, The
medulla oblongata. H, The medulla spinalis.
Nerves.—1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 and 9, Pairs of nerves.
10 10, Nervus accessorius, which comes from—11, 12,
and 13, the three cervical nerves.
CHAP. VI. OF THE SENSES, AND THEIR ORGANS.
140 IN treating of the senses, we mean to confine our¬
selves to the external ones of touch, taste, smelling,
hearing, and vision. The word sense, when applied to
these five, seems to imply not only the sensation ex¬
cited in the mind by certain impressions made on the
body, but likewise the organs destined to receive and
transmit these impressions to the sensorium. Each of
these organs being of a peculiar structure, is suscep¬
tible only of particular impressions, which will be
pointed out as we proceed to describe each of them se¬
parately.
Sect. I. Of Touch.
141 The sense of touch may be defined to be the faculty
of distinguishing certain properties of bodies by the
feel. In a general acceptation, this definition might
perhaps not improperly be extended to every part of
the body possessed of sensibility (t) ; but it is common¬
ly confined to the nervous papillae of the cutis, or true
skin, which, with its appendages, and their several
uses, have been already described.
The exterior properties of bodies, such as their so¬
lidity, moisture, inequality, smoothness, dryness or flui¬
dity, and likewise their degree of heat, seem all to be
capable of making different impressions on the papillae,
and consequently of exciting different ideas in the sen¬
sorium commune. But the organ of touch, like all
the other senses, is not equally delicate in every part
of the body, or in every subjectbeing in some much
more exquisite than it is in others.
Sect. II. Of Taste.
The sense of taste is seated chiefly in the tongue j H3
the situation and figure of which are sufficiently known.
On the upper surface of this organ we may observe
a great number of papillae, which, on account of their
difference in size and shape, are commonly divided into
three classes. The largest are situated towards the
basis of the tongue. Their number commonly varies
from seven to nine, and they seem to be mucous fol¬
licles. /Those of the second class are somewhat smaller,
and of a cylindrical shape. They are most numerous
about the middle of the tongue. Those of the third
class are very minute, and of a conical shape. They
are
(t) In the course of this article, mention has often been made of the sensibility or insensibility of different
parts of the body: it will therefore, perhaps, not be amiss to observe in this place, that many parts which were
iormerly supposed to possess the most exquisite sense, are now known to have but little or no feeling, at least in
a sound state ; for in an inflamed state, even the bones, the most insensible parts of any, become susceptible of
the most painful sensations. This curious discovery is due to the late Baron Haller. His experiments px-ove,
that the bones, cartilages, ligaments, tendons, epidermis, and membranes (as the pleura, pericardium, dura and
pia mater, periosteum, &c.) may in a healthy state be considered as insensible. As sensibility depends 0:1 the
brain and nerves, of course different parts will possess a gi’eater or less degree of feeling, in proportion as they
are supplied with a greater or smaller number of nerves. Upon this principle it is, that the skin, muscles, sto¬
mach, intestines, urinary bladder, ureters, uterus, vagina, penis, tongue, and retina, are extremely sensible, while
tire lungs and glands have only an obscure degree of feeling.
ANATOM Y.
are very nuniercHS on the apex and edges of the tongue,
and have been supposed to be formed by the extremities
of its nerves.
We observe a line, the tinea linguce mediana, run¬
ning along the middle of the tongue, and dividing it as
it were into two portions. Towards the basis of the
tongue, we meet with a little cavity, named by Mor¬
gagni foramen ccecum, which seems to be nothing more
than a common termination of some of the excretory
ducts of mucous glands situated within the substance of
the tongue.
We have already observed, that this organ is every¬
where covered by the cuticle, which, by forming a re¬
duplication, called the frcenum, at its under part, serves
to prevent the too great motion of the tongue, and to
fix it in its situation. But, besides this attachment,
the tongue is connected, by means of its muscles and
membranous ligaments, to the lower jaw, the os hyoi-
des, and the styloid processes.
The principal arteries of the tongue are the linguales,
which arise from the external carotid. Its veins empty
themselves into the external jugulars. Its nerves arise
from the fifth, eighth, and ninth pair.
The variety of tastes seems to be occasioned by the
different impressions made on the papillae by the food.
The different state of the papillae with respect to their
moisture, their figure, or their covering, seems to pro¬
duce a considerable difference in the taste, not only in
different people, but in the same subject, in sickness
and in health. The great use of the taste seems to be
to enable us to distinguish wholesome and salutary food
from that which is unhealthy ; and we observe that
many quadrupeds, by having their papillae (u) very
large and long, have the faculty of distinguishing fla¬
vours with infinite accuracy.
Sect. III. Of Smelling.
I HE sense of smelling, like the sense of taste, seems
intended to direct us to a proper choice of aliment,
and is chiefly seated in the nose, which is distinguished
into its external and internal parts. The situation and
figure of the former of these do not seem to require a
definition. It is composed of bones and cartilages, co¬
vered by muscular fibres and by the common integu¬
ments. The bones make up the upper portion, and the
cartilages the lower one. The septum narium, like the
nose, is likewise in part bony, and in part cartilaginous.
These bones and their connexions were described in the
osteology.
The internal part of the nose, besides the ossa spon-
giosa, has six cavities or sinuses, the maxillary, the fron¬
tal, and the sphenoid, which were all described with the
bones of the head. They all open into the nostrils ;
and the nose likewise communicates with the month,
larynx, and pharynx, posteriorly behind the velum na-
lati. r
All these several parts, which are included in the in¬
ternal division of the nose, viz. the inner surface of the
nostrils, the lamellae of the ossa spongiosa and the sinu¬
ses, are lined by a thick and very vascular membrane
which, though not unknown to the ancients, was first
well described by Schneider *, and is therefore now
commonly namedmembrana pituitariaSchneideri. This
membrane is truly the organ of smelling j but its real
structure does not yet seem to be perfectly understood.
It appears to be a continuation of the cuticle, which
lines the inner surface of the mouth. In some parts of
the nose it is smooth and firm, and in others it is loose
and spongy. It is constantly moistened by a mucous se¬
cretion j the finer parts of which are carried off by the
air we breathe, and the remainder, by being retained
in the sinuses, acquires considerable consistence. The
manner in which this mucus is secreted has not yet been
satisfactorily ascertained j but it seems to be by means
of mucous follicles.
Its arteries are branches of the internal maxillary and
internal carotid. Its veins empty themselves into the
internal jugulars. The first pair of nerves, the olfac¬
tory, are spread over every part of it, and it likewise
receives branches from the fifth pair.
After what has been said of the pituitary membrane,
it will not be difficult to conceive how the air wTe draw
in at the nostrils, being impregnated with the effluvia
of bodies, excites in us that kind of sensation we call
smelling. As these effluvia, from their being exceed¬
ingly light and volatile, cannot be capable in a small
quantity of making any great impression on the extre¬
mities of the olfactory nerves, it was necessary to give
considerable extent to the pituitary membrane, that by
this means a greater number of odoriferous particles
might be admitted at the same time. When we wish
to take in much of the effluvia of any thing, we natu¬
rally close the mouth, that all the air we inspire may
pass through the nostrils : and at the same time, by-
means of the muscles of the nose, the nostrils are dilat¬
ed, and a greater quantity of air is drawn into them.
In many quadrupeds, the sense of smelling is much
more extensive and delicate than it is in the human
subject > and in the human subject it seems to be more
perfect the less it is vitiated by a variety of smells. It
is not always in the same state of perfection, being na¬
turally affected by every change of the pituitary mem¬
brane, and of the lymph with which that membrane is
moistened.
Sect. IV. Of Hearing.
Before we undertake to explain the manner in
which we are enabled to receive the impressions of
sound, it will be necessary to describe the ear, which
is the organ of hearing. It is commonly distinguished
into external and internal. The former of these di¬
visions includes all that we are able to discover with¬
out dissection, and the meatus auditorius, as far as the
tympanum $ and the latter, all the other parts of the
ear.
The external ear is a cartilaginous funnel, covered
by the common integuments, and attached, by means
of its ligaments and muscles, to the temporal bone.
Although
(l ) Malpighi s aescription of the papillae, which has been copied by many anatomical writers, seems to have
been taken chiefly from the tongues of sheep. r j j »
(tap. VI. A N A T
fjfthe Although capable only of a very obscure motion, it is
uses, fount! to have several muscles. Different parts of it
i ^ are distinguished by different names j all its cartilagi¬
nous part is called ala or iving, to distinguish it from
the soft and pendant part below, called the lobe. Its
outer circle or border is called helix, and the semicircle
within this, antihelix. The moveable cartilage placed
immediately before the meatus auditorius, which it
may be made to close exactly, is named tragus ; and
an eminence opposite to this, at the extremity of the
antihelix, is called antitragus. The concha is a consi¬
derable cavity formed by the extremities of the helix
and antihelix. The meatus auditorius, which at its
opening is cartilaginous, is lined with a very thin mem¬
brane, which is a continuation of the cuticle from the
surface of the ear.
In this canal we find a yellow wax, which is secreted
by a number of minute glands or follicles, each of
which has an excretory duct. The secretion, which
is at first of an oily consistence, defends the membrane
of the tympanum from the injuries of the air ; and, by
its bitterness, prevents minute insects from entering in¬
to the ear. But when from neglect or disease it accu¬
mulates in too great a quantity, it sometimes occasions
deafness. The inner extremity of the meatus is closed
by a very thin transpax-ent membrane, the membrana
tympani, which is set in a bony cii’cle like the head of
a drum. In the last century Bivinus, professor at Leip-
sic, fancied he had discovei'ed a hole in this membrane,
suiTOunded by a sphincter, and affording a passage to
the air, between the external and internal ear. Cow-
per, Heister, and some other anatomists, have admitted
this supposed foramen, which certainly does not exist.
Whenever there is any opening in the membrana tym¬
pani, it may be considered as accidental. Under the
membrana tympani runs a branch of the fifth pair of
nerves, called chorda tympani; and beyond this mem¬
brane is the cavity of the tympanum, which is about
seven or eight lines wide, and half so many in depth ;
it is semispherical, and everywhere lined by a very fine
membrane. There are four openings to be observed
in this cavity. It communicates with the mouth by
means of the Eustachian tube. This canal, which is
in part bony and in part cartilaginous, begins by a very
narrow opening at the anterior and almost superior part
of the tympanum, increasing in size as it advances to¬
wards the palate of the mouth, where it terminates by
an oval opening. This tube is everywhere lined by
the same membrane that covers the inside of the mouth.
The real use of this canal does not seem to have been
hitherto satisfactorily ascertained \ but sound would
seem to be conveyed through it to the membrana tym¬
pani, deaf persons being often observed to listen atten¬
tively with their mouths open. Opposite to this is a
minute passage, which leads to the sinuosities of the
mastoid process ; and the other two openings, which
are in the internal process of the os petrosum, are the
fenestra ovalis, and fenestra rotunda, both of which are
covered by a very fine membrane.
O M Y. 273
There are three distinct bones in the cavity of the ofthe
tympanum ; and these ai'e the malleus, incus, and stapes. Senses.
Besides these there is a fourth, which is the os orbicu- v~—1
lure, considex-ed by some anatomists as a process of the
stapes, which is necessarily broken off by the violence
we are obliged to use in getting at these bones ; but
when accui'ately considered, it seems to be a distinct
bone.
The malleus is supposed to resemble a hammer, be¬
ing larger at one extremity, which is its head, than it
is at the other, which is its handle. The latter is at¬
tached to the membrana tympani, and the head of the
bone is articulated with the incus.
The incus, as it is called from its shape, though it
seems to have less resemblance to an anvil than to one
of the dentes molares with its roots widely Separated
from each other, is distinguishedi nto its body and its
legs. One of its legs is placed at the entry of the ca¬
nal which leads to the mastoid process j and the other,
which is somewhat longei’, is articulated with the stapes,
or rather with the os orbiculare, which is placed be¬
tween them.
The third bone is very pi'operly named stapes, being
perfectly shaped like a stirrup. Its basis is fixed into
the fenestra ovalis, and its upper pai’t is articulated
with the os orbiculare. What is called \\\cfenestra ro¬
tunda, though perhaps improperly, as it is moi’e oval
than round, is observed a little above the other, in an
eminence formed by the os petrosum, and is closed by
a continuation of the membrane that lines the inner
surface of the tympanum. The stapes and malleus are
each of them furnished with a little muscle, the stape-
deus and tensor tympani. The first of these, which is
the smallest in the body, arises from a little cavern in
the posterior and upper part of the cavity of the tym¬
panum ; and its tendon, after passing tlxrough a hole
in the same cavern, is inserted at the back part of the
head of the stapes. This muscle, by drawing the sta¬
pes obliquely upwards, assists in stretching the mem¬
brana tympani.
The tensor tympani (x), or internus mallei as it is
called by some writers, arises from the cartilaginous
extremity of the Eustachian tube, and is inserted into
the back part of the handle of the malleus, which it
serves to pull upwards, and of course helps to stretch
the membrana tvmpani.
The labyrinth is the only part of the ear which re¬
mains to be described. It is situated in the os petro¬
sum, and is separated from the tympanum by a parti¬
tion which is every where bony, except at the two fe-
nestrse. It is composed of three parts j and these are
the vestibulum, the semicircular canals, and the coch¬
lea.
The vestibulum is an irregular cavity, much smaller
than the tympanum, situated nearly in the centre of the
os petrosum, between the .tympanum, the cochlea, and
the semicircular canals. It is open on the side of the
tympanum by means of the fenestra ovalis, and com¬
municates with the upper portion of the cochlea by an
oblong
(x) Some anatomists describe three muscles of the malleus j but only this one seems to deserve the name of
muscle $ what are called the externus and obliquus mallei seeming to be ligaments rather than muscles.
Vol. II. Part I.
t
Mm
*DeAqu(B-
duetibtu
Auris Hu¬
man a In¬
ternee, 8 vo.
ANA
oblong foramen, which is under the fenestra ovalis,
from which it is separated only by a very thin parti¬
tion.
Each of the three semicircular canals forms about
half a circle of nearly a line in diameter, and running
each in a different direction, they are distinguished into
vertical, oblique, and horizontal. These three canals
open by both their extremities into the vestibulum ; but
the vertical and the oblique being united together at
one of their extremities, there are only five orifices to
be seen in the vestibulum.
The cochlea is a canal which takes a spiral course,
not unlike the shell of a snail. From its basis to its
apex it makes two turns and a half; and is divided in¬
to two canals by a very thin lamina or septum, which
is in part bony and in part membranous, in such a
manner that these two canals only communicate with
each other at the point. One of them opens into the
vestibulum, and the other is covered by the membrane
that closes the fenestra rotunda. The bony lamella
which separates the two canals is exceedingly thin, and
fills about two-thirds of the diameter of the canal.
The rest of the septum is composed of a most delicate
membrane, which lines the whole inner surface of the
cochlea, and seems to form this division in the same
manner as the two membranous bags of the pleura, by
being applied to each other, form the mediastinum.
Every part of the labyrinth is furnished with a very
delicate periosteum, and filled with a watery fluid, se¬
creted as in other cavities. This fluid transmits to the
nerves the vibrations it receives from the membrane
closing the fenestra rotunda, and from the basis of the
stapes, where it rests on the fenestrum ovale. When
this fluid is collected in too great a quantity, or is com¬
pressed by the stapes, it is supposed to escape through
two minute canals or aqueducts, lately described by
Dr Cotunni*, an ingenious physician at Naples. One
of these aqueducts opens into the bottom of the vesti¬
bulum, and the other into the cochlea, near the fenestra
rotunda. They both pass through the os petrosum,
and communicate with the cavity of the cranium where
the fluid that passes through them is absorbed ; and they
are lined by a membrane which is supposed to be a pro¬
duction of the dura mater.
The arteries of the external ear come from the tem¬
poral and other branches of the external carotid, and
its veins pass into the jugular. The internal ear re¬
ceives branches of arteries from the basilary and caro¬
tids, and its veins empty themselves into the sinuses of
the dura mater, and into the internal jugular.
The portio mollis of the seventh pair is distributed
through the cochlea, the vestibulum, and the semicir¬
cular canals ; and the portio dura sends off a branch to
the tympanum, and other branches to the external ear
and parts near it.
The sense of hearing, in producing which all the
parts we have described assist, is occasioned by a cer-
Of the
Sense*,
T O M Y. Part L
tain modulation of the air collected by the funnel-like
shape of the external ear, and conveyed through the
meatus auditorius to the membrana tympani. That11 ■—y ■»
sound is propagated by means of the air, is very easily
proved by ringing a bell under the receiver of an air-
pump ; the sound it affords being found to diminish
gradually as the air becomes exhausted, till at length it
ceases to be heard at all. Sound moves through the
air with infinite velocity; but the degree of its motion
seems to depend on the state of the air, as it constantly
moves faster in a dense and dry, than it does in a moist
and rarefied air.
That the air vibrating on the membrana tympani
communicates its vibration to the different parts of the
labyrinth, and by means of the fluid contained in this
cavity affects the auditory nerve so as to produce sound,
seems to be very probable ; but the situation, the mi¬
nuteness, and the variety of the parts which compose
the ear, do not permit much to be advanced with cer¬
tainty concerning their mode of action.
Some of these parts seem to constitute the immediate
organ of hearing, and these are all the parts of the ves¬
tibulum : but there are others which seem intended for
the perfection of this sense, without being absolutely
essential to it. It has happened, for instance, that the
membrana tympani, and the little bones of the ear,
have been destroyed by disease, without depriving the
patient of the sense of hearing (yj.
Sound is more or less loud in proportion to the
strength of the vibration ; and the variety of sounds
seems to depend on the difference of this vibration ; for
the more quick and frequent it is, the more acute will
be the sound, and vice versa.
Before we conclude this article, it will be right to
explain certain phenomena, which will be found to have
a relation to the organ of hearing.
Every body has, in consequence of particular sounds,
occasionally felt that disagreeable sensation which is
usually called setting the teeth on edge; and the cause
of this sensation may be traced to the communication
which the portio dura of the auditory nerve has with
the branches of the fifth pair that are distributed to the
teeth, being probably occasioned by the violent tremor
produced in the membrana tympani by these very acute
sounds. Upon the same principle we may explain the
strong idea of sound which a person has who holds a
vibrating string between his teeth.
The humming which is sometimes perceived in the
ear, without any exterior cause, may be occasioned
either by an increased action of the arteries in the ears,
or by convulsive contractions of the muscles of the
malleus and stapes, affecting the auditory nerve in such
a manner as to produce the idea of sound. An inge¬
nious philosophical writer * has lately discovered, that
there are sounds liable to be excited in the ear by irri-
tation, and without any assistance from the vibrations
of the air. nations on
SecT.^ Senses
of Vision
 ——————— ——- and Henr¬
ing, 8vo.
Js a l,erforat',on "“"'brane ™y in some cases of deaf-
he should submit to this t' i * tha1t1fome years ag°> a malefactor was pardoned, on condition that
"4ht not perform it. P ‘0n 5 ^ PU“,C da“°“I ™seJ ^ - 8™,, ‘bat it was thought
hap. VI.
A N A T
Of the
Souses.
lee Optics,
'■ 147-
Sect. V. Of Vision.
The eyes, which constitute the organ of vision, are
situated in two bony cavities named orbits, where they
are surrounded by several parts, which are either in¬
tended to protect them from external injury, or to assist
in their motion.
The globe of the eye is immediately covered by two
eyelids or palpebrae, which are composed of muscular
fibres, covered by the common integuments, and lined
by a very fine and smooth membrane, which is from
thence extended over part of the globe of the eye,
and is called tunica conjunctiva. Each eyelid is carti¬
laginous at its edge j and this border, which is called
tarsus, is furnished with a row of hairs named cilia or
eyelashes.
The cilia serve to protect the eye from insects and
minute bodies floating in the air, and likewise to mo¬
derate the action of the rays of light in their passage
to the retina. At the roots of these hairs there are
sebaceous follicles, first noticed by Meibomius, which
discharge a glutinous liniment. Sometimes the fluid
they secrete has too much viscidity, and the eyelids be¬
come glued to each other.
The upper border of the orbit is covered by the eye¬
brows or supercilia, which by means of their two mus¬
cles are capable of being brought towards each other,
or of being carried upwards. They have been consider¬
ed as serving to protect the eyes, but they are probably
intended more for ornament than utility (z).
The orbits, in which the eyes are placed, are furnish¬
ed with a good deal of fat, which affords a soft bed on
which the eye performs its several motions. The inner
angle of each orbit, or that part of it which is near the
nose, is called canthus major, or the great angle ; and
the outer angle, which is on the opposite side of the
eye, is the canthus minor, or little angle.
The little reddish body which we observe in the
great angle of the eyelids, and which is called carun-
cula lachrymalis, is supposed to be of a glandular struc¬
ture, and, like the follicles of the eyelids, to secrete an
oily humour. But its structure and use do not seem to
have been hitherto accurately determined. The sur¬
face of the eye is constantly moistened by a very fine
limpid fluid called the tears, which is chiefly, and per¬
haps wholly, derived from a large gland of the conglo¬
merate kind, situated in a small depression of the os
frontis near the outer angle of the eye. Its excretory
ducts pierce the tunica conjunctiva just above the car¬
tilaginous borders of the upper eyelids. When the
tears w-ere supposed to be secreted by the caruncle, this
gland was called glandula innominata ; but now that
its structure and uses are ascertained, it very properly
has the name of glandula lachrymalis. The tears pour-
O M Y.
ed out of the ducts of this gland are, in a natural and
healthy state, incessantly spread over the surface of the
eye, to keep it clear and transparent by means of the
eyelids, and as constantly pass out at the opposite cor¬
ner of the eye or inner angle, through two minute ori¬
fices, the puncta lachrymalia (a) } being determined
into these little openings by a reduplication of the tu¬
nica conjunctiva, shaped like a crescent, the two points
of which answer to the puncta. This reduplication is
named membrana or valvula semilunaris. Each of
these puncta is the beginning of a small excretory tube,
through which the tears pass into a little pouch or re¬
servoir, the sacculus lachrymalis, which lies in an exca¬
vation formed partly by the nasal process of the os max-
illare superius, and partly by the os unguis. The lower
part of this sac forms a duct called the ductus ad nares,
which is continued through a bony channel, and opens
into the nose, through which the tears are occasionally
discharged (b).
The motions of the eye are performed by six mus¬
cles j four of which are straight and two oblique. The
straight muscles are distinguished by the names of ele¬
vator, depressor, adductor, and abductor, from their se¬
veral uses in elevating and depressing the eye, drawing
it towards the nose, or carrying it from the nose to¬
wards the temple. All these four muscles arise from
the bottom of the orbit, and are inserted by flat ten¬
dons into the globe of the eye. The oblique muscles
are intended for the more compound motions of the
eye. The first of these muscles, the obliquus superior,
does not, like the other four muscles we have described,
arise from the bottom of the orbit, but from the edge
of the foramen that transmits the optic nerve, which
separates the origin of this muscle from that of the
others. From this beginning it passes in a straight line
towards a very small cartilaginous ring, the situation of
which is marked in the skeleton by a little hollow in the
internal orbitar processes of the os frontis. The tendon
of the muscle, after passing through this ring, is insert¬
ed into the upper part of the globe of the eye, which it
serves to draw forwards, at the same time turning the
pupil downwards.
The obliquus inferior arises from the edge of the or¬
bit, under the opening of the ductus lachrymalis 5 and
is inserted somewhat posteriorly into the outer side of
the globe, serving to draw- the eye forwards and turn
the pupil upwards. When either of these two muscles
act separately, the eye is moved on its axis j but when
they act together, it is compressed both above and be¬
low. The eye itself, which is now to be described,
with its tunics, humours, and component parts, is
nearly of a spherical figure. Of its tunics, the con¬
junctiva has been already described as a partial cover¬
ing, reflected from the inner surface of the eyelids
over the anterior portion of the eye. What has been
named
(z) It is observable, that the eyebrows are peculiar to the human species.
(a) It sometimes happens, that this very pellucid fluid, which moistens the eye, being poured out through the
excretory ducts of the lachrymal gland faster than it can be carried oft’ through the puncta, trickles down the
cheek, and is then strictly and properly called tears.
(b) When the ductus ad nares becomes obstructed in consequence of disease, the tears are no longer able to
pass into the nostrils j the sacculus lachrymalis becomes distended ; and inflammation, and sometimes ulceration,
taking place, constitute the disease cnWcA fistula lachrymalis.
M m 2
276
OFtlie
Senses.
ANA
named albuginea cannot properly be considered as a coat
of the eye, being in fact nothing more than the tendons
J of the straight muscles spread over some parts of the
sclerotica.
I he immediate tunics of the eye, which are to be
demonstrated, when its partial coverings, and all the
other parts with which it is surrounded, are removed,
are the sclerotica, cornea, choroides, and retina.
The sclerotica, which is the exterior coat, is every¬
where white and opaque, and is joined at its anterior
edge to another, which has more convexity than any
other part of the globe, and being exceedingly trans¬
parent is called cornea (c). These two parts are per¬
fectly different in their structure ; so that some anato¬
mists suppose them to be as distinct from each other as
the glass of a watch is from the case into which it is
fixed. 1 he sclerotica is of a compact fibrous structure j
the cornea, on the other hand, is composed of a great
number of laminae united by cellular membrane. By
macerating them in boiling water, they do not separate
from each other, as some writers have asserted ; but
the cornea soon softens, and becomes of a glutinous
consistence.
The ancients supposed the sclerotica to be a continu¬
ation of the dura mater. Morgagni and some other
modern writers are of the same opinion ; but this point
is disputed by Winslow, Haller, Zinn, and others.
The truth seems to be, that the sclerotica, though not
a production of the dura mater, adheres intimately to
that membrane.
The choroides is so called because it is furnished with
a great number of vessels. It has likewise been named
uvea, on account of its resemblance to a grape. Many
modern anatomical writers have considered it as a pro¬
duction of the pia mater. This was likewise the opi¬
nion of the ancients ; but the strength and thickness of
the choroides, when compared with the delicate struc¬
ture of the pia mater, are sufficient proofs of their be¬
ing two distinct membranes.
The choroides has of late generally been described
as consisting of two laminae j the innermost of which
has been named after Ruysch, who first described it.
It is certain, however, that Ruysch’s distinction is ill
founded, at least with respect to the human eye, in
which we are unable to demonstrate any such struc¬
ture, although the tunica choroides of sheep and some
other quadrupeds may easily be separated into two '
layers.
The choroides adheres intimately to the sclerotica
round the edge of the cornea ; and at the place of this
union we may observe a little whitish areola, named
hgamentum ciliare, though it is not of a ligamentous
They who suppose the choroides to be composed of
two laminae, describe the external one as terminating
m the ligamentum .ciliare, and the external one as ex¬
tending farther to form the iris, which is the circle we
are able to distinguish through the cornea j but this
T O M Y.
part is of a very different structure from the choroides j
so that some late writers have perhaps not improperly
considered the iris as a distinct membrane. It derives
its name from the variety of its colours, and is perfo¬
rated in its middle. This perforation, which is called
the pupil or sight of the eye, is closed in the foetus by
a very thin vascular' membrane. This membrana
pupillaris commonly disappears about the seventh
month.
On the under sides of the iris, w’e observe many mi¬
nute fibres, called ciliary processes, which pass in radii
or parallel lines from the circumference to the centre.
The contraction and dilatation of the pupil are supposed
to depend on the action of these processes. Some have
considered them as muscular, but they are not of an
irritable nature; others have supposed them to be fila¬
ments of nerves > but their real structure has never yet
been clearly ascertained.
Besides these ciliary processes, anatomists usually
speak of the circular fibres of the iris, but no such
seem to exist.
The posterior surface of the iris, the ciliary processes,
and part of the tunica choroides, are covered with a
black mucus for the purposes of accurate and distinct
vision ; but the manner in which it is secreted has not
been determined.
Immediately under the tunica choroides we find the
third and inner coat, called the retina, which seems to
be merely an expansion of the pulpy substance of the
optic nerve, extending to the borders of the crystalline
humour.
The greatest part of the globe of the eye, within
these several tunics, is filled by a very transparent and
gelatinous humour of considerable consistence, which
from its supposed resemblance to fused glass, is called
the vitreous humour. It is invested by a very fine and
delicate membrane, called tunica vitrea, and sometimes
arachnoides.—Vt is supposed to be composed of two la¬
minae ; one of which dips into its substance, and by di¬
viding the humour into cells adds to its firmness. The
fore part of the vitreous humour is a little hollowed, to
receive a very white and transparent substance of a firm
texture, and of a lenticular and somewhat convex shape,
named the crystalline humour. It is included in a cap-
sula, which seems to be formed by a separation of the
two laminae of the tunica vitrea.
The fore part of the eye is filled by a very thin and
transparent fluid, named the aqueous humour, which oc¬
cupies all the space between the crystalline and the
prominent cornea.—The part of the choroides which
is called the iris, and which comes forward to form
the pupil, appears to be suspended as it were in this
humour, and has occasioned this portion of the eye to
be distinguished into two parts. One of these, which
is the little space between the anterior surface of the
crystalline and the iris, is called the posterior chamber;
and the other, which is the space between the iris and
the cornea, is called the anterior chamber of the eye(D).
Both
commonly called ^sckrrtla ^cowZTrmcc -TnTitf t0 ^ ^ JiaVe nametl w,iat Is here and most
fD'l We are awn™ tUr c 0Paca\ anfl its anterior and transparent portion, cornea lueida.
in close contact with the crys°taffine Vud^rg par.tlCU(!:lrly Lie.utaud» are of opinion, that the iris is everywhere
J ’ 111 is Oj. course right to speak only of one chamber of the eye ; but as
2 this
VI. A N A T
Botli these spaces are completely filled with the aqueous
humour (e).
The eye receives its arteries from the internal caro¬
tid, through the foramina optica j and its veins pass
through the foramina lacera, and empty themselves in¬
to the lateral sinuses. Some of the ramifications of these
vessels appear on the inner surface of the iris, where
they are seen to make very minute convolutions, which
are sufficiently remarkable to be distinguished by the
name of circulus arteriosus, though perhaps improperly,
as they are chiefly branches of veins.
The optic nerve passes in at the posterior part of the
eye, in a considerable trunk, to be expanded for the
purposes of vision, of which it is now universally suppo¬
sed to be the immediate seat. But Messrs Mariotte and
Mery contended, that the choroides is the seat of this
sense ; and the ancients supposed the crystalline to be
so. Besides the optic, the eye receives branches from
the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth pair of nerves.
The humours of the eye, together with the cornea,
are calculated to refract and converge the rays of light
in such a manner as to form at the bottom of the eye
a distinct image of the object we look at; and the
point where the rays meet is called the focus of the
eye. On the retina, as in a camera obscura, the ob¬
ject is painted in an inverted position ; and it is only
by habit that we are enabled to judge of its true situa-
O M Y.
277
tion, and likewise of its distance and magnitude. To
a young gentleman who was born blind, and who was
couched by Mr Cheselden, every object (as he expres¬
sed himself) seemed to touch his eyes, as what he felt
did his skin j and he thought no objects so agreeable
as those which were smooth and regular, although for
some time he could form no judgment of their shape,
or guess what it was in any of them that was pleasing
to him.
In order to paint objects distinctly on the retina,
the cornea is required to have such a degree of con¬
vexity, that the rays of light may be collected at a cex>
tain point, so as to terminate exactly on the retina.—
If the cornea is too prominent, the rays, by diverging
too soon, will be united before they reach the reti¬
na, as is the case with near-sighted people ox myopes ;
and, on the contrary, if it is not sufficiently convex,
the rays will not be perfectly united when they reach
the back part of the eye j and this happens to long¬
sighted people or presbi, being found constantly to take
place as we approach to old age, when the eye gra¬
dually flattens (f). These defects are to be supplied
by means of glasses. He who has too prominent an
eye, will find his vision improved by means of a concave
glass $ and upon the same principles, a convex glass
will be found useful to a person whose eye is naturally
too flat.
EXPLANATION of PLATE XXXII.
Fig. I. Shows the Lachrymal Canals, after the Com¬
mon Teguments and Bones have been cut away.
a, The lachrymal gland, b, The two puncta lachry-
malia, from which the two lachrymal canals proceed to
c, the lachrymal sac. d, The large lachrymal duct,
e, Its opening into the nose, f, The caruncula lachry-
rnalis. g, The eyeball.
Fig. 2. An Interior View of the Coats and Humours
of the Eye.
aaaa, The tunica sclerotica cut in four angles, and
turned back, bbbb, The tunica choroides adhering to
the inside of the sclerotica, and the ciliary vessels are
seen passing over—cc, The retina, which covers the vi¬
treous humour, dd, The ciliary processes, which were
continued from the choroid coat, ee, The iris, f, The
pupil.
Fig. 3. Shows the Optic Nerves, and Muscles of the
Eye.
aa, The two optic nerves before they meet, b, The
two optic nerves conjoined, c, The right optic nerve.
d, Musculus attollens palpebrae superioris. e, Attolle'ns
oculi. f, Abductor, gg, Obliquus superior, or troch-
learis. h, Adductor, i, The eyeball.
Fig. 4. Shows the Eyeball with its Muscles,
a, The optic nerve, b, Musculus trochlearis. c, Pari
of the os frontis, to which the trochlea or pulley is fix¬
ed, through which,—d, The tendons of the trochlearis
pass, e, Attollens oculi. f, Adductor oculi. g, Ab¬
ductor oculi. h, Obliquus inferior, i, Part of the su¬
perior maxillary bone to which it is fixed, k, The eye¬
ball.
Fig. 5. Represents the Nerves and Muscles of theEight
Eye, after part of the Bones of the Orbit have been
cut away.
A, The eyeball. B, The lachrymal gland. C, Mus¬
culus abductor oculi. D, Attollens. E, Levator
palpebrae superioris. F, Depressor oculi. G, Adduc¬
tor. H, Obliquus superior, with its pulley. . I, Its
insertion into the sclerotic coat. K, Part of the obli¬
quus inferior. L, The anterior part of the os frontis
cut.
this does not appear to be the case, the situation of the iris and the two chambers of the eye are here described
in the usual way.
(e) When the-crystalline becomes opaque, so as to prevent the passage of the rays of light to the retina, it
constitutes what is called a cataract; and the operation of couching consists in removing the diseased crystalline,
from its bed in the vitreous humour. In this operation the cornea is perforated, and the aqueous humour escapes
out of the eye, but it is constantly renewed again in a very short time. The manner, however* in which it is se¬
creted has not yet been determined.
(f) Upon this principle, they, who in their youth are near-sighted, may expect to see better as they advance,
in life, as their eyes gradually become more flat.
278 ANATOM Y. Part II
Of the cut. M, The crista galli of the ethmoid bone. N, The
Senses, posterior part of the sphenoid bone. O, Transverse
““"V spinous process of the sphenoid bone. P, The carotid
artery, denuded where it passes through the bones.
Q, The carotid artery within the cranium. R, The
ocular artery.
Nerves.—aa, The optic nerve. b, The third
pair.—c, Its joining with a branch of the first branch
of the fifth pair, to form 1, the lenticular ganglion.—
which sends off the ciliary nerves, d. ee, The fourth
pair. f, The trunk of the fifth pair. g, The first
branch of the fifth pair, named ophthalmic. h, The
frontal branch of it. i, Its ciliary branches, along
with which the nasal twig is sent to the nose, k, Its
branch to the lachrymal gland. 1, The lenticular gan¬
glion. m, The second branch of the fifth pair, named
superior maxillary, n, The third branch of the fifth
pair, named inferior maxillary, o, The sixth pair of
nerves,—which sends off, p, the beginning of the great
sympathetic, q, The remainder of the sixth pair, spent
on c, the abductor oculi.
Fig. 6. Represents the Head of a Youth, where the
upper part of the Cranium is sawed off,—to show the
Upper Part of the Brain, covered with the Pia Ma¬
ter, the vessels of which are minutely filled with wax.
A A., The cut edges of the upper part of the cra¬
nium. B, The two tables and intermediate diploe.
BB, The two hemispheres of the cerebrum. CC, The
incisure made by the falx. D, Part of the tentorium
cerebello super expansum. E, Part of the falx, which
is fixed to the crista galli.
Fig. 7. Represents the parts of the External Ear, with
the Parotid Gland and its Duct.
aa, The helix. b, The antihelix. c, The anti- ofthe
tragus, d, The tragus, e, The lobe of the ear. f, Senses,
The cavitas innominata, g, The scapha. b, The UT'""'
concha. ii, The parotid gland. k, A lymphatic
gland, which is often found before the tragus. 1, The
duct of the parotid gland. m, Its opening into the
mouth.
Fig. 8. A View of the Posterior Part of the External
Ear, Meatus Auditorius, Tympanum, with its Small
Bones, and Eustachian tube of the Right Side,
a, The back part of the meatus, with the small ce¬
ruminous glands, b, The incus, c, Malleus, d, The
chorda tympani. e, Membrana tympani. f, The Eu¬
stachian tube, g, Its mouth from the fauces.
Fig. 9. Represents the Anterior Part of the Right Ex¬
ternal ear, the Cavity of the Tympanum—its Small
Bones, Cochlea, and Semicircular Canals,
a, The malleus, b, Incus with its long leg, resting
upon the stapes, c, Membrana tympani. d, e, The
Eustachian tube, covered by part of—ff, the musculus
circumflexus palati. 1, 2, 3, The three semicircular
canals. 4, The vestible. 5, The cochlea. 6, The
portio mollis of the seventh pair of nerves.
Fig. 10. Shows the Muscles which compose the fleshy
substance of the Tongue.
aa, The tip of the tongue, with some of the papil¬
lae minimoe. b, The root of the tongue, c, Part of
the membrane of the tongue, which covered the epi¬
glottis. dd, Part of the musculus hyo-glossus. e, The
lingual is. f, Genio-glossus. gg, Part of the stylo¬
glossus.
PART II.
COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.
HAVING fully examined and described the struc¬
ture of man, we are now to take a view of that of the
inferior animals, and to consider in what the rest of
animated nature differs from man.
[ 145 Comparative anatomy was formerly, as we have
shewn in the history, much more cultivated than that
of the human body j but when the prejudices of bigo¬
try and ignorance subsided, and allowed human dissec¬
tion to be more freely exercised, the study of this spe¬
cies of anatomy was almost entirely neglected. Of
late, however, it has attracted the attention of several
of the most eminent naturalists and anatomists, parti¬
cularly of Monro, Hunter, Vicq d’Azyr, and Cuvier,
from whose labours it has received considerable im¬
provement, and has attained a degree of accuracy and
an extent of application, which render it an object of
inquiry highly interesting to the philosopher and the
physician.
146 Many advantages are derived from the study of
comparative anatomy. First, It furnishes us with a
sufficient knowledge of the several parts of animals, to
prevent our being imposed on by those authors who
3
have described and delineated many organs from brutes
as belonging to the human body. That this is of im¬
portance, is evinced by examining the works of some
of the earliest and greatest masters of anatomy, who,
for want of human subjects, have often taken their de¬
scriptions from other animals j Galen is notoriously
faulty in this respect, and the great Vesalius, though
he justly reproved Galen, has fallen into the same er¬
ror, as is plain from his delineations of the kidneys,
the uterus, the muscles of the eye, and other parts.
Nor is antiquity only chargeable with this, since in
Willis’s Anatomia Cerebri (the plates of which were
revised by that accurate anatomist Dr Lower) there
are several of the figures taken from different brutes,
especially from the dog, besides what he acknowledges
for such.
Secondly, It helps us to understand several passages
in the ancient writers on medicine, especially Hippo¬
crates and Galen, who have taken many of their de¬
scriptions from brutes, and reasoned from them.
Thirdly, It affords one of the best assistants and most
certain guides in the study of natural history $ and the
best
A
ANATOMY.
PLATE XXI.
FJmr.
Fig. 5'
Fig .1 ■
Fig. 2.
Fig. 4.
F.ua'f by . 1 .Wilson
Fig fy-
PLATE XXII.
Fig .6.
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Wm »tA,
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WmU ■
W Mm
' W fir- £ cl
ANAT OMY.
Fi<f .1.
Dnq ? Tjy^l-Wilson. Tidin C
ANATOMY.
Kg.l.
PLATE XXIII.
Uruf 4 by W.^lrcJubald I'din r
Fiq.jg
l\ X A T OMY
BI.^lTE XXI V .
Ei(/. 41.
Fiy. J'3.
Xiy. 3.
Xrg/J.
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7'j//. JC.
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a
X/u/ruwd by J. Grant Eilmi
xxw/.
Eng f by ~f\r.^4reh£baltL Et&rS
ANATOMY
rr,A tu xxvfii
Engf by WArchibald, EcUix/l
E Afr/rZ s’/tyrn/^/ {
ANATOMY.
PLATE AW
/
A'. J\[itr/u/ly'caJfi f
ANATOMY.
PLATE XXXH.
r,/). 3.
Fit,, i
Fig- &•
Fig. JO-
AWilsen sculp*
Chap. I.
A N A T
Central test anti most scientific methods of arranging the several
variations, classes of organized beings, are founded on their anato-
mica! structure.
* " Fourthly, From comparing the organization of man
with that of other animals, we derive considerable aid
in our physiological researches, as many functions of
the animal economy can be but imperfectly understood,
without comparing in various classes the organs which
are subservient to them. From a want of this compa¬
rative view, there have arisen among anatomists many
disputes, which a more enlarged acquaintance with this
subject has decided.
To these advantages of comparative anatomy, we
may add, that it may be practised at all times and in
all places j and this enables those, who from preju¬
dice or delicacy, are withheld from the study of ana¬
tomy on the human subject, to acquire at an easy rate
a knowledge of this useful science, sufficient for the
usual purposes of a liberal education.
&c.
148
O M Y. 279
In the view which we are here to take of compara- General
tive anatomy, it is by no means our intention to enter variations,
into a particular detail of the structure of the several
species, or even genera of animals. We propose, how¬
ever, to consider pretty fully the diversities of organiza¬
tion exhibited by the several classes, and to exemplify
these by some well known individuals of each. We
shall thus, we trust, render the subject interesting to
the general reader, for whom this article is calculated,
rather than for professional men ; and enable the na¬
turalist, the veterinary student, the sportsman, and the
artist, to profit by our labours. But before entering
on the particular comparative view of the several clas¬
ses, we think it proper to premise a few general obser¬
vations on the variations which appear in the organiza¬
tions and functions of animals, on the relations which
take place among these variations, and the arrange¬
ment of animals founded on them.
CHAP. I. GENERAL VARIATIONS IN THE ORGANIZATION AND FUNCTIONS.
THE most obvious and simple function of an ani¬
mal is motion, and we therefore begin with the organs
by which this is produced. All animals are furnished
with muscles, or muscular fibres, but a great propor¬
tion of them have nothing analogous to bone. In
those which have bones, there are two striking distinc¬
tions j in one division they are situated within the
mnscles, forming an internal articulated skeleton; in
the other they form an external scaly or shelly cover¬
ing, within which the muscles are included.
Those animals which are furnished with articulated
skeletons, and constituting what is called a vertebral
column, are denominated vertebral animals. Of these
there are four orders, the mammalia, birds, fishes, and
reptiles. All other animals, comprehending the mol •
lusca, insects, worms, and zoophytes, may be called
imertebral animals.
The general differences in the organs of sensation
are much less simple j they may be considered as re¬
specting the internal nervous system, and the organs of
the external senses. With respect to the former, some
animals appear to have no nervous system, as the zoo¬
phytes j another class has all of this internal system ex¬
cept the brain, situated in the same cavity with the vis¬
cera, as the mollusca, insects, and some of the articu¬
lated worms; the third and most complete class, have
the common origin of the nerves situated in a cavity,
distinct from that of the viscera, within the vertebral
column j this comprehends all the vertebral animals.
The two first classes have the ganglia or nervous knots,
(Vid. Ganglia, Anatomy') forming protuberances in
the general nervous cord, as is the case with insects
and some articulated worms •, or have them only within
the larger cavities, as the mollusca : the last division
have them either on the sides of the cord, or within the
cavities, or both.
The external senses differ in number and energy.
All the vertebral animals agree with man in having five
senses. Of the invertebral animals, all appear to pos¬
sess smell, taste, and feeling \ most of the mollusca and
insects, as far as is yet known, are without hearing $
and the mollusca who want heads, the larvae, of some
insects, many of the articulated worms, and all the
zoophytes, are not possessed of sight. The energy of
the senses varies very considerably in different classes,
and in different individuals j some, as most of the dogs,
the vulture, and most of the sarcophaga, or animals
which prey on carrion, have the sense of smelling ex¬
tremely acute, and in these the membrane lining the
nasal cavities appears to be proportionally more ex¬
tended than in others. Some excel in the sense of
feeling, particularly man and the monkey tribe, in
whom the extremities are most divided, most delicate,
and furnished with the most minute ramifications of the
superficial nerves. Man, and those animals who, like
man, have the power of moving the head in all direc¬
tions, possess a great extent of vision, both as to circuit
and distance ; and these have two eyes sunk and fixed
within the head : others, as most insects, which are to
see minute objects near at hand, have either several eyes,
or at least eyes containing several lenses. But the differ¬
ences which appear in these organs will be fully noticed
in comparing the several classes.
The organs of digestion furnish us with two great T58
distinctions. Some animals, as most of the zoophytes,
have only one opening to the alimentary canal, which
serves both for the taking in of »liment, and the rejec¬
tion of the excrement in all others this canal has two
distinct openings, at a greater or less distance from
each other, according as the convolutions of this canal
are more or less numerous. Another difference which
has a considerable influence on the nature of the aliment,
adapted to the several species is, that some animals have
the mouth furnished with teeth or other hard bodies for
the purpose of breaking down solids, and that others want
these organs. In the latter case, the animal, if its mouth
be large, can swallow its food entire, or if its mouth
be in the form of a tube, can only suck in fluid sub¬
stances. The nature of the bodies which the animal
is to masticate, is also influenced by the form of the
teeth : thus some animals have only teeth formed for
cutting and tearing, and therefore can only subsist on
flesh, or are carnivorous ; others have chiefly grinding
teeth, calculated only for bruising herbs and grain,
an.ti'4
^Bo
A N A
*53
-154
General and these are herbivorous j a third class have both, and
variations, are omnivorous. The difFerence of aliment is attended
. ecc' with a correspondent difference in the structure of the
alimentary canal, as to its greater or smaller length, the
number of Stomachs, &c.
The chyle formed from the aliment by the action of
these organs, is carried to its place of destination in
one of two ways ; it either exudes through the sides of
the alimentary canal, or it is absorbed by particular
vessels, by which it is conveyed into the general circu¬
lation. The former takes place in the zoophytes, and
according to Cuvier in most insects, which appear to
possess no proper circulating vessels. The latter is the
case in the mollusca, and in all the vertebral animals j
but these have the blood red and the chyle white, while
those have all the fluids of the same whitish colour. Of
the vertebral animals too, the chyle is opake in some,
as the mammalia, and ti'ansparent like the lymph in
others, as in birds, fishes, and reptiles.
In the organs of circulation several very important
distinctions take place.
Some appear to have no circulating system, as in¬
sects and zoophytes. In those which possess circulat¬
ing organs, some have a double circulation, or in them
all the venous blood passes through the lungs, before it
again enter the arterial system, as man, mammalia,
birds, fishes, and many of the mollusca j others have
only a single circulation, or in these a great part of
the venous blood re-enters the arterial system, with¬
out passing through the lungs, as in reptiles. The
structure and position of the heart is different in various
classes. In some it is double, one part serving for cir¬
culating the blood through the lungs, and the other
for distributing it through the rest of the body j and
in this case the parts may be united, as in man, the
mammalia, and birds, or they may be distinct, as in the
cuttle-fish. In others the heart is single, or consists
of one ventricle, which may he situated either at the
base of the general artery, as in snails and some other
mollusca, or at the base of the pulmonary artery, as in
fishes.
The organs of respiration display striking varieties,
first, according to the element which is to serve as the
medium j if this be air, it is received into the interior
of the respiratory organs; if it be water, it merely
glides over the surface of lamellse, which have been
named branchiae, as in fishes and many of the mollus¬
ca, or of fringes, as in some worms. The air may fie
admitted into the body by one opening or by many.
The former is the case with all animalsNvho have pro¬
per lungs j the tube which receives the air is subdivid¬
ed into numerous branches terminating in cells, which
aie reunited, usually, into two masses, which the ani¬
mal can at pleasure compress or dilate. In insects,
which respire through many openings, the air vessels
are most minutely ramified, so as to admit the air to
every part of the body, and these animals are said to
respire by tracheae. Lastly, The zoophytes, with the
exception of the echinodermata, appear to have no re¬
spiratory organs.
There are only two general differences in the organs
of voice, and these respect the position of the glottis,
where the sound is formed. In birds, this is situated
at the base of the windpipe, where this divides into
*55
*5*
b.
B, a.
with an internal cartilaginous skeleton.
Cartilaginous Fishes.
with an external horny skeleton.
Perfect Insects, Lithophytes.
b. Animals
&c.
*57
T O M Y. Part II
two branches going to the lungs ; in quadrupeds and General
reptiles, it is placed at the commencement of the variatioml
windpipe, at the root of the tongue. Only these three
classes have a glottis j in others sounds are produced
by various mechanical means, by which the external
air, or that contained within some part of their bodies,
is set in rapid motion.
The differences which take place in the organs of ge¬
neration are of two kinds, as they relate to the action
itself, and to the consequences of this action. In a few
animals which mostly belong to the zoophytes, there is
no copulation, but the young grows upon the body of
the parent, like a shoot upon a tree : others propagate
only by copulation, and are of course of two sexes j
these, however, may be distinct in different animals, or
united in the same; this last only takes place in the
mollusca and the zoophytes: all the vertebral animals
and insects have the sexes distinct.
In hermaphrodite animals each individual can gene¬
rate alone, as the bivalve shell fish ; others copulate re¬
ciprocally, or each individual performs the double office
of male and female ; this is the case with snails, and
such other of the mollusca as crawl on the belly.
As to the produce of generation, there are three
modes in which the offspring is brought forth. Some
animals, as some of the zoophytes and of articulated
worms, produce shoots which remain for some time on
the body of the animals, and these are gemmiparous.
Others, as man and the mammalia, contain the foetus
within a uterus, to which it is connected by a net-work
of blood vessels, and from which it is sent forth alive;
these, therefore, are viviparous. A third class, compre¬
hending all the other animals, have the young contain¬
ed within a shell, and enveloped by a substance which
it absorbs before it is hatched; the viper may seem an
exception to this division, as it brings forth its young
alive; but then these have been hatched in the recep¬
tacle which contained the eggs ; these animals are call¬
ed oviparous.
Lastly, The organs of secretion show some diversity.
All the vertebral animals and some mollusca secrete
by means of glands situated in various parts of the
body, or at least by means of expansions of vessels.
The only secretory organs in insects seem to be tubes
of various lengths, which attract, with the spongy tis¬
sue of their sides, those fluids which they are to sepa¬
rate from the general nutritious mass. The secretory
organs in the zoophytes are very imperfectly under¬
stood.
These are the principal general differences which we
had to notice as taking place in aniipals. The fol¬
lowing Table exhibits a comprehensive view of these,
arranged in the order in which we have enumerated
them.
1. OSSIFICATION..
a. Animals with an internal bony skeleton.
Man, Mammalia, Birds, Reptiles,
Fishes properly so called.
General
elations,
&c.
;hap. II. ANA
b. Animals with an external cretaceous skeleton.
Crustacea, and most of the Zoo¬
phytes.
C.   without a skeleton.
Larvje of Insects, Worms, Po¬
lypi.
2. IRRITABILITY.
A. Animals which have the whole body muscular.
Most larvae of Insects, Worms, Po¬
lypi.
B. ■ ■ ■ '■■■■- which have the muscles covering the ske¬
leton.
Man, Mammalia, Birds, Fishes, Rep¬
tiles.
C.  which have the muscles covered by the
skeleton.
Perfect Insects, Crustacea.
3. SENSATION.
A. Animals which have a brain and nerves readily di¬
stinguished from the spinal marrow.
Man, Mammalia, Birds, Fishes, Rep¬
tiles.
B.
a
— which have a brain and nerves scarcely to
be distinguished from the spinal marrow.
Insects, Crustacea, Worms.
— — which have no apparent sensorium.
Zoophytes.
4. DIGESTION.
A. Animals which have one stomach, or more, readily
distinguished from the oesophagus and
the alimentary canal.
Man, Mammalia, Birds, Crustacea^
B. 1 ■ which have the stomach distinguished from
the oesophagus and alimentary canal
only by certain swellings.
Fishes and Reptiles.
C.
which have only an alimentary canal.
Insects, Worms, Zoophytes.
5. CIRCULATION.
A. a. Animals with red blood, and a heart having two
ventricles and two auricles,
Man, Mammalia, Birds.
A—— 1 with a heart having one ventricle di¬
vided into several cavities, and two
auricles.
Reptiles. ■
<?■ ■ with a hbart having but one ventricle
and one auricle.
Fishes.
T O M Y. 281
B. Animals with white blood, and a heart formed General
of a longitudinal canal jointed and relations,
contractile.
Most Crustacea, Worms.
See.
C.     without a heart, but with fluids contained
in vessels.
Insects, Zoophytes.
6. RESPIRATION.
A. a. Animals which respire by means of lungs not
adhering and spongy.
Man, Mammalia.
A
c..
——which respire by means of lungs not ad¬
hering, but formed of cells, and mus¬
cular.
Reptiles.
— which respire by means of lungs adhe¬
ring to the ribs, and furnished with
appendages.
Birds.
B. ——which respire by means of gills of va¬
rious forms.
Fishes, Crustacea.
C. ■  -which respire by means of stigmata, or
holes situated in different rings.
Insects, Terrestrial Worms.
J). —- which respire by means of trache*e, or
by external fringed bodies.
Aquatic Worms.
E.  — which appear to have neither stigmata
nor tracheae.
Zoophytes ex. Echinodermata.
7. GENERATION.
A. Animals viviparous.
Man, Mammalia.
B. —— oviparous.
Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, Insects,
Crustacea, Worms.
C.   which may be propagated by cuttings.
Worms, Polypi.
8. SECRETION.
A. Animals secreting by means of glands.
Man, Mammalia, Birds, Fishes, Rep¬
tiles, and some Mollusc a.
B. 1 ' -which appear to have no glands.
Some Mollusca, Insects, Worms,
Zoophytes.
CHAP. II. GENERAL RELATIONS WHICH TAKE PLACE AMONG THE VARIATIONS
OF ORGANIZATION AND FUNCTIONS.
E shall best observe these relations by comparing
together the several functions, two by two.
To begin with one of the most obvious, respiration,
we perceive that this is always regulated by the mo¬
tion of the nutritious fluid. In animals which are
furnished with a heart and vessels, there is a central
Voi. II. Part I. 4-
receptacle, in which this fluid is collected, and from
which it is distributed to every part of the body } the
heart is its great goal, from which it sets out, and to
which it must return before performing a new cir¬
cuit.
It must, therefore, at its source undergo the action
Nn of
282
General
relations,
&e.
I5:S
259
260
A N A T
of the air, and accordingly, before it is sent through the
general artery, to the various organs, it is circulated
through the lungs or branchiae for this purpose. But
in animals, as insects, which have neither heart nor ves¬
sels, this correspondence is unnecessary. In them the
nutritious fluid has no regular motion, no general
source ; it could not have been prepared in a separate
organ, before its distribution to the rest of the body,
as, exuding through the pores of the intestinal canal, it
continually bathes the several parts, and introduces fresh
particles between those which compose them. The air,
therefore, could exert its action only at the very points
of this introduction, and the very instant when it hap¬
pens. This is extremely well provided for by the dispo¬
sition of the tracheae, as there is no one solid point in
the bodies of insects to which the fine ramifications of
the air-vessels do not extend, and at which the chemical
action of the air does not take place. As we clearly
see the causes of these relations between the organs be¬
longing to these two functions of respiration and circu¬
lation, we are authorized to conclude that other rela¬
tions, which are found to hold between them, depend
upon causes of the same kind, though perhaps not equal¬
ly evident.
For instance, of those animals who have blood-vessels
and a double circulation, some respire by admitting the
air immediately into the spongy substance of the lungs,
and in these the two trunks of the large arteries approach
each other, and are furnished with muscular ventricles
united into one fleshy mass; others respire through the
medium of water passing between the folds of their
branchise, and in these the two trunks are always sepa¬
rated, whether each be furnished with a separate ven¬
tricle as in the cuttle-fish, or both have a common ven¬
tricle as in fishes and the mollusca.
The relation which subsists between respiration and
motion is more easily explained. We find, that those
animals which move quickest, and are constantly resi¬
dent in the air, stand most in need of pure air, and can
obtain it with the greatest facility. The constant de¬
mand for fresh air, is found by modern chemistry to be
owing to the loss of irritability in the muscular fibre,
which is supplied by something from the air. Birds,
therefore, who, from the swiftness of their motion, and
consequent loss of irritability, have the greatest demand
for fresh air, have also the most complete and extensive
respiratory organs. In reptiles, again, whose motion is
generally very slow, and whose irritability is retained
with great obstinacy, these organs are incomplete, and
their vessels confounded with those of the general circu¬
lation, and they can exist long without air. The mam¬
malia seem to hold the middle rank between these two
extremes.
The relations which take place between the differen-
161
O M Y. Part]
ces of the organs of sensation, with those of respiration,
likewise deserve attention.
In animals with cold blood, the external senses are
much less acute than in the warm-blooded animals j and
in the former the brain is less, and does not completely
fill the skull. This is doubtless owing to the slower mo¬
tion of the cold-blooded animals requiring less nervous
energy.
The digestive organs are found to possess more power
in proportion as those of respiration are more active, as
the great waste occasioned by these must be compen¬
sated by a proportional supply of aliment received.
Hence in birds, the stomach is extremely powerful, the
digestion vex-y vigorous, and the demand for food fre¬
quent and importunate ; while reptiles require very lit¬
tle nourishment, and can remain very long without a
fresh supply.
We have seen the relations which subsist between
the organs of x-espiration and those of digestion. These
last are also immediately related to the ox-gans of mo¬
tion and of sensation j for the natui'e of the aliment by
which the animal is to be nourished is completely de¬
termined by the disposition of the alimentary canal ;
but if the animal had not its organs of sensation and
of motion calculated for distinguishing and procuring
its proper food, it is evident that it could not exist:
thus an animal who can digest only flesh, must of ne¬
cessity be enabled to perceive, to pursue, to seize, to
overcome, and tear in pieces its proper prey. It must
therefore possess a piercing sight, an acute smell, a ra¬
pid motion, agility, and considerable strength in its
jaws and talons. Accordingly, we never see existing
in the same animal a tooth formed for cutting flesh to¬
gether with a horny foot j this explains why every
animal with hoofs is hex-bivorous, and why hoofs in¬
dicate grinding teeth with flattened crowns, a very
long alimentary canal, a large stomach, or several
stomachs, and many other similar relations. Among
all these relations there are many which have some¬
thing in common, and there are always some in which
the diffei’ences are few, so that by bringing together
those which have the nearest resemblance, we are en¬
abled to form a kind of series, which will appear gi'a-
dually to proceed from a primitive standard. Hence
the idea of a scale of beings, which some naturalists
have formed, exhibiting a regular gradation, beginning
at the most perfect, and descending to the most simple
state of organization, or vice venia. As the links
which constitute this chain are by no means entirely
known, a perfect scale of beings is at present not to be
expected.
The following table displays a series of animals, be¬
ginning with the most simple state of organization, and
ascending to the most perfect.
SCALE
ANATOMY.
Chap,
Arrange¬
ment of A-
aimals, &c.
III.
SCALE of Animals according to the greater or less simplicity of their Structure.
f’Polypes. Hydra. Linne.
J Biphores.
I. Having only a stomach, - - J Vinegar eels. Fors'kall.
L Vibrio.
2. A stomach and intestines,
r Sea anemonies.
Actinias.
Nettles.
Medusa.
Argonauts.
Beroe.
Most animalcula of vegetable in¬
fusions.
Linne.
rFlower-polypes.
3. Having beside these an external organ for respira-I Vorticellce.
tion in the water, ) Brachioni.
LBotrylli.
4. Having besides these, some viscera, a system of ah- f
sorbents, organs of generation, (but not of copu-J *
lation) and a net-work of nerves, - ^Animal's of the bivalve shells.
5. Having beside, a blood-vessel, and sometimes ‘te 7 Intest;nal worms,
sense of seeing, j
6. Having beside, organs of copulation (hermaphro-'j
dites) a heart without auricles, but with distinct
pulsations, nervous ganglia, the sense of vision, f of the unlvalve 8heli8.
and an imperfect organ ot mastication, j .
y. Having besides a brain, organs of locomotion, male
and female organs of generation distinct, some¬
times the sense of hearing, and an external bony
system, -
8. Having rudiments of an internal bony system, al CartIiaglnous fisheg.
heart and blood-vessels, - - J
9. Having a complete internal bony system,
10. Having internal lungs, and an organ of smelling,
11. Having besides a bilocular heart,
Miller.
Pallas.
Linne.
1
V Insects.
J
Fishes properly so called.
Amphibia.
Birds.
12. Having perfect organs of taste and mastication, or-T Mammalia,
gans for secreting milk, and a uterus, - j^Man.
283
Arrange¬
ment of A-
nimals, 2*c.
* '
CHAP. III. ARRANGEMENT OF ANIMALS FOUNDED ON THE GENERAL.
DIFFERENCE OF THEIR ORGANIZATION.
HAVING taken a survey of the general differences
which take place in the organization and functions of
animals, and of the relations which subsist among these
differences j we are now to proceed to a summary
view of the whole animal kingdom, and consider what
is common in the organization of the various classes of
which it is composed.
The whole animal kingdom is generally divided in¬
to two great families, that of the vertebral animals,
who have red blood j and that of the invertebral ani¬
mals, almost all of which have white blood.
In the first division we always find an interior arti¬
culated skeleton, of which the principal support is the
vertebral column, having the head at its atlantal ex¬
tremity, and containing within its cavity the general
origin of the nerves j its sacral extremity is commonly
prolonged to form a tail. The ribs, which are seldom
wanting, are situated on both sides of this column (g).
These
(g) As the terms generally employed in the human anatomy are by no means calculated for describing the
Nns structure
284
Of Qua. These animals have never more than four limbs j but
dmpeds. In some of them two of these are wanting, in others
  * 'all.
Their brain is always contained within a peculiar
cavity of the head called the cranium ; all the spinal
nerves send off filaments to assist in forming a nervous
chord, which is derived from one of the nerves of the
cranium, and is distributed to most of the viscera.
They have always five senses : two eye$ which they
can move at pleasure ; the ear has always at least three
semicircular canals ; the organ of smell is always con¬
fined to cavities in the fore part of the head ; there is
always at least one fleshy ventricle, by which the circu¬
lation of the blood is carried on j sometimes there are
two ventricles, which are always united.
The lymphatic vessels are always distinct from the
blood-vessels.
The jaws are always situated horizontally, and sepa¬
rate from above downwards.
The alimentary canal is continued from the mouth
to the anus, which is always situated behind the bones
with which the sacral extremities are articulated.
The intestines are enveloped in a membranous bag,
called peritonceum.
There are always a liver, and a pancreas or sweet¬
bread, by which liquors are secreted for the purposes of
digestion, and a spleen, in which one part of the blood,
which goes afterwards to the liver, undergoes some pre¬
vious change.
The urine is always separated by two kidneys, which
are situated on both sides of the vertebral column with¬
out the peritonaeum, and above which are always two
bodies called atrabiliary capsules, the use of which is
unknown. The vertebral animals are subdivided into
two sections j the hot-blooded, and the cold-blooded.
In the hot-blooded vertebral animals there is always
a heart and a double circulation. Respiration is carried
on by means of lungs, and without the exercise of this
function they cannot exist.
The brain in these animals completely fills the cavity
of the skull, and their eyes close by means of lids. The
tympanum of their ear is sunk in the solid bone of the
Part I
skull, as the parts of the labyrinth are entirely surround- Of Qua
ed by bone j besides the semicircular canal, there is al- | dnipedi;
ways an organ with two spiral cavities, like the shell of J"'* ^
a snail •, the nostrils serve for the passage of the air in
breathing, and form a communication with the mouth.
The trunk is always surrounded by the ribs, and there
are for the most part four limbs.
The cold-blooded vertebral animals are deficient in
several of these particulars j many of them want ribs,
and some of them have no limbs. In them the brain
never entirely fills the cavity of the skull, and their eye¬
lids are seldom moveable j the tympanum of their ear,
as also the small bones, is often wanting, the spiral ca¬
vity always ; when the tympanum is present, it is never
sunk within the skull.
Each of these two divisions is again subdivided into
two classes ; the former into the mammalia and the
birds ; the latter into the fishes and the reptiles: the
structure of these classes will be considered in their pro¬
per place.
The invertebral animals have fewer common circum¬
stances, and constitute a less regular series than those
of which we have been speaking j their hard parts, when
they are present, are generally, at least when articulat¬
ed, placed externally. No part of their nervous system
is contained within a bony sheath, but floats in a com¬
mon cavity with the viscera.
The brain only is placed above the alimentary ca¬
nal $ from it proceed two branches which embrace the
gullet like a collar, and from which the general bundle
of the nerves is formed. In these animals respiration
is never carried on by means of cellular lungs, and
they are all destitute of voice 5 their jaws have no par¬
ticular direction, and their mouths are often merely
suckers j they have no kidneys, and consequently se¬
crete no urine $ if they have limbs, these are always at
least six in number.
Considered in an anatomical point of view, they may
be divided into five classes, namely, the mollusca, the
Crustacea, insects, worms, and-zoophytes. We shall
treat of these several classes in the order in which we
have enumerated them.
anatomy.
CHAP. IV. MAMMALIA, OR QUADRUPEDS.
Sect. I. General Observations.
162
Whether A QUESTION has been started by some fanciful phi-
man is na. losophers, “ Whether man is naturally a biped or a
turally a quadruped and much ingenuity has been employed
quadruped. t0 establish the latter opinion. Rut it is presumed
’ that few of their readers have been made converts to
such an opinion, and that not many of ours will require
much argument to persuade them of their erect desti¬
nation. It may therefore suffice to observe, that this
erect position is best adapted to the conformation of
the human head, and the ponderous quantity of hu¬
man brains:—that the articulation of the os occipitis
with the first vertebra of the neck, is differently con¬
structed from that of quadrupeds, with the obvious de¬
sign that man should be able to move his head in every
direction with the greatest facility:—that the human
species (and also monkeys) are destitute of that strong
ligament or tendinous aponeurosis, vulgarly called pax-
wax, which quadrupeds possess (as a kind of stay-
tape)., to prevent the head from sinking to the earth 5
to which, from its natural position, it must be very
prone:—and that our eyes and ears are, fortunately,
not
structure of the inferior animals, we shall in this article make use of others, with which we have been favoured
by Dr Barclay, the ingenious lecturer on anatomy, to whose publication on anatomical nomenclature we refer
the reader for their explanation.
2
"hap. IV.
ANA
Of Qaa-
; ilrupeds.
163
:uticula,
iitis, pan-
iculus car
IJSUS.
not placed as those of the quadrupeds. The axis of
the human eye is nearly perpendicular with a vertical
' section of the head ; whereas, in the brute creation
(the larger ape excepted), the position of the eyes
forms an acute angle :—nature has also furnished other
animals with a suspensorium oculi, a muscle which the
erect attitude renders needless, though highly necessary
in the prone; consequently, whoever tries the experi¬
ment will find that, in the inclined direction, both his
eyes and his ears are in the most unfavourable situation
possible for quick hearing or extensive vision. In fine,
the shape, breadth, strength of the vertebrse of the
back and loins, are all coincident with the erect atti¬
tude of the trunk.
All quadrupeds have a covering of hair, wool, &c.
to defend them from the injuries of the weather, which
varies in thickness according to the season of the year
and difference of the climate $ thus in Russia and the
northern countries, the furs are very thick and warm,
while the little Spanish lap-dogs, and Barbary cows,
have little or no hair at all.
The cutis and cuticula in quadrupeds are disposed
much in the same way as the human, only more elas-
• tic; immediately under this, there is a very thin cu¬
taneous muscular substance caWthpanniculus carnosus,
which is common to all quadrupeds, the porcine kind
excepted $ this principally covers the trunk, serving
T O M Y. 285
to shrivel the skin, in order to drive off insects, their Of Qua-
tails and heads not being sufficient for this purpose, drupeds. .
while their extremities are employed in their supportv—“■'v-—-'
and progression. 164
It has probably been from observing some muscles of Whence
the human body, such as the platysma myoides, cre" ^
master, and frontales, and the collapsed tunica cellulosa ®
of emaciated subjects, to resemble this thin muscle, that nosHS &c,
some of the oldest anatomists reckoned such a pannicu-
lus among the common teguments of the human body.
This Carolus Stephanus has well observed. ,<5-
Most part of quadrupeds want clavicles, whereby Why most
their atlantal extremities fall upon their chest, so as quadrupeds
to make their thorax proportionally narrower than thev™j^c!a*
human. This small distance of their atlantal extre¬
mities is very necessary for their uniform progression :
apes indeed and squirrels have clavicles to allow them
a more full use of their extremities in climbing ; but
when they walk on all-fours, they move but indiffer¬
ently.
Their head is connected to the first vertebra of the
neck by two eminences as in man. The vertebrae of
the neck are never less than six, or more than nine.
The number of the dorsal and other- vertebrae differs
considerably in the various individuals. The follow¬
ing table exhibits these differences in each species.
The brain of these animals is more complicated than
that of the other classes.
TABLE of the Proportional Number of Spinal VertebrjE in various species of
Mammalia.
Species.
Dorsal
Vertebree.
Lumbar
Vertebra.
Sacral
Vertebra.
Coccygian
Vertebra.
Man, - - -
Simla satyrusy Lin. Orang-outang,
——. troglodytes. Jocko,
 lar. Gibbon,
- paniscus. Coai’ta,
   capucina. Weeping monkey, sai,
—— rosalia. Silky money, marakina,
■  —■ patas. Patas,
 — Maimon, rib-nosed ape,
■  cynomolgus. Macaca,
—— chinensis. Chinese monkey,
—— sphinx. Baboon, papion, - '
—— inuus. Magot,
—— maimon. Mandrill,
— ,. pongo. Pongo, -
 beel%ebul. Alosti, howling baboon,
Lemur catta. Macauco,
——- gracilis. Lori,
 - tarsius. Tarsier,
Vespertilio vampyrus. Rousette, vampyre bat,
—  murinus. Common bat,
  noctula. Noctule, great bat,
—  - Jerrum equinum. Horse-shoe bat,
12
12
13
14
14
14
12
12
12
12
11
12
12
12
12
14
12
15
J4
12
11
12
12
4
4
5
o
32
25
26
16-f-
13
5
20
31
3
13
4
25
18
9
17 +
o
12
6 "
12
TABLE,
anatomy.
286
Of Qua¬
drupeds.
TABLE, &c. continued.
Part II.
Of Qua.
drupedj.
Specifs.
Dorsal
Vertebrae.
Lumbar
Vertebrae.
Sacral
Vertebrae.
Coccygian
Vertebrae.
Lemur volans. Flying lemur, - - -
Erinaceus europceus. Hedgehog,
...  ecaudatus, Tanrec, - - -
Sorex, mus araneus. Musetta, shrew,
Talpa europcea. Mole, - -
Ursus maritimus. White bear,
 arctos. Brown bear. ...
—— males. Badger, - -
 gulo. Glutton, - ...
Viverra. Coati, -
Ur. lotor. Racoon, - -
Mustela lutra. Otter, ....
 martes. Marten, - - -
• vulgaris. Weasel, - - - -
Viverra civetta. Civet, - - -
Felis leo. Lion, - ...
 tigris. Tiger, ....
 pardus. Panther, - -
 concolar. Couguar, ...
—— catus. Cat, ....
Cam's familiaris. Wolf-dog, ...
 lupus. Wrolf, - - - -
 vulpes. Fox, -
—— hyaena. Hyaena, ...
Didelphis cancriphaga. Cayenne opossum, crab-eater,
■ ■ — murina. Marmose,
—— ' ■■■ ' orientalis. Phalarger,
Histrix cidstata. Porcupine, ...
Lepus timidus. Hare, ...
— ■ ■ cuniculus. Rabbit, ....
Cavia capybara. Cabae, - - -
—   cobaya. Guinea pig, ....
—    paca. Paca, or spotted cavy,
—— aguti. Agouti, ...
Castor fiber. Beaver, - - - . .
Sciurus volans. Flying squirrel, ...
Mus marmotta. Marmotte, ....
1 arvalis. Field mouse, ....
——- amphibius. Water rat, -
 rattus. Black rat, -
 decumanus. Norway rat, - - -
 musculus. Common mouse, - . _
" sylvaticus. Field or harvest rat,
 cricetus. Hamster, - * -
 glis. Fat dormouse, - - _
»■— quercinus. Garden dormouse, - - .
Myrmecophaga didaclyla. Ant-eater,
Manis pentadactyla. Pangolin, - - _
*  tetradactyla. Long-tailed manis,
Dasypus. Armadillo, -
Bradypus didactylus. Two toed sloth,
Elephas indicus. Elephant, - - .
Sus scrofa. Hog, -
12
*5
15
12
*3
14
16
14
14
14
14
13
J3
r3
l3
J3
!3
I3
13
13
16
r3
*3
13
14
12
12
13
13
13
12
*S
12
13
J3
13
13
13
12
12
!3
*3
!3
16
J5
J3
11
23
20
!4
6
7
6
7
6
6
6
5
5
6
7
6
6
6
6
6
7
7
7
7
6
7
7
4
6
6
6
5
7
7
6
6
6
8
5
8
7
7
7
9
7
7
7
6
7
7
2
5
5
4
2
3
5
4
3 '
3
7
7
5
3
3
1
3
3
3
3
3
3
4
3
3
3
3
3
3
2
5
1
1
4
4
2
2
4
5
4
3
3
6
3
4
3
4
4
3
4
2
4
4
3
2
3
4
4
3
22
12
8
I?
11
11
4+
16
18
10-f-
20
21
18
14
20
23
J9
24
22
22
22
*9
20
8-f-
16-f
29
30
8 +
20
20
4+
6
7
7
23
*3
22
JS
23
26
23
24
23
1 s
18
24
40
28
45
3°
7 +
*4
4
table,
ANATOM Y.
hap. IV.
3f Qua-
irupeds.
TABLE, kc. continued.
287
Of Qua¬
druped?.
Dorsal
Vertcbrce.
20
!9
12
12
*3
*3
13
J3
!3
!3
L3
18
18
15
13
13
Lumbar
Vertebrce.
}
4
3
7
7
6
5
6
5
5
6
6
6
6
6
.5
in all
66
Sacral
Vertcbrce.
Coccygian
Vertebrce.
12
22
17
18
11
18
15
11
7t
12
16
16
J7
18
12
Species.
Tapirus. Tapir,
Rhinoceros, -
Ca?nelas bactrianus. Camel,
 — dromedarius. Dromedary,
Cervus elaphus. Stag; -
Camelo-pardalis. Camelopard, -
Antelope cervieapra. Antelope, -
———- dorcas. Gazelle,
 — rupicapra. Chamois goat,
Capra hircus. Goat,
0 vis aries. Sheep,
Bos taurus. Ox,
Equus caballus. Horse,
    quagga. Couaga,
Phoca vituhna. Seal,
Delphinus delphis. Dolphin,
 phoccena. Porpoise, -
Their eyes have only two lids, and they agree with
man in having the internal ear furnished with four little
bones articulated with each other, and a completely
spiral cochlea, and a tongue entirely soft and fleshy.
Their heart, lungs, and diaphragm resemble those ol
man in their general structure; and differ only in a
few circumstances, which will be best seen in the ex¬
emplification of their structure, which is presently to be
given.
In treating of quadrupeds we shall divide them into
the carnivorous, or rather those which feed indifferent-
ly on flesh and vegetables, and the granivorous. The
structure qf the former we shall exemplify in the dog,
that of the latter in the cow.
Sect. II. The Anatomy of a Dog.
We may first observe of this animal, as of most
quadrupeds, tfiat its legs are much shorter in proportion
to its trunk than in man, the length of whose steps de¬
pends entirely on the length of his sacral extremities ;
however, to balance this, the trunk of the animal is
proportionally longer and smaller, his spine more flex¬
ible, by which he is able at each step to bring his sacral
nearer to his atlantal extremities. His common tegu¬
ments are much a-kin to those ol other quadrupeds, on¬
ly they allow little or no passage for sweat; but when
he is over-heated, the superfluous matter finds an exist
by the salivary glands, for he lolls out his tongue and
slavers plentifully. We are not, however, to suppose,
that because a dog does not sweat, he has no insensible
perspiration. That a dog perspires is evident, because
one of these animals can trace another by the scent of
his footsteps ; which could not happen if a large
quantity of perspirable matter was not constantly going
ofiV.
The pyramidal muscles are wanting, to supply which
the rectus is inserted fleshy into the os pubis. l66
The brain is proportionally much smaller than the Brain,
human ; but as in man, it is divided into cerebrum and
cerebellum, and these two parts bear nearly the same
proportion to one another as in us. There was no such
occasion for so great a quantity of brain in these ani¬
mals as in man ; seeing that in them all its energy is
employed in their progression, while man has a great
waste of spirits in the exercise of his reason and intel¬
lectual faculties. And besides all this, a bulky brain
would be inconvenient to these creatures, in so lar as
it would add considerably to the weight of the head ;
which having the advantage of a long lever to act with,
would require a much greater force to support it than
it does now ; for the heads of the greatest part of qua¬
drupeds are not near so heavy as they would at first
sight seem to be, from the frontal sinuses being produ¬
ced a great way upwards to enlarge the organ of smel-
ling.
The pits in the anterior part of their skull are much
more conspicuous than in the human ; which may be
occasioned by the depending posture of these creatures
heads while they gather their food : he brain at this
time gravitating much on the bones while they are as
yet soft, will gradually make impressions upon them at
those places where it rises into eminences. Ibis is
prevented in man mostly by his erect posture. . l6.
The falx is not near so large in quadrupeds as in man, fa]x.
as they have little occasion to lie on either side, and the
two hemispheres of the brain are in- a great measure
hindered from justling against one another in violent
motions, by the brain’s insinuating itself into the abo\e-
mentioned pits.
The second process of the dura mater, or tentorium
cersbello super-expansum, is considerably thicker and
2 stronger,
288
ANA
Of Qua- stronger than In man. This membrane is generally os-
drupeds. sified, or we find the place of it supplied by a bone, that
'11 v' it may the more effectually keep oif the superincumbent
brain from the cerebellum in rapid motions, which other-
i6S 'vise would be of bad consequence.
Processus The olfactory nerves are very large, and justly de-
Mtatnillaris. serve the name of processtts mamillaris. They are hol¬
low, and consist of a medullary and cineritious sub¬
stance, and at first sight appear to be the frontal ven¬
tricles of the brain produced; but in man they are
small, and without any discernible cavity. The reason
of this is pretty evident, if we consider how this animal’s
head is situated j for the lymph continually gravitating
upon the inferior part of the ventricles, may thus elon¬
gate and produce them j but from this very inferior
part the olfactory nerves rise, and are sent immediately
through the ethmoid bone into the nose. Hence the
ancients, thinking they were continued hollow into the
nose, believed they were the emunctories of the brain :
in the brain of sheep, which by its firm texture is the
best subject of any for searching into the structure of
this part, we evidently see, that the name of the sigmoid
cavity was very properly applied by the ancients to the
lateral ventricles of the brain ; which are really of a
greater extent than they are ordinarily painted by ana¬
tomists, reaching farther backwards, and forwards again
under the substance of the brain. The cortical and me¬
dullary parts, as well as the corpus callosum, are similar
169 to those parts in man.
ISates, Phe nates and testes deserve this name much better
here than in the human body, with respect to each
other. They are larger in the quadrupeds $ and hence
we perceive that there is no great reason for ascribing
the different operations to any particular size or shape
of these parts. 1 hey are here also of different colours j
the nates being of the colour of the cortical, and the
testes of the medullary substance of the brain ; where¬
as in man they are both of one colour. The reason
of these differences, and others of the like nature to be
met with, we shall not pretend to determine j for we
have hitherto such an imperfect knowledge of the
brain itself, that we are entirely ignorant of the va¬
rious uses of its different parts. \Ve may in general
conclude, that the varying in one animal from what it
is in another, is fitted to the creature’s particular way
170 of living. J
Retemira- The rete mirabile Galeni, situated on each side of the
sella turcica, about which there has been so much dis¬
pute, is very remarkable in these animals. This net¬
work of vessels is nothing else than a continuation of
the internal carotid arteries, which entering the skull,
divide into a vast number of minute branches running
along the side of the sella turcica j and, uniting after¬
wards, are spent on the brain in the common way. Ga¬
len seems with justice to suppose, that this plexus of ves¬
sels serves for checking the impetuosity of the blood
l^t destined for the brain.
Tongue. # The tongue, in consequence of the length of the
jaws, is much longer than ours ; and as this creature
feeds with his head in a depending posture, the bolus
would always be in danger of falling out of the mouth,
were it not for several prominences or papilla; placed
mostly, at the root of the tongue, and crooked back¬
wards in such a manner as to allow any thing to pass
easily down to the jaws, but to hinder its return. By
17*
TOM Y. pal t I]
the papilla; also the surface of the tongue is increased, Of Qua.
and a stronger impression is made on the sensation of daipeds.l
taste. In some animals who feed on living creatures, -v—
these tenter-hooks are still more conspicuous j as in se¬
veral large fishes, where they are almost as large as
their teeth in the fore part of their mouth, and near as
firm and strong. j
The nose is generally longer than in man, and its ex- Nose
ternal passage much narrower. The internal structure
is also better adapted for an acute smelling, having a
larger convoluted surface on which the membrana schnei-
deriana is spread; and this is to be observed in most
quadrupeds, who have the ossa spongiosa commonly
large, and these too divided into a great number of
excessively fine thin lamellae. The sensibility seems to
be increased in proportion to the surface; and this will
also be found to take place in all the other senses. The
elephant, which has a head pretty large in proportion
to its body, has the greatest part of it taken up with
the cavity of the nose and frontal sinuses; which last
extend almost over their whole head, and leave but a '
small cavity for their brains. A very nice sense of
smelling was not so absolutely necessary for man, who
has judgment and experience to direct him in the choice
of his food j whereas brutes, who have only their senses,
must of necessity have these acute, some having one
sense in greater perfection than others, according to their
different way of life. We not only conclude a priori
from the large expanded membrana schneideriana, that
their sense of smelling is very acute, but we find it so
by cows and horses distinguishing so readily betwixt
noxious and wholesome herbs, which they do principal¬
ly by this sense. ,
The external ear in different quadrupeds is differ- ^ar*
ently framed, but always calculated for the creature’s
manner of life. In shape it commonly resembles the
oblique section of a cone from near the apex to the
basis. Hares, and such other animals as are daily ex¬
posed to insults from beasts of prey, have large ears di¬
rected backwards, their eyes warning them of any dan¬
ger before $ rapacious animals, on the other hand, have
their ears placed directly forwards, as we see in the
lion, cat, &c. The slow hounds, and other animals
that are designed to hear most distinctly the sounds
coming from below, have their ears hanging down¬
wards; or their ears are flexible, because they move
their head for the most part with greater difficulty than
man. Man, again, who must equally hear sounds co¬
ming from all quarters, but especially such as are sent
from about his own height, has his external ear placed
in a vertical manner, somewhat turned forward. In
short, wherever we see a specialty in the make of this
organ in any creature, we shall, with very little reflec¬
tion, discover this form to be more convenient for that
creature than another. The animal also has the power
of directing the cone of the ear to the sonorous body
without moving the head. There are some differences
to be observed in the structure of the internal ear in
different animals ; but we know so very little of the use
of the particular parts of that organ in the human sub¬
ject, that it is altogether impossible to assign reasons for
these variations in other creatures.
All quadrupeds have at the internal canthus of the ^
eye a strong firm membrane with a cartilaginous edge, JicST
which may be made to cover some part of their eye $
and
*73
hap. IV.
ANATOMY.
)f Qua-
li-upeds.
I7S
USClllllS
penso-
176
pill a.
J77
ipelura.
and this is greater or less in different animals as their
eyes are more or less exposed to danger, in searching
J after their food. This memhrana nic,titans, as it is
called, is not very large in this animal. Cows and
horses have it so large as to cover one half of the eye
like a curtain, and at the same time it is sufficiently
transparent to allow abundance of the rays of light to
pass through it. Fishes have a cuticle always over
their eyes, as they are ever in danger in that inconstant
element. In this then we may also observe a sort of
gradation.
All quadrupeds have a seventh muscle belonging
to the eye, called suspfnsorius. It surrounds almost
the whole optic nerve, and is fixed into the sclerotic
coat as the others are. Its use is, to sustain the
weight of the globe of the eye, and prevent the optic
nerve from being too much stretched, without obliging
the four straight muscles to be in a continual contrac¬
tion, which would be inconvenient 5 at the same time
this muscle may be brought to assist any of the other
four, by causing one particular portion of it to act at
a time.
The next thing to be remarked is the figure of the
'pupil, which is different in different animals, but always
exactly accommodated to the creature’s way of life, as
well as to the difi’erent species of objects that are view¬
ed. Man has it circular, for obvious reasons : an ox
has it oval, with the longest diameter placed transverse¬
ly, to take in a larger view of his food j cats, again,
have theirs likewise oval, but the longest diameter
placed perpendicularly; they can either exclude a
bright light altogether, or admit only as much as is
necessary. The pupil of different animals varies in
wideness, according as the internal organs of vision
are more or less acute : Thus cats and owls, who seek
their prey in the night, or in dark places (and conse¬
quently must have their eyes so formed as that a few
rays of light may make a lively impression on the re¬
tina), have their pupils in the day-time contracted in¬
to a very narrow space, as a great number of rays
would oppress their nice organs j while in the night,
or where the light is faint, they open the pupil, and
very fully admit the rays. In the same way, when the
retina is inflamed, a great number of rays of light
would occasion a painful sensation j therefore the pupil
is contracted: on the contrary, in dying people, or in
a beginning amaurosis, it is generally dilated, as the
eyes on such occasions are very difficultly affected, and
as it were insensible.
The posterior part of the choroid coat, which is
called tapetam, is of different colours in different crea¬
tures. For oxen, feeding mostly on grass, have this
membrane of a green colour, that it may reflect upon
the retina all the rays of light which come from objects
of that colour, while other rays are absorbed : Thus
the animal sees its food better than it does other ob¬
jects. Cats and owls have their tapetum of a whitish
colour; and for the same reasons have the pupil very
dilatable, and their organs of vision acute : And we
shall find, that all animals see more or less distinctly in
the dark, according as their tapetum approaches near¬
er to a white or black colour. Thus dogs, who have
it of a grayish colour, distinguish objects better in the
night than man, whose tapetum is dark brown $ and
who, it is believed, sees worst in the dark of any crea-
Vol. II. Part I. f
289
Of Qua¬
drupeds.
178
179
180
ture : it being originally designed that he should rest
from all kinds of employment in the night-time. The
difference then of the colour of the tapetum, as indeed
the fabric of any other part in different creatures, al¬
ways depends on some particular advantage accruing
to the animal in its peculiar manner of life from this
singularity.
We look on it as a general rule, that all quadrupeds, Neck,
as having occasion to gather their food from the ground,
are provided with longer necks than man ; but as a
long neck not only gives the advantage of too long a
lever to the weight of the head, but also, when the ani¬
mal is gathering his food, makes the brain in danger
of being oppressed with too great a quantity of blood,
by the liquor in the arteries having the advantage of
a descent, while that in the veins must remount a con¬
siderable way contrary to its own gravity $ it was
therefore necessary that a part of the length of the neck
should be supplied by the length of the jaws. Thus we Jaws,
see horses, cows, &c. who have no occasion for open¬
ing their mouths very wide, yet have long jaws. Bull¬
dogs, indeed, and such animals as have occasion for
very strong jaws, must of necessity have them short;
because the longer they are, the resistance to be over¬
come acts with a longer lever. Another exception to
this general rule, is such animals as are furnished with
something analogous to hands to convey their food to
their mouths, as cats, apes, &c. The teeth of this Teeth.”
creature plainly show it to be of the carnivorous kind;
for there are none of them made for grinding its
food, but only for tearing and dividing it. It has six
remarkably sharp teeth before, and two very long tusks
behind; both of which the ruminating animals want.
These are evidently calculated for laying very firm
hold of substances, and tearing them to pieces ; and
the vast strength of the muscles inserted into the lower
jaw, assists greatly in this action; while the grinders
have sharp cutting edges, calculated for cutting flesh,
and breaking the hardest bones. Even its posterior
teeth are not formed with rough broad surfaces as
ours are ; but are made considerably sharper, and press
over one another when the mouth is shut, that so
they may take the firmer hold of whatever comes be¬
twixt them. iSi
When we open the mouth, we see the amygdalae Amygdals.
very prominent in the posterior part of it; so that it
would appear at first view, that these were inconve¬
niently placed, as being continually exposed to injuries
from the hard substances this creature swallows ; but
upon a more narrow scrutiny, we find this provided
for by two membranous capsules, into which the amyg¬
dalae, when pressed, can escape, and remove themselves
from such injuries. ig^
The velum pendulum palati is in this creature consi-Velum pea-
derably longer than in man, to prevent the food from dulum pa-
getting into his nose ; which would happen more fre-^at*•
quently in this animal than in man, because of its situa¬
tion while feeding. ig^
In this subject, as well as in other quadrupeds, there Glottis,
is no uvula ; but then the epiglottis, when pressed down, 184
covers the whole rima entirely, and naturally continues ^P*S*ott‘**
so : there is therefore a ligament, or rather muscle,
that comes from the os hyoides and root of the tongue
that is inserted into that part of the epiglottis where it
is articulated with the cricoid cartilage, which serves
O 0 to
290 ^
Of Qua¬
drupeds.
is7"~
The use of
the uvula.
ANATOMY.
Part I]
186
Gullet.
187
Omeiunm.
1S8
Stomach.
to raise it from the rima, though not so strongly
but that it may with a small force be clapped down
again.
It may be asked, however, Why the uvula is want¬
ing here, and not in man ? This seems to be, that
quadrupeds, who swallow their food in a horizon¬
tal situation, have no occasion for an uvula, though
it is necessary in man on account of his erect situa¬
tion.
In the upper part of the pharynx, behind the cricoid
cartilage, there is a pretty large gland to be found,
which serves not only for the separation of a mucous
liquor to lubricate the bolus as it passes this way, but
also supplies the place of a valve, to hinder the food
from regurgitating into the mouth, which it would be
apt to do by reason of the descending situation of the
creature’s head. In man, the muscle of the epiglottis
is wanting, its place being supplied by the elasticity of
the cartilage.
The gullet is formed very much in the same way as
the human. Authors indeed generally allege, that
quadrupeds have their gullet composed of a double row
of spiral figures decussating one another 5 but this is
peculiar to ruminating animals, who have occasion for
such a decussation of fibres. The action of these you
may easily observe in a cow chewing her cud.
The omentum reaches down to the os pubis, which,
considering the posture of the animal, we shall find to
be a wise provision, since its use is to separate an oily
liquor for lubricating the guts and facilitating their
peristaltic motion j so in our erect posture the natural
gravity of the oil will determine it downward, but in
the horizontal position of these creatures, if all the in¬
testines were not covered, there would be no favour¬
able derivation of the fluid to the guts lying in the sa¬
cral part of the abdomen, which is the highest 5 and
besides, had the omentum reached much farther down
in us, it would not only have supplied too great a quan¬
tity of oil to the lower part of the abdomen, but we
should have been in continual danger of hernise; and
even at present the omentum frequently passes down
with some of the other viscera, and forms part of
these tumours. To these, however, the dog is not
subject, as his viscera do not press so much on the rings
of the abdominal muscles, and besides are prevented
from passing through by a pendulous flap of fat men¬
tioned N° 35. The sacral and sternal lamella of the
omentum is fixed to the spleen, fundus of the stomach,
pylorus, liver, &c. in the same way as the human; but
the superior having no colon to pass over, goes directly
to the back-bone. This serves to explain the forma¬
tion of the small omentum in the human body •, which
is nothing but the large omentum, having lost its fat,
passing over the stomach and colon, where it reassumes
its fat, so proceeds, and is firmly attached to the liver,
spine, &c. The striae of fat are pretty regularly dis¬
posed through it, accompanying the distribution of the
blood-vessels to guard them from the pressure of the
superincumbent viscera.
This animal’s stomach, though pretty much resem¬
bling the human in its shape, is somewhat differently
situated. It lies more longitudinal, as indeed all the
other viscera do, to accommodate themselves to the
shape of the cavity in which they are contained 5 that
is, its sacral orifice is much farther down with respect
to the atlantal than the human : by this means the gross Qf qHa.
food has an easier passage into the duodenum. Again, drupeds.
the fundus of the human stomach, when distended,-v—~
stands almost directly sternal, which is occasioned by
the little omentum tying it so close down to the back
bone, &c. at its two orifices ; but it not being fixed in
that manner in the dog, the fundus remains always dor¬
sal : this also answers very well the shape of the differ¬
ent cavities, the distance betwixt the cardia and fundus
being greater than that betwixt the two sides. It seems
to be much larger in proportion to the bulk of the ani¬
mal than the human, that it might contain a greater
quantity of food at once 5 which wTas very necessary,
since this animal cannot at any time get its sustenance
as men do. The turbillion is not so large, nor is there
any coarction forming the antrum Willesii, as in the
stomach of man. It is considerably thicker and more
muscular than ours, for breaking the cohesion of their
food, which they swallow without sufficient chewing.
Hence it is evident the force of the stomach is not so
great as some would have it, nor its contraction so vio¬
lent : otherwise that of dogs would be undoubtedly
wounded by the sharp bones, &c. they always take
down ; for the contraction here is still greater than in
the human stomach, which is much thinner. The rugae
of the tunica villosa are neither so large, nor situated
transversely, as in the human, but go from one orifice
to the other : the reason of which difference is, per¬
haps, that they might be in less danger of being hurt by
the hard substances this creature frequently feeds upon j
and for the same reason there is not the like stricture at
their pylorus. rg9
The intestines of this animal are proportionally much intestine
shorter than ours j for the food which these creatures
mostly use, soon dissolves, and then putrefies 5 on which
account there wras no occasion for a long tract of in¬
testines, but on the contrary that it should be quickly
thrown out of the body. The same is to be obser¬
ved of all the carnivorous animals. The muscular coat
of the intestines is also thicker and stronger than the
human, to protrude the contents quickly and accu¬
rately.
The valvulae conniventes are less numerous, and in a
longitudinal direction j and the whole tract of the ali¬
mentary canal is covered with a slime, which lubricates
the intestines, saves them from the acrimony of the ex-
crementitious part, and facilitates its passage.
The duodenum differs considerably in its situation Duo<km
from the human. For in man it first mounts from the
pylorus upwards, backwards, and to the right side j
then passes down by the gall bladder j and, marching
over the right kidney and superior part of the psoas
muscles, makes a curvature upwards; and passes over
the back bone and vena cava inferior, to the left hypo-
chondrium, where it gets through the omentum, me¬
sentery, and mesocolon, to commence the jejunum, be-jeju^,
ing firmly tied down all the way, the biliary and pan¬
creatic ducts entering in at its most depending part:
Whereas, in the dog, the duodenum is fixed at the py¬
lorus to the concave surface of the liver, and hangs
loose and pendulous with the mesentery backwards in¬
to the cavity of the abdomen ; then turning up again,
is fixed to the back bone, where it ends in the jejunum j
the bile and pancreatic juice are poured into it at the
most depending part. Therefore the same intention
seems
IJhap. IV,
'jf Qua- seems to have been had in view in the formation of this
jrupeds. part in both, viz. the giving the chyle, after the liquors
—Y"-J of the liver and pancreas are poured into it, a disadvan¬
tageous course, so that it might be the more intimately
blended with the humours before its entry into the je¬
junum, where the lacteals are very numerous: And
thus, by reason of their different posture, the same de¬
sign (though by a very different order of the parts) is
ioj brought about in both.
Iitestina The other small guts are much the same with ours,
| uiuia. only shorter. The great guts are also shorter and less
capacious than in the human body ; and we take it for
a general rule, that all animals that live on vegetable
food, have not only their small guts considerably long¬
er, but also their great guts more capacious, than such
creatures as feed on other animals. Hence man, from
this form of his intestines, and that of the teeth, seems
to have been originally designed for feeding on vege¬
tables chiefly ; and still the most of his food, and all his
drink, is of that class.
The reason of this difference seems to be, that as
animal food is not only much more easily reduced in¬
to chyle, but also more prone to putrefaction, too long
a delay of the juices might occasion the worst conse¬
quences. So it was necessary that their receptacles
should not be too capacious*, but, on the contrary, be¬
ing short and narrow, might conduce to the seasonable
discharge of their contents. Whereas vegetable food
being more difficultly dissolved and conveited into an
animal nature, there was a necessity for such cieatures
as fed on it to be provided with a long intestinal canal,
that this food in its passage might be considerably re¬
tarded, and have time to change its quality into one
more agreeable to our nature. Besides which there is
another advantage which accrues to man in particular,
from having his great guts very capacious: for as he
is a rational being, and mostly employed in the func¬
tions of social life, it would have been very inconve¬
nient as well as unbecoming for him to be too fre¬
quently employed in such ignoble exercises *, .so that,
having this large reservoir lor his feces alvinae, he
can retain them for a considerable time without any
193 trouble. t .
appendix The appendix vermifonnts enough deserves the
rermifor- name 0f an intestinum cceeum in this subject, though in
the human body it does not *, and it has piobably b-en
from the largeness of this part in this and some other
animals, that the oldest anatomists came to reckon that
small appendicle in man as one of the great guts. On
its internal surface we observe a great number of mu¬
cous glands. As all these throw out slime, their prin¬
cipal office would seem to be the procuring a sufficient
quantity of that matter for the purposes above men¬
tioned. Still, however, there seems to be some un¬
known use for this organ in other animals ; for the ap-
peudicula vermiformis in them is either of great size or
of great length. In a rat, it is rather larger than the
stomach 5 in others, as swine, and some of the animals
which live on vegetables, it has long convolutions, so that
the food must be lodged in it for a long time. Thus,
probably, some change takes place in the food, which
requires a considerable time to effectuate, and though
unknown to us, may answer very useful purposes to the
animal.
The colo?2 has no longitudinal ligaments *, and conse-
29I
quently this gut is not pursed up into different bags or 0f Qua-
cells as the human : nor does this intestine make any druped-.
circular turn round the abdomen ; but passes directly ‘■""■"v—
across it to the top of the os sacrum, where it gets the £0j0a ‘
wame oi rectum. 195
At the extremity of the intestinum rectum, ov verge of Rectum,
the anus, there are found twm bags or pouches, which
contain a most abominable fetid mucus of a yellow co¬
lour, for which we know no use, unless it serves to lu¬
bricate the strained extremity of the rectum, and defend
it against the asperity of the feces, or to separate some
liquor that might otherwise prove hurtful to their bodies.
There is nothing analogous to those sacs in the human
subject, unless we reckon the mucilaginous glands that
are found most frequent and largest about the lowrer
part of the rectum. _ I9<J
The mesentery is considerably longer than in the hu-Mesentery,
man body j that, in his horizontal situation, the inte¬
stines may rest securely on the soft cushion of the ab¬
dominal muscles. The fat is here disposed in the same
way, and for the same reason, as in the omentum.
The interstices betwixt the fat are filled with a fine
membrane. Instead of a great number of glandufe
vagse to be found in the human mesentery, we find
the glands few in number, and those are closely con¬
nected together; or there is only one large gland to
be observed in the middle of the mesentery of a dog,
which, from its imagined resemblance to the pancreas
and the name of his discoverer, is called pancreas Asel- Pancreas
In; but the resemblance, if there is any, depends Asellii.
chiefly on the connexion, the structure being entire¬
ly different. The reason why this in man is as it were
subdivided into many smaller ones, may possibly be,
that as the guts of a human body are proportionally
much longer than those of this creature, it would have
been inconvenient to have gathered all the lactea pnmi-
generis into one place j whereas, by collecting a few
of these vessels into a neighbouring gland, the same
effect is procured much more easily. Whether the
food in this animal needs less preparation in its passage
through these glands, is a matter very much unknown
to us ; though it is certain that some changes really do
take place. . . *98
The pancreas in man lies across the abdomen, tied Pancreas,
down by the peritonaeum 3 but the capacity of this
creature’s abdomen not allowing of that situation, it is
disposed more longitudinally, being tied to the duo¬
denum, which it accompanies for some way. Its duct
enters the duodenum about an inch and a half below
the ductus communis. *99
The spleen of this animal differs from the human Spleen,
very much, both in figure and situation. It is much
more oblong and thin, and lies more according to the
length of the abdomen, like the pancreas. Though
the spleen of this creature is not firmly tied to the dia¬
phragm (which was necessary in our erect posture to ^
hinder it from falling downwards), yet by the animal’s
prone position, its dorsal parts being rather higher
than the sternal, it comes to be always contiguous
to this muscle, and is as effectually subjected to
an alternate pressure from its action as the human
spleen is. . 200
The human liver has no fissures or divisions, unless ive..
we may reckon that small one betwixt the two pylec,
where the large vessels enter: Whereas in a dog, and
O 0 a a11
ANATOMY,
292
ANATOMY.
Part II.
Of Qua- all other creatures that have a large flexion in their
tJrupeds. spine, as lions, leopards, cats, &c. the liver and lungs
v are divided into a great many lobes by deep sections,
reaching the large blood-vessels, which in great motions
ot the back bone may easily slide over one another j
and so be in much less danger of being torn or bruis¬
ed, than if they were formed of one entire piece, as
we really see it is in horses, cows, and such creatures
as have their back bone stiff and immoveable. There
is here no ligumentum latum connecting the liver to the
diaphragm, which, in our situation, was necessary to
keep the viscus in its place : Whereas, in this creature,
it naturally gravitates forwards, and by the horizontal
position ot the animal is in no danger of pressing against
the vena cava ; the preventing of which is one use ge¬
nerally assigned to this ligament in man. Had the
liver ol the dog been thus connected to the diaphragm,
the respiration must necessarily have suffered ; for, as
we shall see afterwards, this muscle is here moveable at
the centre as well as at the sides : But in man the liver
is fixed to the diaphragm, mostly at its tendinous part;
that is, where the pericardium is fixed to it on the other
side ; so that it is in no danger of impeding the respira¬
tion, being suspended by the mediastinum and bones of
the thorax. In consequence of this viscus being divided
into so many lobes, it follows, that the hepatic ducts
cannot possibly join into one common trunk till they
are quite out of the substance of the liver 5 because a
branch comes out from every lobe of the liver ; all of
which, by their union, form the hepatic duct: whence
we are led to conclude, that the hepatico-cystic ducts,
mentioned by former authors, do not exist/ The gall¬
bladder itself is wanting in several animals, such as the
deer, the horse, the ass, &c.; but, in place of it, in
such animals, the hepatic duct, at its beginning, is
widened into a reservoir of considerable size, which may
answer the same purpose in them that the gall-bladder
20i does in others.
Mediasti- The mediastinum in this creature is pretty broad.
nun., 'fhg pericardium is not here contiguous to the dia¬
phragm, but there is an inch of distance betwixt them,
in which place the small lobe of the lungs lodges 5 and
by this means the liver, &c. of this animal, though
continually pressing upon the diaphragm, yet cannot
»02 disturb the heart’s motion.
Heart. I he heart is situated with its point almost directly
sternally, according to the creature’s posture, and is but
very little inclined to the left side. Its point is much
*°3 5"arf>er? and its shape more conoidal, than the human.
Vena cava. The animal has the vena cava of a considerable length
within the thorax, having near the whole length of the
heart to run over ere it gets at the sinus Lowerianus dex¬
ter. In man,, as soon as it pierces the diaphragm, it
enters the pericardium, which is firmly attached to it,
and immediately gets into the sinus Lowerianus ; which
sinus, in the human subject, by the oblique situation of
the heart is almost contiguous to the diaphragm : and
by this we discover, that several authors have taken
their delineations of the human heart from brutes-
which is easily detected by the shape and situation of
the heart, and long vena cava, within the thorax. This
was one of the faults of the curious wax work that was
shown at London and Paris, which was plainly taken
from a cow.
This situation of the heart of the creature agrees best 0f 0
with the shape of its thorax, which is lower than the dmpedt
abdomen. 1 'j
The egress of the large blood-vessels from the heart 204
is somewhat different from the human: For here the Ae°/a as‘
right subclavian comes off first: and as a large trunk^,.0^
runs some way upwards before it gives off the left ca-so called/
rotid, and splits into the carotid and subclavian of the
right side, then the left subclavian is sent off. So that
neither here, properly speaking, is there an aorta as-
cendens, more than in the human j but this name has
probably been imposed upon it from observing this in
a cow, where indeed there is an ascending and descend¬
ing aorta.
From this specialty of the distribution of the vessels
of the right side, which happens, though not in so great
a degree, in the human subject, we may perhaps in some
measure account for the general greater strength, readi¬
ness, or facility of motion, which is observable in the
right arm. Upon measuring the sides of the vessels, the a meduw
surface of the united trunk of the right subclavian andnicalac-
carotid is less than that of the left subclavian and caro-count of
tid, as they are separated. If so, the resistance to the ^ suPeno*
blood must be less in that common trunk than in the left^S01
subclavian and carotid: But if the resistance be smaller, arm, leg,
the absolute force with which the blood is sent from the&c*
heart being equal, there must necessarily be a greater
quantity ot blood sent through them in a given time j
and as the strength of the muscles is, cceteris paribus^
as the quantity of blood sent into them in a given time,
those ot the right arm will be stronger than those of the
left. Now children, being conscious of this superior
strength, use the right upon all occasions 5 and thus
from use comes that great difference which is so obser¬
vable, that this is a sufficient cause, seems evident
from fact j for what a difference is there betwixt the
right and the left arm of one who has played much at
tennis ? \ iew but the arms of a blacksmith and legs of
a footman, and you will soon be convinced of this effect
arising from using them. But if by any accident the
right arm is kept from action for some time, the other
from being used gets the better j and those people are
left-handed: lor it is not to be imagined, that the
small odds in the original formation of the vessels should
be sufficient to resist the effect of use and habit (instan¬
ces of the contrary occur every day) j it is enough for
our present argument, that where no means are used to
oppose it, the odds are sufficient to determine the choice
in favour ot the right. Now because it is natural to
begin with the leg corresponding to the hand we have
most power of, this is what gives also a superiority to
the right leg.
Ibis difference is not peculiar to man, but is still
more observable in those creatures in whom the same
mechanism does obtain in a greater degree. Ho but
observe a dog at a trot, how he bears forward with his
light side ; or look at him when a scraping up anv
thing, and you will presently see that he uses his right
much oftener than he does his left foot. Something
analogous to this may be observed in horses. It has
been the opinion of some anatomists, that left-handed
people, as well as those distinguished by the name of
ambidexter (who use both hands alike), have the two
caiotid and subclavian arteries coming off in four di¬
stinct
Chap. IV.
ANATOMY.
293
Of Qua¬
drupeds.
205
Diaphragm,
207
Sternum,
20S
Ribs.
209
Kidneys.
210
Papillae.
in
Pelvis,
stinct trunks from the arch of the aorta: but no ap¬
pearance of this kind has ever been observed in such
bodies as have been examined for this purpose j though
indeed these have been but few, and more experience
might throw greater light on the subject.
1 The diaphragm, in its natural situation, is in general
more loose and free than the human 5 which is owing
to its connexion with the neighbouring parts in a dif¬
ferent manner from ours. The human diaphragm is
connected to the pericardium \ which again, by the
intervention of the mediastinum, is tied to the sternum,
spine, &c. but here there is some distance between the
diaphragm and pericardium. We observe further,
that its middle part is much more moveable, and the
tendinous parts not so large. And indeed it was ne¬
cessary their diaphragm should be somewhat loose, they
making more use of it in difficult respiration than man.
This we may observe by the strong heaving of the
flanks of a horse or dog when out of breath ; which
corresponds to the rising of the ribs in us.
The sternum is very narrow, and consists of a great
number of small bones, moveable every way ; which
always happens in creatures that have a great mobility
in their spine. The ribs are straighter, and by no
means so convex as the human j whereby in respira¬
tion, the motion forward will very little enlarge their
thorax, which is compensated by the greater mobility
of their diaphragm j so our thorax is principally enlar¬
ged according to its breadth and depth, and theirs
according to its length. The want of clavicles, and
the consequent falling in of the atlantal extremities upon
the chest, may contribute somewhat to the straightness
of the ribs.
We come next to discourse of those organs that
serve for the secretion and excretion of urine. And
first of the kidneys: Which in this animal are situated
much in the same way as in the human subject j but
have no fat on their inferior surface, where they face
the abdomen, and are of a more globular form than
the human. The reason of these difl'erences will easily
appear, if we compare their situation and posture in
this animal with those in a man who walks erect. They
are placed in them in the sacral part of the body, so
are not subject to the pressure of the viscera, which
seems to be the principal cause of the fatness of those
organs in us, and perhaps may likewise be the cause
of our being more subject to the stone than other ani¬
mals. Hence there is no need of any cellular sub¬
stance to ward off’ this pressure where there would ne¬
cessarily be fat collected j but the atlantal part of their
kidneys is pretty well covered with fat, lest they should
suffer any compression from the action of the ribs and
spine.
In the internal structure there is still more consider¬
able difference : For the papillae do not here send
out single the several tubuli urinifeii; but being all
united, they hang down in form of a loose pendulous
flap in the middle of the pelvis, and form a kind of
partition ; so that a dog has a pelvis formed within
the substance of the kidney. The only thing that is
properly analogous to a pelvis in man is that sac or di¬
latation of the ureters formed at the union of the duc¬
tus unniferi. The external part of the kidney of a
dog somewhat resembles one of the lobes of the kidney
cf a human foetus: but in a human adult the appear¬
ance is very different; because, in man, from the con- Of Qua-
tinual pressure of the surrounding viscera, the lobes, diupeds.
which in the foetus are quite distinct and separated, ~v——J
concrete, but the original cortical substance is still pre¬
served in the internal parts of the kidney. The rea¬
son ol these peculiarities may probably be, that the
liquors of this animal, as of all those of the carnivo¬
rous kind, being much more acrid than those that live
on vegetable food, its urine must incline much to an
alkalescency, as indeed the smell and taste of that li¬
quor in dogs, cats, leopards, &c. evidently show, be¬
ing fetid and pungent, and therefore not convenient to
be long retained in the body. For this end it was
proper that the secreting organs should have as little
impediment as possible by pressure, &c. in the per¬
forming their functions ; and for that design, the me¬
chanism of their kidneys seems to be excellently
adapted : We have most elegant pictures in Eustachius
of the kidneys of brutes, delineated as such, with a
view to show Vesalius’s error in painting and describing
them for the human. 212
The glandulae or capsulae atrabilarice are thicker and CaPsulse .
rounder than the human, for the same reason as atla^a!)Se’
kidneys.
J 213
I he ureters are more muscular than the human, be-Ureters,
cause of the unfavourable passage the urine has through:
them ; they enter the bladder near its large extre-
mity. _ _ _ 2I4
1 he bladder of urine differs considerably from the Bladder,
human j and first in its form, which is pretty much
pyramidal or pyriform. This shape of the dog’s blad¬
der is likewise common to all quadrupeds, except the
ape and those of an erect posture. In man it is by no
means pyriform, but has a large sac at its dorsal and
sacral part: this form depends entirely on the urine
gravitating in our erect posture to its bottom, which
it will endeavour to protrude; but as it cannot yield
before, being contiguous to the os pubis, it will natu¬
rally stretch out. where there is the least resistance,
that is, at the posterior and lateral parts; and were it
not for this sac, we could not so readily come at the
bladder to extract the stone either by the lesser or la¬
teral operation of lithotomy. Most anatomists have
delineated this wrong: so much, that we know of
none who have justly painted it, excepting Mr Cow-
per, in his Mijotomia, and Mr Butty. It has certainly
been from observing it in brutes and young children,
that they have been led into this mistake. The same
cause, viz. the gravity of the urine, makes the bladder
of a different form in brutes : In their horizontal posi¬
tion the neck, from which the urethra is continued,
is higher than its fundus 5 the urine must therefore
distend and dilate the most depending part by its
weight. t ... .2*5
As to its connection, it is fastened to the abdominal Conaec-
muscles by a process of the peritoneum, and that mem- t^n»
brane is extended quite over it j whereas in us its su¬
perior and posterior parts are only covered by it: hence
in man alone the high operation of lithotomy can be _6
pei'formed without hazard of opening the cavity of the why the
abdomen. Had the peritoneum been spread over the human
bladder in its whole extent, the weight of the viscera ladder but
in our erect posture would have so borne upon it, that
they would not have allowed any considerable quantity tjie pei.^G„
of urine to be collected there j but we must have been neum.
obliged
294
ANATOMY.
Part
Of Qua¬
drupeds.
obliged to discharge its contents too frequently to be
consistent with the functions of a social life : Whereas
by means of the peritoneum, the urine is now collected
in sufficient quantity, the viscera not gravitating this
217
A stimalui
proved to
be a prin
ot the eva¬
cuation of
the blad¬
der.
218
Vasa sper-
matica.
219
Whence
the false
notion of
hernia or
rupture.
Of Qns
diuped
It may be taken for a general rule, that those crea¬
tures that feed upon animal food have their bladder
more muscular and considerably stronger and less ca¬
pacious, than those that live on vegetables, such as
horses, cows, swine, &c. whose bladder of urine is per¬
fectly membranous, and very large. This is wisely
adapted to the nature of their food: For in these first,
as all their juices are more acrid, so in a particular
manner their urine becomes exalted ; which, as its de¬
lay might be of very ill consequence, must necessari¬
ly be quickly expelled. This is chiefly effected by its
stimulating this viscus more strongly to contract, and
so to discharge its contents, though the irritation does
not altogether depend upon the stretching, but likewise
arises from the quality of the liquor. That a stimulus
is one of the principal causes of the excretion of urine,
we learn from the common saline diuretic medicines
-Pttc-e that are given, which are dissolved into the serum of
the blood, and carried down by the kidneys to the
bladder: The same appears likewise from the applica¬
tion of cantharides $ or without any of these, when
the parts are made more sensible, as in an excoriation
of the bladder, there is a frequent desire to make wa¬
ter. Accordingly we find these animals evacuate their
urine much more frequently than man, or any other
creature that lives on vegetable food. And if these
creatures, whose fluids have already a tendency to pu¬
trefaction, are exposed to heat or hunger, the liquids
must for a considerable time undergo the actions of
the containing vessels, and frequently perform the
course of the circulation, without any new supplies of
food ; by which the fluids becoming more and more
acrid, the creatm*e is apt to fall into feverish and putrid
diseases.
Their spermatic vessels are within the peritoneum,
which is spread over them, and from which they have
a membrane like a mesentery, to hang loose and pen¬
dulous in the abdomen : whereas in us, they are con¬
tained in the cellular part of the peritoneum, which is
tensely stretched over them. At their passage out of
the lower belly, there appears a plain perforation, or
holes ; hence the adult quadruped, in this respect, re¬
sembles the human foetus. And from observing this
in quadrupeds, has arisen the false notion of hernia or
rupture among authors. This opening, which leads
down to the testicle, is of no disadvantage to them,
but evidently would have been to us j for from the
weight of our viscera, and our continually gravitating
upon these holes, we must have perpetually laboured
under enteroceles. This they are in no* hazard of,
since in them this passage is at the highest part of their
belly; and in their horizontal posture, the viscera can¬
not bear upon it: And to prevent even the smallest
hazard, there is a loose pendulous semilunar flap of fat j
which serves two uses, as it both hinders the intestines
from getting into the passage, and also the course of
the fluids from being stopped in the vessels, which is
secured in us by the cellular substance and tense peri-
And it may be worth while to observe, that
this process remains almost unaltered, even after the ani¬
mal has been almost exhausted of fat.
There is next a passage quite down into the cavity
where the testicles lie. Had the same structure ob¬
tained in man, by the constant drilling down of the li¬
quor which is secreted for the lubricating of the guts,
we should always have laboured under an hydrocele ;
but their posture secures them from any hazard of this
kind : indeed very fat lap-dogs, who consequently have
an overgrown omentum, are sometimes troubled with an
epiplocele. > 2J0
The scrotum is shorter and not so pendulous as the Scrotum,
human in all the dog kind that want the vesiculce semi-
nales, that the seed at each copulation might the soon¬
er he brought from the testes, thus in some measure
supplying the place of the vesiculce seminales; for the xh^vesi
course of the seed through the vasa deferentia is thus cu]£e seni
shortened by placing the secerning vessels nearer the nales, ho
excretory organs. Perhaps its passage is likewise quick- supplied,
ened by the muscular power of the vasa deferentia,
which is stronger in this creature than in man. The
want of vesiculce seminales at the same time explains
the reason why this creature is so tedious in copula¬
tion. But why these bodies are absent in the dog kind
more than in other animals, is a circumstance we know
nothing of. _ 222
The structure of the testicles is much the same withTestei.
the human j as are likewise the corpus pyrarnidale, va-
ricosum, or pampiniforme, and the epididymis or excre¬
tory vessel of the testicle. The vasa deferentia enter the
abdomen where the blood vessels come out j and, passing
along the upper part of the bladder, are inserted a little
below the bulbous part of the urethra.
The praeputium has two muscles fixed to it: one
that arises from the sphincter ani, and is inserted all 22^
along the penis ; and this is called retractor prceputii:
But the other, whose office is directly contrary to this,
is cutaneous; and seems to take its origin from the
muscles of the abdomen, or rather to be a production
of their tunica carnosa. The corpora cavernosa rise
much in the same way as the human j but these soon
terminate ; and the rest is supplied by a triangular bone,
in the inferior part of which there is a groove excava¬
ted for lodging the urethra. There are upon the penis
two protuberant bulbous fleshy substances, resembling
the glans penis in man, at the back of which are two
veins, which by the erectores penis and other parts are
compressed in the time of coition j and the circulation
being stopped, the blood distends the large cavernous 22^
bodies. After the penis is thus swelled, the vagina Coitus.
toneum
by its contraction and swelling of its corpus caverno-
sum, which is considerably greater than in other ani¬
mals, gripes it closely j and so the male is kept in ac¬
tion some time contrary to his will, till time be given
for bringing a quantity of seed sufficient to impregnate
the female : and thus, by that orgasmus veneris of the
female organs, the want of the vesiculce seminales is
in some measure supplied. But as it would be a very
uneasy posture for the dog to support himself solely up¬
on his hinder feet, and for the bitch to support the
weight of the dog for so long a time ; therefore, as
soon as the bulbous bodies are sufficiently filled, he
gets off and turns averse to her. Had, then, the penis
been pliable as in other animals, the urethra must of
necessity
!hap.
3f Qua-
Irupeds.
225
rostata.
226
terus.
IV.
A N A
227
lamma?.
necessity have been compressed by this twisting, and
consequently the course of the seed intercepted ; but
’ this is wisely provided against by the urethra’s being
formed in the hollow of the bone. After the emission
of the seed, the parts turn flaccid, the circulation is
restored, and the bulbous parts can be easily ex¬
tracted.
The prostata seems here divided into two, which are
proportionably larger than the human, and afford a
greater quantity of that liquid.
The uterus of multiparous animals is little else but a
continuation of their vagina, only separated from it by
a small ring or valve. From the uterus two long ca¬
nals mount upon the loins, in which the foetus are
lodged: these are divided into different sacs, which are
strongly constricted betwixt each foetus \ yet these co-
arctions give way in the time of birth, from these go
out the tubce Fallopian*, so that the ovaria come to
lodge pretty near the kidneys.
The disposition and situation of the mamm* vary as
they bear one or more young. Those of the unipa-
rous kind have them placed between the sacral ex¬
tremities, which in them is the highest part of their
bodies, whereby their young get at them without the
inconvenience of kneeling: Nevertheless, when the
creatures are of no great size, and their breast large,
as in sheep, the young ones are obliged to take this
posture. In multiparous animals, they must have a
great number of nipples, that their several young ones
may have room at the same time, and these disposed
over both thorax and abdomen 5 and the creatures ge¬
nerally lie down when the young are to be suckled,
that they may give them the most favourable situation.
From this it does not appear to be from any particular
fitness of the vessels at certain places for giving a pro¬
per nourishment to the child, that the breasts are so
placed in women as w'e find them, but really from that
situation being the most convenient both for mother and
infant.
Sect. III. Anatomy of ruminating Animals, and par¬
ticularly of the Cow.
The animal whose structure we have been examin¬
ing, being one of those which live chiefly on other ani¬
mals, had a foot formed for running and seizing its
prey. But the tribe of ruminating animals have their
feet enveloped in a horny covering, fitting them for
walking much, as is required of many of them, but to¬
tally disqualifying them for seizing living prey.
In these animals, the spinous processes of the verte¬
bra; of the neck diminish in size according to the
length of the neck ; the atlas, or first vertebra, has its
lateral processes flatted and bending fonvards, and the
mammillary processes of the back of the head are
lengthened out 5 hence, they can move the head with
difficulty sideways or forwards, but the motion of the
neck is very extensive. The ribs are broad and thick.
The scapula is narrow next the back, and lengthened
out towards the neck, and it has neither acromion nor
coracoid process. The great tuberosity near the head
of the thigh bone, in the atlantal extremity is very
large, and the rough line on the bone very prominent,
to give greater room for the insertion of strong mus¬
cles. The two bones of the fore leg grow together
T O M Y.
almost their whole length,
295
being only distinguished OfQua-
from it at the top by a furrow. Hence, the side mo- drupeds.
tion of the foot in these animals is almost entirely pre-'““v—^
vented. The haunch bone is shaped something like a
hammer, with the anterior part of the spine extremely
large, and the muscles situated about these bones ex¬
ceeding strong and bulky, as one would suppose they
ought to be, in order to enable these animals to kick
with greater power.
There are no parietal bones in the skull of these ani¬
mals, but their place is occupied by one very strong bone
in the top of the head j the frontal bone is very large,
and forms a large arch overhanging each orbit.
The brain, in these animals, is much smaller in pro¬
portion to the rest of their body, than in man 5 in the
ox it constitutes of the weight of the body, where¬
as in man it amounts to about j its general form does
not differ much from that of man.
In the eye of the cow the pupil is oblong, rounded
at the ends, and the tapetum is of a beautiful green
colour, changing to an azure blue 3 the striae at the
back of the uvea are very large and conspicuous. I he
eye of this animal is usually the subject of dissection
in examining the structure of this organ, which it ex¬
hibits to great advantage. It is in the organs of dige¬
stion, that these animals differ most essentially from the
other mammalia 3 these therefore deserve a particular
examination. 228
There are no cutting teeth in the upper jaw, but The history
the gums are pretty hard, and the tongue rough, of the cow
This roughness is occasioned by long sharp-pointed
papillae, with which the whole substance of it is cover- mal
ed. These papillae are turned towards the throat 3 so
that by their means the food, having once got into
the mouth, is not easily pulled back. The animals
therefore supply the defect of teeth by wrapping their
tongue round a tuft of grass : and so, pressing it against
the upper jaw, keep it stretched, and cut it with the
teeth of the under jaw ; then, without chewing, throw
it down into the gullet, which in these creatures con¬
sists of a double row of spiral fibres crossing one ano¬
ther. All animals which ruminate must have more
stomachs than one 3 some have two, some three 3 our ^
present subject has no less than four. The food is car-Jt ^ fout
ried directly down into the first, which lies upon the g[omac}ls<
left side, and is the largest of all: it is called _c
ventriculus, and Ktiyicc, byway of eminence. It is what^^
is called by the general name of paunch by the vulgar, names and
There are no rugae upon its internal surface 3 but in-description,
stead of these there are a vast number of small blunt-
pointed processes, by which the whole has a general
roughness, and the surface is extended to several times
the size of the paunch itself. The food, by the force
of its muscular coat, and the liquors poured in here,
is sufficiently macerated 3 after which it is forced up
hence by the gullet into the mouth, and there it is
made very small by mastication 3 this is what is pro¬
perly called chewing the cud, or rumination ; for which
purpose the grinders are exceedingly well fitted: for
instead of being covered with a thin crust, the enamel
on them consists of perpendicular plates, between which
the bone is bare, and constantly wearing faster than
the enamel, so that the tooth remains good to extreme
old age 3 and by means of these teeth the rumination
is carried on for a long time without any danger oi
spoiling ,
2Q6
ANATOMY.
Of Qua- spoiling them. After rumination, the foot! is sent
dmpeds. down by the gullet into the second stomach j for the
 ' gullet opens indifferently into both. It ends exactly
where the two stomachs meet: and there is a smooth
gutter with rising edges which leads into the second
stomach, from thence to the third, and also to the
fourth : however, the creature has the power of di¬
recting it into which it will. Some tell us, that the
drink goes into the second $ but that might be easily
determined by making them drink before slaughter.
The second stomach, which is the anterior and smaller,
is called Hix^vpxXt?, reticulum, honeycomb, the bonnet
or king's hood. It consists of a great number of cells
on its internal surface, of a regular pentagonal figure,
like a honeycomb. Here the food is farther macerat¬
ed ; from which it is protruded into the third, called
or omasum, vulgo the manyplies, because the in¬
ternal surface rises up into a great many plicae or folds,
and stratum super stratum, according to the length of
this stomach. Some of these plicae are farther produ¬
ced into the stomach than others ; i. e. first two long
ones on each side, and within these two shorter in the
middle, &c. There are numberless glandular grains
like millet seeds dispersed on its plicae, from which
some authors call this stomach the millet. From this
it passes into the fourth, whose names are ijM'rjsv, abo¬
masum, caille, or the red, which is the name it com¬
monly has because of its colour. This much resem¬
bles the human stomach, or that of a dog ; only the
inner folds or plicae are longer and looser j and it may
also be observed, that in all animals there is only one
digestive stomach, and that has the same coagulating
power in the foetus as the fourth stomach in this 'ani¬
mal ; whence this might not improperly be called the
only true stomach. CailU signifies curdled; and hence
the French have given that as a name to this fourth
stomach, because any milk that is taken down by young
calves is there curdled. It is this fourth stomach, with
the milk curdled in it, that is commonly taken for
making runnet: but after the bile and pancreatic
juice enter, this coagulation is not to be found, which
shows the use of these liquors. There are other crea¬
tures which use the same food, that have not such a
mechanism in their digestive organs. Horses, asses,
&c. have but one stomach, where grass is macerated,
and a liquor for their nourishment extracted, and
the remainder sent out by the anus very little altered.
From this different structure of the stomach in these
creatures, a ruminant animal will be served with one-
third less food than another of equal bulk: grasiers
are sufficiently acquainted with this. The reason is,
that ruminating animals have many and strong di¬
gestive organs j all their food is fully prepared, and
almost wholly converted into chyle : But a horse’s
stomach is not fitted for this ; so that he requires a
much greater quantity of food to extract the same
nourishment.
The guts of these creatures are of a considerable
length in proportion to the bulk of the body ; and
this confirms what we said formerly on the subject of
the intestines of a dog, viz. that the length and capa¬
city ot the guts were different in different animals ac¬
cording to the nature of their food.
. The duodenum is formed here much the same way as
m a dog, and the general intention kept in view with
Part
Of Q»
*31
Intestina.
232
Duode¬
num.
regard to the mixture of the bile and pancreatic lymph.
The great guts here hardly deserve that name, their
diameter differing very little from that of the small ;
but to compensate this, they are much longer propor¬
tionally than a dog’s, being convoluted as the small
guts are. The csecum is very large and long. The
digestion of the cow, as well as some other animals,
is accomplished with rumination; the intention of which
seems to be, that the food may be sufficiently commi¬
nuted, and thus more fully acted upon by the stomach :
for it is not observed that a calf ruminates as long as
it is fed only upon milk, though the action takes place
as soon as it begins to eat solid food. But it is to be
observed, that as long as a calf feeds only upon milk,
the food descends immediately into the fourth stomach
(which, as has been already mentioned, seems only ca¬
pable of performing the operation of digestion) with¬
out stopping in any of the first three. The rumina¬
tion does not take place till after the animal has eaten
a pretty large quantity : after which she lies down,
if she can do it conveniently, and begins to chew,
though the operation will take place in a°standing pos¬
ture, if she cannot lie down. In this action a ball is
observed to rise from the stomach with great velocity,
almost as if shot from a musket. This ball the animal
chews very accurately, and then swallows it again, and
so on alternately, till all the food she has eaten has un¬
dergone this operation. This is easily explained from
the structure of the gullet, which has one set of fibres
calculated for bringing up the grass, and another for ta¬
king it down.
By means of rumination, the cow extracts a much
larger proportion of nourishment from her food than
those animajs which do not ruminate j and hence she
is contented with much worse fare, and smaller quan¬
tities of it, than a horse j hence also the dung of
cows, being much more exhausted of its fine parts
than horse-dung, proves much inferior to it as a ma¬
nure.
The spleen differs not much either in figure or situa-Spieenf
tion from that of a dog j but it is a little more firmly
fixed to the diaphragm, there not being here so much
danger of this viscus’s being hurt in the flexions of the
spleen.
The liver is not split into so many lobes in this crea-Liver.^
ture as either in a man or dog; which depends on the
small motion this creature enjoys in its spine, which
made such a division needless. This also confirms what
we formerly advanced on this head. ^
The situation of the heart is pretty much the same Heart,
with that ol a dog, only its point is rather sharper :
In us, the heart beating continually against the ribs,
and both ventricles going equally far down to the con¬
stitution of the apex, it is very obtuse : but here the
apex is made up only of the left ventricle, so is more
acute. ... 236
The aorta in this creature is justly divided into <75-Aorta as-
cending and descending, though this division is ill found-ce“d®ns
ed either in a dog or man j and it has certainly been scendens,
from this subject that the older anatomists took their
descriptions when they made this division ; for here
the aorta divides into two, the ascending and descend-
ing.
^ • ^37
Their urinary bladder is of a pyramidal shape. It is Bladder.
very large, and more membranaceous $ for the urine
of
;hap. IV. ANA
Of Qua- of these creatures not being so acrid as that of carnivo-
jirupedf. rous animals, there was no such occasion for expelling
—it so soon.
23s The male is provided with a loose pendulous scrota???,
esicute and consequently with vesiculce seminaies. The female
minales. organs differ from those of a bitch, mostly as to the
form of the cornua uteri, which are here contorted
in form of a snail. In this, and all uniparous animals,
they contain only part of the secundines j but in
bitches, and other multiparous animals, they run
straight up in the abdomen, and contain th« lostus
239
ter us.
240
oruua
:eri.
241
terus if
licker in
me of ge.
atioa.
242
Morion.
, l43
ot>le-
aaes.
themselves.
The form of a cow’s uterus differs from the human in
having two pretty large cornua. This is common to it
with other brutes j for a bitch has two long cornua ute¬
ri: But these again differ (as being multiparous and
uniparous) in this, that in the bitch’s cornua the fostus
are contained ; whereas here there is only part ol the
secundines, being mostly the allantois with the includ¬
ed liquor. The muscular fibres of the uterus are
more easily discovered ; its internal surface has a great
number of spongy, oblong, protuberant, glandular bo¬
dies fixed to it. These are composed of vessels of the
uterus terminating here. In an unimpregnated uterus
we can easily press out of them a chylous mucilaginous
liquor 5 they are composed of a great many processes
or digituli, and deep caverns, answering to as many
caverns and processes of the placenta. Their resem¬
blance has occasioned the name of papillae to be given
them : and hence it was that Hippocrates was induced
to believe that the foetus sucked in utero. The papillae
are found in all the different stages of life, in the va¬
rious stages of pregnancy, and likewise in the unim¬
pregnated state. It is not easy to determine whether
the uterus grows thicker or thinner in the time of ges¬
tation. The membranes, it is plain (by the stretching
of the parts), must be made thinner j but then it is
as evident, that the vessels are at that time enlarged,
upon which principally the thickness of any part de¬
pends $ so there seems to be as much gained the one
way as lost the other.
The os uteri is entirely shut up by a glutinous muci¬
laginous substance, that is common to the females of all
creatures when with young: by this the external air
is excluded, which would soon make the liquors cor¬
rupt : it also prevents the inflammation of the mem¬
branes, and the hazard of abortion. By this means
also the lips of the womb are kept from growing to¬
gether, which otherwise they would certainly at this
time do. There are mucous glands placed here to se¬
crete this gluten, which on the breaking of the mem¬
branes with the contained waters makes a soap that lu¬
bricates and washes the parts, and makes them easily
yield. The first of the proper involucra of the foetus
is the chorion.
The chorion is a pretty strong firm membrane, on
whose external surface are depressed a great many red
fleshy bodies of the same number, size, and structure,
with the papillae, with which they are mutually indent¬
ed. They have been called cotyledones, from xorv**,
“ cavity.” This is greatly disputed by some as a name
very improper; but we think without reason, since
the surface that is connected to the papillae is concave,
though when separated it appears rather convex. To
shun all dispute, thev may be called properly enough
Vol. II. Part I. t
T O M Y.
297
placentulce^ since they serve the same use as the placenta of Qua-
in woman. The separation of these from the papillae dmpeds
without any laceration, and our not being able to inject w'~v
coloured liquors from the vessels ol the glands ol the
uterus into the placentulae, seem to prove beyond a re-,
ply, that there can be here no anastomoses betwixt the
vessels. On their coats run a great number of vessels
that are sent to the present placentulae, on the external
side next to the uterus ; whereas in creatures that have
but one placenta, as in the human subject, cats, dogs,
&.c. the adhesion is somewhat firmer : The placentae are
likewise joined to the papillae in the cornua uteri. e
shall next give the history of \\\n allantois. 244
This is a fine transparent membrane contiguous to Allantois,
the former. It is not a general involucrum ol the foe¬
tus in the mother, for it covers only a small part of the
amnios. It is mostly lodged in the cornua uteri. In
mares, bitches, and cats, it surrounds the amnios, be¬
ing everywhere interposed betwixt it and the chorion.
In sheep and goats it is the same as in this animal ; and
in swine and rabbits it covers still less of the amnios.
This sac is probably formed by the dilatation of the
urachus, which is connected at its other end to the
fundus of the bladder, through which it receives its
contents ; and a great quantity of urine is commonly
found in it. The membrane is doubled at the extre-
mity of the canal, to hinder the return of the urine
back into the bladder. Its vessels are so excessively fine
and few, that we cannot force an injected liquor farther
than the beginning of this coat. This membrane is so
far analogous to the cuticula, as not to be liable to cor¬
ruption, or easily irritated by acrid liquors. The exist¬
ence of this membrane in women has been very warmly 245
disputed on both sides. Those who are against its exist- The argu-
ence deny they could ever find it*, and, allowing it™^5
were so, allege, that since the urachus is impervious, as t}le |1nfj1iail
appears by our not being able to throw liquors from the allantois,
bladder into it, or vice versa, it cannot serve the use
that is agreed by all it does serve in beasts $ and there¬
fore in the human body there is no such thing. But if
we consider, on the other hand, first, that there seems
to be the same necessity for such a reservoir in man as in
other animals j secondly, that we actually find urine
contained in the bladder of the human foetus $ thirdly,
that urine has been evacuated at the navel when the
urethra was stopped, which urine without this conduit
would have fallen into the cavity of the abdomen ;
fourthly, that midwives have pretended to remark two
different sorts of waters come away at the time of
birth : and, lastly, that Dr Littre and Dr Hale have
given in this membrane of a human subject, with all
the other secundines, curiously prepared, the one to the
Royal Academy at Paris, the other to the Royal So¬
ciety at London ; by which societies their respective ac¬
counts are attested; not to mention Yerheyen, Heister,
Keill, &c. who affirm their having seen it; and Albi-
nus is said to have shewn to his college every year a
preparation of it: On all these accounts it seems most
probable, that there is such a membrane in the human
body. 246
The third proper integument of the foetus is the am- Aranios.
nios. It is thinner and firmer than the chorion ; it has
numerous ramifications of the umbilical vessels spread
upon it, the lateral branches of which separate a liquor
into its cavity. This is the proper liquor of the am-
P p nios;
v
298
Of Birds, nios j which at first is in a small quantity, afterwards in-
v——' creases for some months, then again decreases j and in
a cow near her time, the quantity of this liquor is not
above a pound. The membrane does not enter the cor¬
nua uteri in this creature, being confined to the body of
the uterus j whereas the allantois occupies chiefly its
cornua. But for what further relates to the structure of
the involucra, with the nature of the liquors contained
in them, we must refer to the second volume of Medi¬
cal Essays, from page 121, where you have the sum of
all we know of this matter.
Part II
There are here two vencc umbilicales, and but one in of Birds,
the human subject $ because the extreme branches co- \r“~
ming from the several placentulae could not unite so soon
as they would have done had they come all from one
cake, as in the human.
There is a small round fleshy body that swims in the
urine of this creature, nlares, &c. which is the hippo-
manes of the ancients. Several idle opinions and whims
have been entertained as to its use ; but that seems to be
still unknown, or how it is generated or nourished, for
it has no connection with the foetus or placentulae.
ANATOMY.
CHAP. V. THE ANATOMY OF BIRDS.
Sect. I. Of Birds in General.
The structure of the greater part of these animals
is obviously calculated for the most rapid of all mo¬
tions. That part of the vertebral column which con¬
stitutes the back is immoveable ; but the neck is ex¬
ceedingly flexible, the vertebrae being articulated to¬
gether, not by flat surfaces, but by portions of cylin¬
ders, but in such a manner as that the more atlantal
vertebrae can move only forward, the more sacral only
backward. The neck is generally long, but its length
differs in vai’ious species, being determined by their man¬
ner of life and other circumstances. The head is small
in proportion to the body, and generally ends in a
sharp bill, that the animal may the more easily make
its way through the air. The breast bone is shaped
like a shield, and has in the middle a large and broad
spine, like the keel of a ship, thus forming a consider¬
able extent of surface for the insertion of muscles.
This ridge is most conspicuous in birds that fly. On
each side of the breast bone, next the wings, are two
bones, which correspond to the clavicle or collar bone
in man, by which the wings are connected to the breast
bone, and between these is a very elastic bone with
two horns, shaped like a V, and commonly known by
the name of merry thought. The wings are composed
in a manner similar to the atlantal extremity in the mam¬
malia, and are generally divided into two portions; the
wing, to which the principal muscles are attached, and
the pinion.
Their 7 Eowls have the strongest muscles of their whole bo¬
wings, how dy inserted into their wings; whence by the way we
furnished, may observe, that it is altogether impossible for man
to buoy himself up into the air like birds, even though
he had proper machines in place of wings, unless he
were likewise provided with muscles strong enough for
moving them, which he has not. In the°next place,
their wings are not placed in the middle of their bo¬
dies, but a good deal farther forwards ; whence it
would at first view appear, that their heads would be
Why^not erfc*:> their posterior parts most depending when
placed in ra‘*ed in the air ; but by stretching out their heads
the middle which act upon the lever of a long neck, they alter
of the body, their centre of gravity pretty much; and also by fil¬
ling the sacs or bladders in the inside of their abdomen
with air, and expanding their tail, they come to make
the posterior part of their bodies considerably higher;
and thus they fly with their bodies nearly in a hori¬
zontal situation. Hence we find, that if their necks
3.,
are kept from being stretched out, or if you cut away
their tails, they become incapable of flying any consi¬
derable way.
The largeness of the wings in different fowls varies
according to the wants of the creature. Thus birds
of prey, who must fly a considerable way to provide
their food, have large strong wings ; whereas domestic
birds, who find their nourishment almost everywhere,
have very short and but small wings. Their tail is of
use in assisting to raise them in the air; though the
chief purpose of it is to serve as a rudder in guiding
their flight, whilst they use their wings as we do oars
in putting forward a boat. The best account of this
manner of progression of fowls is given by Alfonsus
Borellus, in his treatise De Motu Animalium; and in the
Religious Philosopher we. have Borelli’s doctrine stripped
pretty much of its mathematical form. The sacral
extremities are situated so far back, as to make us at
first think they would be in continual hazard of falling
down forwards when they walk : but this is prevented
by their holding up their head and neck, so as to
make the centre of gravity fall upon the feet; and when
they have occasion for climbing up a steep place, they
stretch out their heads and necks forward, especially if
they are short-legged, the better to preserve properly the
balance of the body. Thus we may observe a goose en¬
tering a barn door, where generally there is an ascend¬
ing step, to stretch out its neck, which before was rais¬
ed, and incline its body forwards. This is laughed at
by the common people, who ascribe it to a piece of fol¬
ly in the goose, as if afraid of knocking its head against
the top of the door. 245)
Carnivorous birds are provided with strong crook-A peculi
ed claws for catching their prey : water fowls use Jnecbam
them for swimming; and, principally for this PurP0Se> fo^ls*
have a strong firm membrane interposed betwixt the
toes. There is a beautiful mechanism to be observed
in the toes ol fowls, which is of considerable use to
them. For their toes are naturally drawn together,
or bend, when the foot is bended : this is owing to
the shortness of the tendons of the toes, which pass
over them, which is analogous to our heel; and that
the toes are set in the circumference of a circle, as our
fingers are : Hence, when the foot is bended, the ten¬
dons must consequently be much stretched ; and, since
they are inserted into the toes, must of necessity bend
them when the foot is bended ; and when the foot is
extended, the flexors of the toe are again relaxed,
and they are therefore expanded. This is also of great
use to different kinds of fowls; thus the hawk de¬
scending
250
Their co-
ei'ing.
lSI
The organ
of smellin
252
Eye.
scending with his legs and feet extended, spreads his
talons over his prey ; and the weight of his body bend¬
ing his feet, the toes are contracted, and the prey is
seized by the talons. This is also of great use to water
fowls: for had there been no such contrivance as this,
they must have lost as much time when they pulled their
legs in as they had gained by the former stroke : but, as
the parts are now framed, whenever the creature draws
in its foot, the toes are at the same time bended and
contracted into less space, so that the resistance made
against the water is not near so great as before : on the
contrary, when they stretch their foot, their toes are
extended, the membrane betwixt them expanded, and
consequently a greater resistance made to the water.
Again, such fowls as live mostly in the air, or have
occasion to sustain themselves on branches of trees in
windy weather, and even in the night-time when
asleep, while all their muscles are supposed to be in a
state of relaxation, have only to lean down the weight
of their bodies, and their toes continue bended without
any muscles being in action 5 and whenever they would
disentangle themselves, they raise up their bodies, by
which their feet, and consequently their toes, are ex¬
tended.
Fowls have a particular covering of feathers different
from all other creatures, but exactly well suited to their
manner of life: for it not only protects them from the
injuries of the weather, but serves them in their progres¬
sion through that thin aerial element they are, for the
most part, employed in 5 and as fowls live much in the
water, their feathers being continually besmeared with
an oily liquor, keeps the Water from soaking into their
skins, and so prevents the bad effects which it would in¬
fallibly otherwise produce.
The brain in birds is large in proportion to their
heads : it has neither corpus callosum, fornix, nor cor¬
pora quadrigemina. Hence we may conclude, that these
parts are not essential to life, nor probably to reason.
The organ of smelling is placed at the base of the
beak ; the nostrils are sometimes naked, sometimes con¬
cealed by feathers, and by a small scale, or even by a
fleshy substance.
The organ of smelling is very large, and well pro-
vided with nerves ; hence they have this sensation very
acute. Havens and other birds of prey give a sure
proof of this, by their being able to find out their prey,
though concealed from their sight and at a considerable
distance.
Those birds that grope for their food in the waters,
mud, &c. have large nerves, which run quite to the
end of their bills, by which they And out and distin¬
guish their food.
The anterior part of their eyes (instead ol having the
sclerotic coat continued, so as to make near a sphere
as in us) turns all of a sudden flat: so that here the
sclerotic makes but half a sphere ; and the cornea rises
up afterwards, being a portion ot a very small and di¬
stinct sphere : so that in these creatures there is a much
greater difference betwixt the sclerotic and cornea than
in us. Hence their eyes do not jut out of their heads,
as in man and quadrupeds. As most ol these creatures
are continually employed in hedges and thickets, there¬
fore, that their eyes might he secured Irom these inju¬
ries, as well as from too much light when flying in the
face of the sun, there is a very elegant mechanism in
ANATOMY. 299
their eyes. A membrane rises from the internal can- Of Birds,
thus, which at pleasure, like a curtain, can be made to " v *
cover the whole eye j and this by means of a proper
muscle that rises from the sclerotic coat, and passing
round the optic nerves, runs through the musculus
oculi attollens (by which however the optic nerves are
not compressed) and palpebra, to be inserted into the
edge of this membrane. Whenever this muscle ceases
to act, the membrane by its own elasticity again dis¬
covers the eye. This covering is neither pellucid nor
opaque, both which would have been equally inconve¬
nient j but, being somewhat transparent, allows as ma¬
ny rays to enter as to make any object just visible, and is
sufficient to direct them in their progression. By means
of this membrane it is that the eagle is said to look at
the sun. 253
Besides, all birds have another peculiarity, the use Bourse
of which is not so well understood: and that is, adescription
pretty long black triangular purse, rising from the and useSa
bottom of their eye just at the entry ol the optic
nerve, and stretched out into their vitreous humour,
and one would imagine it gave some threads to the
crystalline. To this the French (who probably were
the first who took notice of it in their dissections be¬
fore the Hoyal Academy) gave the name of bourse notr.
This may probably serve to suffocate some of the rays
of light, that they may see objects more distinctly with¬
out hurting their eyes. It has a connection with the
vitreous, and seems to be joined also to the crystalline
humour. If we suppose it to have a power ot con¬
traction (which may be as well allowed as that of the
iris), it may so alter the position of the vitreous and
crystalline humours, that the rays from any body may
not fall perpendicularly upon the crystalline : and this
seems to be necessary in them, since they cannot change
the figure of the anterior part of their eye so much as
we can do: and as this animal is exposed often to too
great a number of rays of light, so they have no ta-
petum, but have the bottom of their eye wholly black
on the retina ; and in consequence of this, fowls see
very ill in the dark. ^ 254
They have no external ear; but in place of it a tuft^g^uoi
of very fine feathers covering the meatus auditorius, >eann-
which easily allows the rays of sound to pass them, and
likewise prevents dust or any insect from getting in. An
external tar would have been inconvenient in their pas¬
sing through thickets, and in flying, &c. A liquor is
separated in the external part of the ear, or meatus au¬
ditorius, to lubricate the passage, and further prevent
the entrance of any insects, &c. The membrana tym-
poni is convex externally *, and no muscles are fixed to
the bones of their ear, which are rather of a cartilagi¬
nous consistence : any tremulous motions impressed on
the air are communicated in these creatures merely by
the spring and elasticity of these bones ; so probably,
the membrane is not so stretched as in the human ear
by muscles. The semicircular canals are very distinct,
and easily prepared. 2^5
The rostrum, bill, or beak of fowls, is composed of The variety
two mandibles j and, as in quadrupeds, the upper one m the beak*
has no motion but what it possesses in common with “f fowIs*
» v ^ ^.1 ’ 1 its uses,wvv*
the head, But parrots are an exception to this rule j
for they can move the upper mandible at pleasure :
that is exceedingly convenient, as it enables them to lay
hold of whatever comes in their way. Carnivorous
P p 2 * fowls
300
Of Birds.
ANATOMY.
Part I
25S
Crop.
257
Ventricu-
lus sticcen-
turiatus »eu
infundibu¬
lum.
25S
Epidermis
invests the
internal
surface of
all the ca¬
vities and
vessels of
the human
body.
fowls have their beaks long, sharp, and crooked ", the
domestic fowls, such as the hen kind, &c. have strong
short beaks, commodiously fitted to dig up and break
their food ; the water-fowls, again, have long or very
broad scoop-like beaks, which is most convenient for
them.
The other circumstances in which the. structure of
birds differs from that of other animals, particularly as
to the organs of digestion, respiration, and generation,
will be best explained by describing them in an indivi-
.dual instance ; and we shall select for this purpose the
domestic cock, taking an opportunity of contrasting the
viscera of a carnivorous bird with those of this species
as a granivorous bird.
Sect. II. Anatomy of a Code.
Though this kind of birds live upon food somewhat
similar to that of man, yet as they have no teeth to se¬
parate or break down this food, we should expect to find
something to compensate for the want of teeth, some¬
thing remarkable in the organs of digestion : we shall
therefore begin with these parts.
The gullet of this creature runs down its neck, some¬
what inclined to the right side $ and terminates in a
pretty large membranous sac, which is the ingluvies or
crop, where the food is macerated and dissolved by a li¬
quor separated by the glands, which are easily observed
everywhere on the internal surface of this bag. The ef¬
fect of this maceration may be very Avell observed in
pigeons, who are sometimes in danger of being suf¬
focated by the pease, &c. they feed upon, swelling to
such an immense bulk in their ingluvies, that they can
neither get upwards nor downwards. If it be a fa¬
vourite fowl, it might be preserved bv opening the sac,
taking out the pease, and sewing up the wound.
The food getting out of this sac goes down by the
remaining part of the gullet into the ventriculus sue-
centunatus, or infundibulum Peijeid, which is a continu¬
ation of the gullet with more numerous glands, which
separate a liquor to dilute the food still more, which at
length gets into the true stomach or gizzard, ventricu¬
lus callosus, which consists of two very strong muscles
covered externally by a tendinous aponeurosis, and lin¬
ed on the inside by a very thick firm membrane,
which we evidently discover to be a production of the
cuticula. This might have been proved in some mea¬
sure d priori, from taking notice, that this membrane,
which in chicks is only a thin slight pellicle, by de¬
grees turns thicker and stronger the more attrition it
suffers : but there is no other animal substance, so far
as we know, which grows more hard and thick by be¬
ing subjected to attrition, excepting the cuticula.—
Hence may be drawn some kind of proof of what has
been affirmed concerning the tunica villosa of the sto¬
mach and intestines in the human body, viz. that it was
in part a continuation of the epidermis ; nay, all the
hollow parts of the body, even arteries, veins, &c.
seem to be lined with a production of this membrane,
or one analogous to it. The use of the internal coat
of the stomach of fowls is to defend the more tender
parts of that viscus from the hard grains and little
stones those creatures take down. The use of the
gizzard is to compensate for the want of teeth 5 and it
is well fitted for this purpose, from the great strength Of Bird
which it possesses.
The digestion of these animals is performed merely
by attrition, as is evinced by many experiments ; and it
is further assisted by the hard bodies they swallow.
We see them daily take down considerable numbers of
the most solid rugged little flints they find 5 and these
can serve for no other purpose than to help the tritura¬
tion of their aliments. After these pebbles, by be¬
coming smooth, are unfit for this office, they ‘are
thrown up by the mouth. Hence fowls that are long
confined, though ever so well fed, turn lean for want
of these stones to help their digestion. This wras put
beyond all dispute by Mr Tauvry, who gave a piece
of metal to an ostrich, convex on one side and concave
on the other, but carved on both 5 and opening the
creature’s body some time after, it was found, that the
carving on the convex side was all obliterated, while
the engraved character remained the same as befoi'e
on the concave side, which was not subjected to the sto¬
mach’s pressure : which could not have happened had
digestion been performed by a menstruum, or any other
way whatsoever ; but may be easily solved by allowing
a simple mechanical pressure to take place. We are,
however, by no means to conclude from this, as some
have too rashly done, that in the human body digestion
is performed by simple attrition ; otherwise we may,
with equal strength of reason, by as good arguments
drawn from what is observed in fishes, prove that the
aliments are dissolved in our stomachs by the action of a
menstruum. But this method of reasoning is very faul¬
ty ; nor can it ever bring us to the true solution of any
philosophical or medical problem. It is very plain, since
the structure of the parts of the human stomach are so
very different from that of this creature, that it is fool¬
ish and unreasonable to imagine both of them capable
of producing the same effects/ At each end of the sto¬
mach, there are as it were two particular sacs of a dif¬
ferent texture from the rest of the stomach, not consist¬
ing of strong muscular fibres *, they seem to be recepta¬
cles for the stones (especially at the end which is far¬
thest from the orifice^, while the digested aliment is
protruded into the intestines.
Spallanzani, however, has lately found, that pebbles
are not at all necessary to the trituration of the food of
these animals. At the same time, he does not deny,
that when put in motion by the gastric muscles, they
are capable of producing some effect on the contents
of the stomach ; but is inclined to believe, that they
are not sought for and selected by design, as many sup¬
pose, but because they frequently happen to be mixed
with the food.
The duodenum begins pretty near the same place atDuodeirJ
which the gullet enters ; yet notwithstanding the vici¬
nity of these two tubes, the aliments are in no danger
of getting out before they are perfectly digested, by
reason of a protuberance betwixt the orifices; and in
those creatures who have such a strong muscular sto¬
mach, it is a matter of great indifference whether the
entry of the gullet or pylorus be highest, provided that
the entry from the gullet does not allow the food to re¬
gurgitate, since the force of the stomach can easily pro¬
trude it towards the duodenum. This gut is mostly in
the right side, and hangs pendulous in their abdomen,
having
vhap.
Of Birds.
i5i
atestina
tnuia.
262
larnivor-
nis birds.
263
ingluyies.
264
Ventricu-
1ns succen-
turiatus.
2^5
Intestiua.
266
Pancreas.
267
The spleen,
V. ANA
having its bvo extremities fixed to the liver. The
ductus choledochus enters near its termination, where it
mounts up again to he fixed to the liver 5 and lest, by
the contraction of the intestines, the bile should pass
over without being intimately blended with the chyle,
that duct enters downwards, contrary to the course of
the food, and contrary to what is observed in any of
the animals we have yet mentioned. But still the ge¬
neral intention is kept in view, in allowing these juices
the fairest chance of being intimately blended with the
food.
The small guts are proportionally longer than those
of carnivorous birds, for the general cause already as¬
signed. At the end of the ilium they have two large
intestina cceca, one on each side, four or five inches long,
coming off from the side of the rectum, and ascending j
and we find them containing part of the food : I hese
serve as reservoirs to the feces j which, after some de¬
lay there, regurgitate into what soon becomes the rec¬
tum j which, together with the excretories of urine and
organs of generation, empties itself into the common
cloaca. The small intestines are connected by a long
loose mesentery, which has little or no fat accompany¬
ing the blood vessels, there being no hazard of the
blood’s being stopped.
The principal difference to be observed in carnivorous
birds is in their chylopoietic viscera, which may be ac¬
counted for from their different way of life.
Immediately under their clavicles, you will observe
the oesophagus expanded into their ingluvies, which is
proportionally less than in the granivorous kind, since
their food does not swell so much by maceration } and
for the same reason, there is a less quantity of a men¬
struum to be found here.
They have also a ventrkulus succenturiatus, plenti¬
fully stored with glands^ situated immediately above
their stomach, which we see here is thin and musculo-
membranous, otherwise than in the granivorous kind :
and this difference, which is almost the only one we
shall find betwixt the two different species of fowls, is
easily accounted for from the nature of their food,
which requires less attrition, being easier of digestion
than that of the other kind ; nevertheless, it seems re¬
quisite it should be stronger than the human, to com¬
pensate the want of abdominal muscles, which are here
very thin.
The same mechanism obtains in this creature’s duo¬
denum that we have hitherto observed. As being a car¬
nivorous animal, its guts are proportionally shorter than
those of the granivorous kind : for the reason first given,
viz. its food being more liable to corrupt, therefore not
proper to be long detained in the body 5 and for that
reason it has no intestina cceca, of which the other spe¬
cies of fowls have a pair. The difference in their
wings, backs, and claws, is obvious j and has been al¬
ready in some measure observed.
The pancreas in this creature lies betwixt the two
folds of the duodenum, and sends two or three ducts
into this gut pretty near the biliary.
The spleen is here of a round globular figure, situa¬
ted between the liver and stomach j and betwixt these
and the back bone it enjoys the same properties as in
other animals, viz. large blood vessels, &c. All its
blood is sent into the vena portarum, and has a perpe¬
tual conquassation. It has no excretory, as far as we
26S
aver.
T O M Y. 301
know. Their liver is divided into two equal lobes by Qf Bi ds.
a pellucid membrane, running according to the length ——v——<
of their body : and hence we may observe, that it is not .
peculiar to that bowel to lie on the right side j which i'11'
is still more confirmed by what we observe in fishes,
where the greatest part of it lies in the left side.
The shape of their gall bladder is not much different Vesica fel-
from that of quadrupeds y but is thought to be longerbs.
in proportion to the size of the animal, and is farther
removed from the liver. ,^c
The principal difference to be remarked in theircor-
heart, is the want of the valvulce tricuspides, and their
place being supplied by one fleshy flap. ^
The lungs are not loose within the cavity of the tho-pu]moneSj
rax, but fixed to the bone all the way j neither are their struc-
they divided into lobes, as in those animals that have ature and
larger motion in their spine. They are two red spongy uses* ^
bodies, covered with a membrane that is pervious, and
which communicates with the larger vesicles or air-bags-
that are dispersed over the whole abdomen } which 2^2
vesicles, according to Dr Monro, serve two very consi-T}iC use 0f
derable uses. The one is to render their bodies specifi- the vesicles
cally light, when they have a mind to ascend and buoyin the ab-
thernselves up when flying, by distending their lungs dom2e"*
with air, and also straiten their windpipe, and so return
the air. Secondly, They supply the place of a muscu-phragm,
lar diaphragm and strong abdominal muscles 5 producing how sup-
the same effects on the several contained viscera, as these P5'0'3,
muscles would have done, without the iuconveniency of
their additional weight; and conducing, as much to the
exclusion of the egg and feces.
Dr Hunter has made some curious discoveries rela¬
tive to these internal receptacles pf air in the bodies
of birds. Some of them are lodged in the fleshy
parts, and some in the hollow bones ; but all of them
communicate with the lungs. He informs us, that
the air cells which are found in the soft parts have no
communication with the cellular membrane which is
common to birds as well as other animals. Some of
them communicate immediately with each other ; but-
all of them by the intervention of the lungs as a com¬
mon centre. Some of them are placed in cavities, as
the abdomen ; others in the interstices of parts, as-
about the breast. The bones which receive air are of
two kinds ; some of them divided into innumerable
cells ; others hollowed out into one large canal. They
may be distinguished from such as do not receive air,
by having less specific gravity; by being less vascular;
by containing little oil ; by having no marrow nor
blood in their cells ; by having less hardness and firm¬
ness than others; and by the passage for the air being
perceivable.
The mechanism by which the lungs are fitted for -
conveying air to these cavities is, their being attached
to the diaphragm, and connected also to the ribs and
sides of the vertebrae. The diaphragm is-perforated
in several places by pretty large holes, allowing a free
passage of air into the abdomen. Jo each of these
holes is attached a distinct membranous bag, thin and
transparent. The lungs open at their interior part in¬
to membranous cells, which lie upon the side of the
‘pericardium, and communicate with the cells of the
sternum. The superior parts of the lungs open into
cells of a loose net-work, through which the wind¬
pipe and gullet pass. When these cells are distended
with .
302
Of Birds. 'v'ith air, it indicates passion, as in the case of the
u—v—turkey-cock, pouting-pigeon, &c.
These cells communicate with others in the axilla,
and under the large pectoral muscle 5 and those with the
cavity of the os humeri, by means of small openings in
the hollow surface near the head of that bone. Lastly,
The posterior edges of the lungs have openings into the
cells of the vertebrae, ribs, os sacrum, and other bones
of the pelvis, from which the air finds a passage to the
cavity of the thigh bone.
Concerning the use of these cavities the doctor con¬
jectures, that they are a kind of appendage to the
lungs j and that, like the bags continued through the
bellies of amphibious animals, they serve as a kind of
reservoirs of air. They assist birds during their flight,
which must be apt to render frequent respiration diffi¬
cult. He farther insinuates, that this construction of
the organs of respiration may assist birds in singing •,
which, he thinks, may be inferred from the long con¬
tinuance of song between the breathings of a canary
bird. On tying the windpipe of a cock, the animal
breathed through a canula introduced into his belly j
another through the os humeri, when cut across *, and a
hawk through the os femoris. In all these cases the
animal soon died. In the first, the doctor ascribes
the death to an inflammation of the bowels *, but in the
last, he owns it was owing to difficult breathing. What
took place, however, was sufficient to show that the
animals did really breathe through the bone.
When we examine the upper end of the trachea, we
observe a rima glottidis with muscular sides, which may
act in preventing the food or drink from passing into
the lungs : for there is no epiglottis as in man and qua-
274 drupeds,
Windpipe. 'The rvindpipe, near where it divides, is very much
contracted j and their voice is principally owing to
this coarctation. If you listen attentively to a cock
crowing, you will be sensible that the noise does not
proceed from the throat, but deeper j nay, this very
pipe, when taken out of the body, and cut off a little
after its division, and blown into, will make a squeak¬
ing noise something like the voice of these creatures.
On each side, a little higher than this contraction,
there is a muscle arising from the sternum, which
dilates the trachea. The cartilages, of which the pipe
is composed in this animal, go quite round it ; where¬
as in man and quadrupeds they are discontinued for
about one-fourth on the back part, and the interme¬
diate space is filled up by a membrane. Neither is the
trachea so firmly attached to their vertebra as in the
other creatures we have examined. This structure we
shall find of great service to them, if we consider, that
had the same structure obtained in them as in us, their
breath would have been in hazard of being stopped at
every flection or twisting of the neck, which they are
frequently obliged to. This we may be sensible of by
bending our necks considerably on one side, upon which
we shall find a great straitness and difficulty iij breath¬
ing 5 whereas their trachea is better fitted for followino-
the flexions of the neck by its loose connexion to the
vertebra;.
In place of a muscular diaphragm, this creature has
nothing but a thin membrane connected to the pe¬
ricardium, which separates the thorax and abdomen.
But besides this, the whole abdomen and thorax are di-
Part I
vided by a longitudinal membrane ox mediastinum con- Of Bird
nected to the lungs, pericardium, liver, stomach, and to v—
the fat lying over their stomach and guts, which is ana¬
logous to an omentum, and supplies its place.
The lymphatic system in birds consists, as in man, ofLymphai
lacteal and lymphatic vessels, with the thoracic duct, system.
The lacteals, indeed, in the strictest sense, are the
lymphatics of the intestines ; and, like the other lym¬
phatics, carry only a transparent lymph ; and instead
of one thoracic duct, there are two, which go to the
jugular veins. In these circumstances, it would seem
that birds differ from the human subject, so far at least
as we may judge from the dissection of 0. goose, the
common subject of this inquiry, and from which the
following description is taken.
The lacteals run from the intestines upon the mesen¬
teric vessels : those of the duodenum pass by the side
of the pancreas j afterward they get upon the cseliac
artery, of which the superior mesenteric is a branch.
Here they are joined by the lymphatics of the liver,
and then they form a plexus which surrounds the cte-
liac artery. Here also they receive a lymphatic from
the gizzard, and soon after another from the lower
pai-t of the gullet. At the root of the cteliac artery
they are joined by the lymphatics from the glandulse
renales, and near the same part by the lacteals from the
other small intestines, which vessels accompany the
lower mesenteric artery 5 but, before they join those
from the duodenum, receive from the rectum a lym¬
phatic, which runs from the blood vessels of that gut.
Into this lymphatic some small vessels from the kidneys
seem to enter at the root of the coeliac artery. The
lymphatics of the sacral extremities probably join those
from the intestines. At the root of the cseliac artery
and contiguous part of the aorta, a net-work is formed
by the vessels above described. , From this net-work
arise two thoracic ducts, of which one lies on each side
of the spine, and runs obliquely over the lungs to the
jugular vein, into the inside of which it terminates,
nearly opposite to the angle formed by this vein and
the subclavian one. The thoracic duct of the left side
is joined by a large lymphatic, which runs upon the
gullet. The thoracic ducts are joined by the lympha¬
tics of the neck, and probably by those of the" wings,
where they open into the jugular veins. The lympha¬
tics of the neck generally consist of two large branch¬
es, on each side of the neck, accompanying the blood
vessels ; and these two branches join near the lower
part of the neck, and form a trunk which runs close to
the jugular vein, and opens into a lymphatic gland j
from the opposite side of this gland a lymphatic comes
out, which ends in the jugular vein.
On the left side, the whole of this lymphatic joins
the thoracic duct of the same side ; but, on the right
one, part of it goes into the inside of the jugular vein
a little above the angle j while another joins the tho¬
racic duct, and with that duct forms a common trunk,
which opens into the inside of the jugular vein, a little
below the angle which that vein makes with the sub¬
clavian. This system in birds differs most from that of
quadrupeds, in the chyle being transparent and colour¬
less, and in there being no visible lymphatic glands,
neither in the course of the lacteals, nor in that of the
lymphatics of the abdomen, nor near the thoracic
ducts.
ANATOM Y.
The
Chap.
Of Birds.
276
Sidneys.
v. ANA
The kidneys lie in the hollow excavated in the side
-'of the back-bone, from which there is sent out a bluish
coloured canal running along by the side of the vas de¬
ferens, and terminating directly in the common cloaca.
This is the ureter, which opens by a peculiar aperture
of its own, and not at the penis. Fowls having no
urinary bladder, it was thought by some they never pas¬
sed any urine, but that it went to the nourishment of
the feathers : but this is false; for that whitish sub¬
stance that we see their greenish feces covered with,
and which turns afterwards chalky, is their urine. Let
us next consider the organs of generation ot both sexes,
and first those of the male.
Dhe organs The testicles are situated one on each side of the
if genera- back-bone; and are proportionally very large to the
ion in the creature’s bulk. From these run out the vasa semim-
nale. fera; at first straight; but after they recede farther
from the body of the testicle, they acquire an undu¬
lated or convoluted form, as the epididymis in man.
These convolutions partly supply the want of vesiculce
seminales, their coition being at the same time very
short: These terminate in the penis, of which the cock
has two, one on each side of the common cloaca,
pointing directly outwards. They open at a distance
from each other, and are very small and short; whence
they have escaped the notice of anatomists, who have
often denied their existence. In birds there is no pro¬
state gland. This is what is chiefly remarkable in the
g organs of the male.
Vitellari- The racemus vitellorum, being analogous to the ova-
,ibi. ria in the human subject, is attached by a proper mem¬
brane to the back-bone. This is very fine and thin,
TOM Y.
and continued down to the uterus. Its orifice is averse
with respect to the ovaria; yet notwithstanding, by
the force of the orgasmus venereus, it turns round and
grasps the vitellus, which in its passage through this
duct, called the infundibulum, receives a thick gela¬
tinous liquor, secreted by certain glands. This, with
what it receives in the uterus, composes the white
of the eggr By this tube then it is carried into the
uterus. The shell is lined with a membrane ; and in
the large end there is a bag full of air, from which
there is no outlet.
The uterus is a large bag, placed at the end of the Uterus.
infundibulum, full of wrinkles on its inside; here the
egg is completed, receiving its last involucrum, and is
at last pushed out at an opening on the side of the com¬
mon cloaca. From the testes in the male being so very
large in proportion to the body of the creature, there
must necessarily be a great quantity of semen secreted ;
hence the animal is salacious, and becomes capable ot
impregnating many females. The want of the vesiculce The want
seminales in some measure supplied by the convolu-°f the Tesi-
tions of the vasa deferentia, and by the small distance S
279
betwixt the secerning and excretory organs. The two SUppije(jo
penes contribute also very much to their short coition ;
at which time the opening of the uterus into the cloaca
is very much dilated, that the effect of the semen on the
vitelli may be the greater.
A hen will of herself indeed lay eggs ; but these are
not impregnated, and yet appear entirely complete, ex¬
cept that the small black spot, which comes afterwards
to be the rudiments of the chick, is not here to be ob¬
served.
TABLE of the ProportionarNumber of Ribs and Vertebra: in various species
of Birds.
Spxoies.
Vultur. Vulture,
Falco fulvus. Eagle,
—— haliaetus. Bald buzzard,
 buko. Buzzard,
■  nisus. Sparrow hawk,
—— milvus. Kite,
Slrix ulula. Owl,
Muscicapa grisola. Fly-catcher,
Turdus merula. Black-bird,
Tanagra taldo. Tanagra,
Cos'vus cor one. Crow,
- — pica. Magpie,
■   glandarius. Jay, -
Sturnus vulgaris. Starling,
Loxia coccothraustes. Grosbeak,
—— pyrrhufa. Bullfinch,
Fringilla domestica. Sparrow,
  carduelis. Goldfinch,
Parus major. Titmouse,
Alauda arvensis. Lark,
Veiteb.
of
Neck.
13
14
11
11
12
11
10
11
10
*3
J3
12
10
10
10
9
11
11
11
Verteb.
of
Back.
7
8
8
7
8
8
8
8
8
8
8
8
7
8
7
6
9
8
8
A.nter.
false
Ribs.
True
Ribs.
Poster.
false
Ribs.
N° of
Ribs.
Sacral
V erteb.
II
I7
11
10
11
11
11
10
10
9
13
!3
11
10
12
11
10
11
11
10
Coccyg.
Verteb.
TABLE
304
Of Reptiles.
ANATOMY.
TABLE, &c. continued.
Species.
Verteb.
of
Neck.
Yerteb.
of
Back.
Anter.
false
Ribs.
True
Ribs.
Poster
false
Ribs.
N° of
Ribs.
Sacral
Verteb.
Coccyg.
Verteb
Motacilla rubecula. Redbreast,
Hirundo urbica. Swallow,
Caprimulgus europceus. Goatsucker,
Trochilus pella. Topaz humming-bird,
Upupa epops. Hoopoe,
Alcedo ispida. King’s fisher,
Ficus viridis. Woodpecker,
Ramphastos. Toucan, - - .
Psittacus crithacus. Parrot,
Columba ocnas. Stockdove,
Pavo cristatus. Peacock,
Phasianus colchicus. Pheasant,
Meleagris gallo-pavo. Turkey,
Crux nigra. Curassow bird. Hoceo,
Struthio camelus. Ostrich,
 causarius. Cassawary,
Phccnicoptcrus. Flamingo,
Ardea cinerea. Heron,
 alba. Stork, -
 grus. Crane, - - .
Platalea a'idia. Spoonbill,
Recurvirostra. Avoset,
Charadrius pluvialis. Plover,
Tnnga vanellus. Lapwing,
Scolopax rusticata. Woodcock,
 arquota. Curlew,
Hcematopus ostralegws. Oyster-catcher,
Rallus crex. Rail,
Fulica atra. Coot, - - -
Parra. Jacana,
Pelicanus onocratalus. Pelican,
— " ■ — carbo. Cormorant,
Sterna hirundo. Sea swallow,
Procellaria. Petril, - . _
Anas cygnus. Swan,
—— anser. Goose,
—    bernicla. Bernacle,
— ■ boschas. Duck, -
 tadorna. Sheldrake,
——— nigra. Black diver,
Mergus merganser. Merganser,
Colymbus cristatus. Grebe, -
10
11
11
12
12
12
12
12
12
13
14
J3
15
18
J5
18
18
*9
*9
J7
14
T5
J4
18
J3
12
J3
15
T4
16
16
H
M
23
J5
18
14
16
15
15
I4
8
8
8
9
7
7
8
8
9
7
7
7
7
8
8
11
7
7
7
9
7
9
8
8
7
8
9
8
9
8
7
9
8
8
it
10
10
8
11
9
8
10
6
11
7
8
9
11
10
11
11
9
10
8
10
12
11
13
12
10
10
20
I9
12
10
11
12
x4
10
10
10
13
10
*5
x3
7
12
x4
x4
10
? ?
x4
x4
x4
x5
11
x4
x3
x3
8
9
8
8
7
7
9
7+
8
7
8
5
5
7
9
7
7
7
8
7
8
8
7
7
8
8
o
8
8
7
7
8
8
8
8
7
9
8
9
7
7
7
CHAP. VI. ANATOMY OF REPTILES.
Sect. I. Of Reptiles in general.
These animals, like the fishes, have their blood near¬
ly of the same temperature with the element in which
they live. They have indeed a lung, and respire air j
but their pulmonary vessels are only branches of the
large general artery and vein, and do not, as in the hot-
blooded animals, form a peculiar system equal to the
vascular system of the rest of the body.
With respect to their organs of motion, reptiles may
be divided into two orders. In the one, the serpents,
the body is cylindrical and entirely without limbs : their
motion is a kind of writhing or creeping.
The others have four feet very similar in structure
to those of the mammalia, whence these animals have
been called oviparous quadrupeds. Such of them as
live in the water have frequently membranes be¬
tween their toes, which they employ like the fins of
fishes for swimming. One species has a kind of mem-
* branaceous
Chap. VI. A N A T
3f Reptiles.brarmeeous wings. We know two species which are
w—Y——' called bipedal reptileSy which are only distinguished
from serpents, in having two very small feet. In the
whole class the feet are so short, and so close to the body,
that they are not unaptly termed reptiles or creeping
animals. .
Their eyes are large and fiery, and are furnished
with three lids. Their ear has neither concha nor
external passage, and its tympanum lies flat to the
head, and is often covered with scales or flesh : inter¬
nally it has only one little bone composed of a plate
furnished with a sort of handle. In some species the
tympanum and its little bone are entirely wanting, as
also the cochlea; but they have all semicircular canals,
and a vestibule. Their nostrils are generally small.
In the serpents, whose tongue is almost horny, the
sense of taste cannot be very exquisite, but in the other
species where the tongue is softer it may be pretty
acute.
Their skin is naked or covered with scales. The
tortoises are remarkable for being covered with a kind
of buckler.
Some species of oviparous quadrupeds have six toes.
Serpents exercise the sense of touch by wrapping their
body round the object which they desire to feel.
The brain of reptiles is very small, and divided into
very distinct tubercles. Their sensation seems less to
depend on a common centre than in the other animals
which we have been considering, as they can live for
a long time without the head, and after being depri¬
ved of the heart and all the viscera their limbs when
separated from the body preserve their irritability for
a considerable time } the heart of a frog will beat for
many hours after it has been cut out. Reptiles have
also a considerable power of reproduction. The tail
of a lizard and several parts of water salamanders will
grow again after being cut olf. The jaws in these ani¬
mals are for the most part armed with teeth which are
conical and pointed, but some of them have only fleshy
or horny gums. Their alimentary canal is but small,
and has no caecum, but it receives fluids similar to those
of the hot-blooded animals. The urine, which is secre¬
ted by the kidneys, is received into a bladder, but is
evacuated by the anus.
Their heart has only one ventricle, from which pro¬
ceeds a single artery divided into two large branches,
which furnish each a twig to the lung of that side,
and are then united to be distributed to the other parts
of the body. Hence these animals can at pleasure
suspend respiration without stopping the circulation of
the blood, so that they can remain a long time under
water, or in a close vessel. The cells of the lungs are
much larger than in the hot-blooded animals} and
these organs resemble oblong bags, which float in the
same cavity with the other viscera, without the inter¬
position of a diaphragm. Some of these animals have
the power of inflating their lungs to a great extent.
They have a windpipe and a larynx, by which they can
produce sounds as in other animals which are provided
with nerves.
The females of reptiles have a double receptacle for
eggs, furnished with two tubes, which open at the
anus. In some species copulation takes place, and
the eggs are covered with a shell more or less hard.
Vol. II. Part I. t
305
O M Y.
In others the male merely sprinkles with semen the Of Reptiles’
eggs already laid, and these are merely covered with * 1 v  
a membrane. Reptiles, no more than other animals
with cold blood, have the power of hatching their
eggs.
Sect. II. Tortoise.
23 I
The covering of this animal is composed of a shell Their shell
so remarkably hard and firm in its texture, that a load-^ covenn^’
ed waggon may go over it without hurting the shell or1
the animal within it. In the young animal, this shell
grows harder in proportion as its contents expand ; and
this creature never changes its shell as some others doj
hence it was necessary for it to be made up of dif¬
ferent pieces j and these are more or less distinct in dif¬
ferent animals. Their feet are small and weak j and
they are exceedingly slow in motion.
It has neither tongue nor teeth ; to make up for
which, their lips are so hard as to be able to break al¬
most the hardest bodies.
The alimentary canal very much resembles that of
the former class.
The principal difference is in the circulation of the
blood. The heart has two distinct auricles, without
any communication ; and under these there is the ap¬
pearance of two ventricles similar in shape to those of
the former class: but they may be considered as one
cavity j for the ventricle sends out not only the pul¬
monary artery, but likewise the aorta \ for there is a
passage in the septum, by which the ventricles com¬
municate freely, and the blood passes from the left
into the right one. From the aorta, the blood re¬
turns into the right auricle, while that from the pulmo¬
nary artery returns to the left auricle, from which
it is sent to the left auricle, &c. so that only a part
of the blood is sent to the lungs, the rest going im¬
mediately into the aorta; hence the animal is not un¬
der the necessity of breathing so often as otherwise it
would be. 2gj
From the base of the right ventricle goes out the Blood-ves-
pulmonary artery and aorta. The pulmonary artery sel®'
is spent upon the lungs. The aorta may be said to be
three in number j for the aorta sinistra ascends through
the pericardium in company with the pulmonary ar¬
tery ; and afterwards turns down, and sends off a con¬
siderable branch, which splits into two •, one of which
joins the right aorta, while the other is distributed
upon the liver, stomach, intestines, &c. What re¬
mains of this aorta runs to the kidneys or posterior ex¬
tremities of that side. An aorta descendens, &c.
after piercing the pericardium, runs dowm and com¬
municates with the branch already mentioned, is dis¬
tributed upon the right kidney and inferior extremity,
and also upon the bladder and parts of generation.
An aorta ascendens, after getting out of the pericar¬
dium, supplies the fore-legs, neck, and head. The
blood in the superior part of the body returns to the
right auricle by two jugular veins, which unite after
perforating the pericardium. From the inferior part
it returns to the same auricle by two large veins j
one on the right side receives the blood in the right
lobe of the liver ; the other on the left side receives
the blood in the left lobe, and also a trunk which
Q q corresponds
3°6
Of Fishes, cprrespomls with the inferior vena cava in other ani-
1 v~" ■' nials. The pulmonary vessels run in the left auricle in
the common way.
The absorbent system in the turtle, like that in the
former class, consists of lacteals and lymphatics, with
their common trunks the thoracic ducts $ but differs
from it in having no obvious lymphatic glands on any
part of its body, nor plexus formed at the termination
in the red veins.
Lacteals. The lacteals accompany the blood-vessels upon the
mesentery, and form frequent net-works across these
vessels : near the root of the mesentery a plexus is
formed, which communicates with the lymphatics
coming from the kidneys and parts near the anus. At
the root of the mesentery on the left side of the spine,
the lymphatics of the spleen join the lacteals j and im¬
mediately above this a plexus is formed, which lies
upon the right aorta. From this plexus a large branch
arises, which passes behind the right aorta to the left
side, and gets before the left aorta, where it assists in
forming a very large receptaculum, which lies upon
that artery.
From this receptaculum arise the thoracic ducts.
From its right side goes one trunk, which is joined by
• that large branch that came from the plexus to the left
side of the right aorta, and then passes over the spine.
Th is trunk is the thoracic duct of the right side ; for,
having got to the right side of the spine, it runs up¬
wards on the inside of the right aorta, towards the
right subclavian vein ; and when it lias advanced a
little above the lungs, it divides into branches, which
near the same place are joined by a large branch that
comes up on the outside of the aorta. From this part
upwards, those vessels divide and subdivide, and are
afterwards joined by the lymphatics of the neck, which
likewise form branches before they join those from be¬
low. So that between the thoracic duct and the lym¬
phatics of the same side of the neck, a very intricate
net-work is formed 5 from which a branch goes into
the angle between the jugular vein and the lower part
or trunk of the subclavian. This branch lies therefore
on the inside of the jugular vein, whilst another gets
Part II
to the outside of it, and seems to terminate in it, a of Fishes.
little above the angle, between that vein and the sub-1 j
clavian. 284
Into the above-mentioned receptaculum, the lym-Lympha-
phatics of the stomach and duodenum likewise enter.k03.
Those of the duodenum run by the side of the pan¬
creas, and probably receive its lymphatics and a part
of those of the liver. The lymphatics of the stomach
and duodenum have very numerous anastomoses, and
form a beautiful net-work on the artery which they
accompany. From this receptaculum likewise (besides
the trunk already mentioned, which goes to the right
side) arise two other trunks pretty equal in size •, one
of which runs upon the left side, and the other upon
the right side of the left aorta, till they come within
two or three inches of the left subclavian vein ; where
they join behind the aorta, and form a number of
branches which are afterwards joined by the lymphatics
of the left side of the neck j so that here a plexus is
farmed as upon the right side. From this plexus a
branch issues, which opens into the angle between the
jugular and subclavian vein.
Sect. III. Serpent and Crocodile.
285.
The circulation in these is similar to that of the Circulatio
turtle; but we find only one ventricle. The blood in serpen'
goes from the right auricle to the ventricle which sends S*0'
out the pulmonary artery and aorta ; the blood from
the pulmonary artery returns to the left auricle, that
from the aorta going to the right auricle, and both the
auricles opening into the ventricle.
Sect. IV. Frog and Lizard.
These differ from the former animals, in having
only one auricle and a ventricle: and besides, the
ventricle sends out a single artery, which afterwards
splits into two parts; one to supply the lungs, the
other runs to all the rest of the body: from the lungs
and from the other parts, the blood returns into the
auricle.
anatomy.
CHAP. VII. ANATOMY OF FISHES.
28G
Cuticula, OF these we may first observe, that they have a very
likeness to strong thick cuticle, covered with a great number of
the human. scajeg} ]ai{l one on another like the tiles of houses.
This among other arguments is supposed to prove the
human epidermis to be of a squamous structure : but the
scales resemble the hairs, wool, feathers, &c. of the
creatures that live in air; and below these we observe
their proper cuticula and cutis.
The generality of fishes, particularly those shaped like
the cod, haddock, &c. have a line running on each side.
These lines open externally by a number of ducts, which
throw out a mucous or slimy substance that keeps them
soft and clammy, and seems to serve the same purpose
with the mucous glands or ducts which are placed with¬
in many of our internal organs.
In the next place, these creatures have neither at¬
lantal nor sacral extremities, as quadrupeds and fowls;
3
for their progression is performed in a diflerent way Swimmu
from either of those species of animals: for this pur-howperJ
pose they are provided with machines, properly consist-
ing of a great number of elastic beams, connected tousesof
one another by firm membranes, and with a tail of the their fiir
same texture ; their spine is very moveable towards the tail, air-!
posterior part, and the strongest muscles of their bodies baSs>
are inserted there. Their tails are so framed as to
contract to a narrow space when drawm together to ei¬
ther side, and to expand again when drawn to a straight
line with their bodies; so, by the assistance ol this
broad tail, and the fins on their sides, they make their
progression much in the same way as a boat w'ith oars
on its sides and rudder at its stern. The perpendicular
fins situated on the superior part of their body keep
them in (equilibria, hindering the belly from turning
uppermost; which it would readily do, because of the
air-bag
Chap. VII.
Of Fishes, air-bag ia the abdomen rendering their helly specifi-
' v ' cally lighter than their back ; but by the resistance
these fins meet with when inclined to either side, they
are kept with their backs always uppermost.
It may be next observed, that these creatures have
nothing that can be called a nec/c, seeing they seek
their food in a horizontal way, and can move their bo¬
dies either upwards or downwards, as they have occa¬
sion, by the contraction or dilatation of the air-bag; a
long neck, as it would hinder their progression, would
be very disadvantageous in the element they live in.
In the bony fishes the bodies of the vertebrae are
sometimes cylindrical, sometimes angular, and fre¬
quently compressed : they are articulated only by their
bodies, as there are no articulatory processes. They
may be divided into two classes : those of the tail,
which are furnished with a spinous process both above
and below ; and those of the belly or back, which have
it only above. These last are usually furnished, at
307
the sides, with transverse processes for the attachment Of Fishes.
of the ribs. The spinous processes, both dorsal and ' v '
sternal, are very long, especially in flat fish. At the
base of the dorsal processes there is a canal for lodging
the spinal marrow 5 and the blood vessels pass through
a similar canal at the base of the sternoid processes.
There is nearly the same structure in the cartilaginous
fishes $ but in these all the cartilages are so firmly fix¬
ed together, that only the spinous processes can be di¬
stinguished. The vertebra of a fish differs from that of
other animals in the structure of its body, at each ex¬
tremity of which there is a conical cavity, so that be¬
tween each pair of vertebrae there is a hollow space
formed by these two cones joined base to base, filled
with a very soft cartilaginous or mucous substance on
which the motions of the vertebrae are easily perform¬
ed. The annexed table shows the proportional num¬
ber of vertebrae of several species of fish.
ANATOMY
TABLE of the Number of Vertebra in several species of Fishes.
Species.
Baia bates. Ray, - - -
Squalus. Shark, - - -
Accipenser sturio. Sturgeon,
Syngnathus acus. Sea-needle,
 hippocampus. Sea-horse,
Batistes, -
Ostracion quadricornis,
Murena anguilla. Eel,
Anarrhichas lupus. Sea-wolf,
Trachinus draco. Sea-dragon,
Uranoscopus. Uranoscope,
Gadus merlangus. Whiting,
Cottus scorpius. Sea-scorpion,
Armed trigla,
Red gurnard,
Flying trigla,
Echineis remora. Remora,
Plcuronectes platessa. Plaice,
Gasterosteus pungitius. Stickle-back,
Perea fluviatitis. Perch,
Zeus faber. Doree,
I
Trigla lor ic at a.
  cuculus.
   volitans.
—— vomer,
Chcvtodon cornu.
————— te'ira.
Cyprinus carpio.
  nasus.
Horned chaetodon,
Striped chaetodon,
Carp,
Clupea harengus. Herring,
Salmo rhombus. Rhomboid salmon,
Esox lucius. Pike,
 brasiliensis. Brasilian pike,
Silurusfetis. Sea-cat,
Loricaria. Armour-fish,
Fistularia tabaccaria. Tobacco-pipe fish,
Cervical
Vertebrce.
Ossified into
one piece.
Dorsal
Vertebrce.
24
*3
9
J7
8
12
J3
8
12
J3
70
21
9
10
9
9
l5
*9
38
12
35
34
12
6
59
Lumbar
Vertebrce.
Coccygian
Vertebrce.
80 -J-
10
50
3°
1S
32
!5
23
21
12
15
30
22
20
16
*3
12
12
16
19
18
20
20
!5
30
28
22
Total N° of
Vertebrce.
207
28
50 +
62
J3
llS
55
3i
41
44
44
36
Q q 2
The
3° 8
ANATOMY.
Part II
Of Fishes.
aSS
Cerebrum.
2S9
Organ of
smell.
290
Optic
nerve.
291
The cry¬
stalline hu¬
mour a
complete
sphere, and
why.
The brain in fishes is formed pretty much in the
same way as that of fowls ; only we may observe, that
the posterior lobes bear a greater proportion to the an¬
terior.
The organ of smelling is large j and they have a
power of contracting and dilating the entry into their
nose as they have occasion. It seems to be mostly by
their acute smell that they discover their food ; for their
tongue seems not to have been designed for a very nice
sensation, being of a pretty firm cartilaginous substance ;
and common experience evinces, that their sight is not
of so much use to them as their smell in searching for
their nourishment. If yon throw a fresh worm into the
water, a fish will distinguish it at a considerable distance j
and that this is not done by the eye, is plain from ob¬
serving, that after the same worm has been a consider¬
able time in the water, and lost its smell, no fishes
will come near it ; but if you take out the bait, and
make several little incisions into it, so as to let out more
of the odoriferous effluvia, it will have the same ef¬
fect as formerly. Now it is certain, that had the crea¬
tures discovered this bait with their eyes, they would
have come equally to it in both cases. In consequence
of their smell being the principal means which they
have of discovering their food, we may frequently ob¬
serve their allowing themselves to be carried down with
the stream, that they may ascend again leisurely against
the current of the water j thus the odoriferous par¬
ticles swimming in that medium, being applied more
forcibly to their smelling organs, produce a stronger sen¬
sation.
The optic nerves in these animals are not confounded
with one another in their middle progress betwixt their
origin and the orbit, but the one passes over the other
without any communication ; so that the nerve that
comes from the left side of the brain goes distinctly to
the right eye, and vice versa.
Indeed it would seem not to be necessary for the op¬
tic nerves of fishes to have the same kind of connec¬
tion with each other as those of man have : for their
eyes are not placed in the fore part, but in the sides of
their heads j and of consequence, they cannot so con¬
veniently look at any object with both eyes at the same
time.
The crystalline lens is here a complete sphere, and
more dense than in terrestrial animals, that the rays
of light coming from water might be sufficiently re¬
fracted.
As fishes are continually exposed to injuries in the
uncertain element in which they live, and as they are
in perpetual danger of becoming a prey to the larger
ones, it w-as necessary that their eyes should never be
shut ; and as the cornea is sufficiently washed by the
element they live in, they are not provided with pal-
pebrse : but then, as in the current itself the eye must
be exposed to several injuries, there was a necessity it
should be sufficiently defended $ which in effect it is by
a firm pellucid membrane, that seems to be a continua¬
tion of the cuticula, being stretched over here. The
epidermis is so very proper for this purpose, as being-
insensible and destitute of vessels, and consequently not
liable to obstructions, or, by that means, of becoming
opaque. In the eye of the skate tribe, there is a dit
gited curtain which hangs over the pupil, and may
shut out the light when the animal rests, and it is simi- Of Fishes,
lar to the tunica adnata of other animals.   v  
Although it was formerly much doubted whethtr 292
fishes possessed a sense of hearing, yet there can be pr^ns
little doubt of it now; since it is found that they *’
have a complete organ of hearing as well as other ani¬
mals, and likewise as the water in which they live is
proved to be a good medium. Fishes, particularly
those of the skate kind, have a bag at some distance
behind the eyes, which contains a fluid and a soft cre¬
taceous substance, and supplies the place of vestibule
and cochlea. There is a nerve distributed upon it,
similar to the portio mollis in man. They have three
semicircular canals, which are filled with a fluid, and
communicate with the bag: they have likewise, as
the present professor of anatomy at Edinburgh has
discovered, a meatus externus, which leads to the in¬
ternal ear. The cod fish, and others of the same
shape, have an organ of hearing somewhat similar to
the former : but instead of a soft substance contained
in the bag, there is a hard cretaceous stone. In this
kind of fish no meatus externus has been yet obser¬
ved : And Dr Monro is inclined to think that they
really have not one, from the consideration that the
common canal or vestibule, where the three semicircu¬
lar canals communicate, is separated from the cavity
of the cranium by a thin membrane only ; that this ca¬
vity, in the greater number of fishes, contains a watery
liquor in considerable quantity ; and that, by the
thinness of the cranium, the tremor excited by a so¬
norous body may readily and easily be transmitted
through the cranium to the water within it, and so to
the ear.
The belly is covered on the inferior part with a black-
coloured thin membrane resembling our peritoneum. It
is divided from the chest by a thin membranous parti¬
tion, which has no muscular appearance ; so that we
have now seen two different sorts of animals that have
no muscular diaphragm.
These creatures are not provided with proper Teeth, for
for breaking their aliment into small morsels, as the whatmadj
food they use is generally small fishes, or other animals
that need no trituration in the mouth, but spontaneous¬
ly and gradually dissolve into a liquid chyle. Their
teeth serve to grasp their prey, and hinder the creatures
they have once catched from escaping again. For the
same purpose, the internal cartilaginous basis of the
bronchi, and the two round bodies situated in the po¬
sterior part of the jaws, have a great number of tenter¬
hooks fixed into them, in such a manner as that any
thing can easily get down, but is hindered from getting
back. 1 be water that is necessarily taken in along
with their food in too great quantities to be received
into their jaws in deglutition, passes betwixt the inter¬
stices of the bronchi and the flap that covers them.
The compression of the water on the bronchi is of con¬
siderable use to the creature, as we shall explain by and
by.
The gullet in these creatures is very short, and Digestion
scarcely distinguisheef from their stomach, seeing their performed
food lies almost equally in both. The stomach is ofso!ely by 1
an oblong figure. There are commonly found smallmeilstruul1
fishes in the stomach of large ones still retaining their
natural form; but when touched, they melt down
into
2
Iiap.
' fishes.
*95
estina.
*97
nereas
id their
icts.
VII. ANA
into a jelly. From this, and the great quantity of li¬
quors poured into their stomachs, we may conclude,
that digestion is solely brought about in them by the
dissolving power of a menstruum, and that no tritura¬
tion happens there.
The guts in these animals are very short, making on¬
ly three turns j the last of which ends in the common
cloaca for the feces, urine, and semen, situated about
the middle of the inferior part of their bodies.
To what we call pancreas, some give the name of
intestinula cceca : it consists of a very great number of
small threads, like so many little worms, which all ter¬
minate at last in two large canals that open into the
first gut, and pour into it a viscous liquor much about
the place where the biliary ducts enter. That kind ot
pancreas formed of intestinula caeca is peculiar to a cer¬
tain kind of fishes; for the cartilaginous, broad, and
flat kind, as the skate, sole, flounder, &c. have a pan¬
creas resembling that of the former class of animals.
Their intestines are connected to the back-bone by a
j9S membrane analogous to a mesentery,
iver, gall- The liver is very large, of a whitish colour, and lies
adder, almost in the left side wholly, and contains a great deal
of fat or oil.
The gall-bladder is situated a considerable way from
their liver j and sends out a canal, the cystic duct,
which joins with the hepatic duct just at the entry in¬
to the gut. Some fibres being observed stretched from
the liver to the gall-bladder, but without any apparent
cavity, the bile was supposed not to be carried into
the gall-bladder in the usual way, but that it must ei¬
ther be secerned on the sides of the sac, or regurgitate
into it from the canalis choledochus. It is certain,
however, that hepato-cystic ducts exist in fish as well
as in fowls. This, for example, is very obvious in the
salmon, where large and distinct ducts run from the bi¬
liary ducts of the liver, and open into the gall blad¬
der.
The spleen is placed near the back-bone, and at a
se drawn place where it is subjected to an alternate pressure from
oni aua- jjie constriction and dilatation of the air-bag, which is
situated in the neighbourhood. Since, in all the dif¬
ferent animals we have dissected, we find the spleen
attached to somewhat that may give it a conquassation;
as in the human subject and quadrupeds, it is contigu¬
ous to the diaphragm j in fowls, it is placed betwixt
the back bone, the liver, and stomach j in fishes, it
lies on the saccus aerius j and since we find it so well
served with blood-vessels, and all its blood returning
into the liver, we must not conclude the spleen to be an
inutile pondus, only to serve as a balance to the animal
pro (eqiiilibrio, but particularly designed for preparing
30o the blood to the liver.
tlie heart The heai't is of a triangular form, with its base
la* but one dowinvards, and apex uppermost j which situation
Jiicle and ^ because 0f the branchice. It has but one auricle
le. eutri and one ventricle, because they want lungs 5 and one
great artery. The size of the auricle and that of the
J ventricle are much the same j the artery sends out
numberless branches to the branchiae or gills. And
what is rather curious, this artery, instead of support¬
ing all parts as in the frog, is distributed entirely up¬
on the gills •, every branch terminating there, and be¬
coming so extremely small as at last to escape the na¬
ked eye.
*99
pleen, its
3C9
a membranous diaphragm, Of Fishes.
T O M Y.
These creatures have
which forms a sac in which the heart is contained.  v— J
It is very tense, and almost perpendicular to the verte-
brae. ... . • r
The branchice lie in two large slits at each side ofxj,e bran_
their heads, and seems to be all they have that bears ehias, thei*
any analogy to lungs. Their form is semicircular: structure
thev have a vast number of red fibrillae standing outah 1 f
on each side of them like a fringe, and very much re¬
semble the vane of a feather. These branchiae are per¬
petually subjected to an alternate motion and pressure
from the water; and we may here remark, that we
have not found any red blood but in places subjected
to this alternate pressure. This observation will help
us in explaining the action of the lungs upon the
blood. Over these gills there is a large flap, allow¬
ing a communication externally j by which the water
they are obliged to take into their mouths with their
food finds an exit without passing into their stomach ‘7
it is owing to these flaps coming so far down that the
heart is said commonly to be situated in their heads.
The blood is collected again from the gills by a vast
number of small veins, somewhat in the same manner
as our pulmonary vein j but instead of going back to
the heart a second time, they immediately unite, and
form an aorta descendens, without the intervention of
an auricle and ventricle. Hence a young anatomist
may be puzzled to find out the power by which the
blood is propelled from the gills to the different parts
of the body j but the difficulty will be considerably
lessened when we consider the manner in which the
blood is carried through the liver from the intestines
in man and quadrupeds. The aorta in fishes sends off
branches which supply all the parts of the body ex¬
cepting the gills. From the extremity of those branch¬
es the blood returns to the heart somewhat in the same
manner as in the former class of animals ; only thgre
are two inferior venae cavae, whereas the former has
but one.
Absorbent Sijstem in Fishes. We shall take the had¬
dock as a general example ; for the other fishes, parti¬
cularly those of the same shape, will be found in gene¬
ral to agree with it. 303
On the middle of the belly of a haddock, immedi-Lymphatic
ately below the outer skin, a lymphatic vessel runs up-vessels,
wards from the anus, and receives branches from the
parietes of the belly, and from the fin below the anus *,
near the head this lymphatic passes between the two
pectoral fins ; and having got above them, it receives
their lymphatics. It then goes under the symphysis of
the two bones which form the thorax, where it opens
into a net-work of very large lymphatics, which lie
close to the pericardium, and almost entirely surrounds
the heart. This net-work, besides that part of it be¬
hind the heart, has a large lymphatic on each side,
which receives lymphatics from the kidney, runs upon
the bone of the thorax backwards ; and when it has
got as far as the middle of that bone, it sends off a
large branch from its inside to join the thoracic duct.
After detaching this branch, it is joined by the lym¬
phatics of the thoracic fins, and soon after by a lym¬
phatic which runs upon the side of the fish. It is form¬
ed of branches, which give it a beautiful penniform ap¬
pearance.
Besides these branches, there is another set deeper
which
ANATOM Y.
which accompanies the ribs. After the large lympha¬
tic has been joined by the above mentioned vessels, it
receives lymphatics from the gills, orbit, nose, and
mouth. A little below the orbit, another net-work,
appears, consisting in part of the vessels above describ¬
ed, and of the thoracic duct. This net-work is very
complete, some of its vessels lie on each side of the
muscles of the gills ; and from its internal part a trunk
is sent out, which terminates in the jugular vein.
The lacteals run on each side of the mesenteric ar¬
teries, anastomosing frequently across these vessels.
The receptaculum into which they enter is very large,
in proportion to them ; and consists at its lower part
of two branches, of which one lies between the duo¬
denum and stomach, and runs a little wray upon the
pancreas, receiving the lymphatics of the liver, pan¬
creas, those of the lower part of the stomach, and the
iacteals from the greatest part of the small intestines.
The other branch of the receptaculum receives the
lymphatics from the rest of the alimentary canal. The
receptaculum formed by these two branches lies on the
right side of the upper part of the stomach, and is
joined hy some lymphatics in that part, and also by
some from the sound and gall-bladder, which in this
fish adheres to the receptaculum. This thoracic duct
takes its rise from the receptaculum, and lies on the
right side of the oesophagus, receiving lymphatics from
that part ; and running up about half an inch, it di¬
vides into two ducts, one of which passes over the oeso¬
phagus to the left side, and the other goes straight
upon the right side, passes by the upper part of the
kidney, from which it receives some small branches,
and soon afterwards is joined hy a branch from the
large lymphatic that lies above the bone of the tho¬
rax, as formerly mentioned : near this part it likewise
sends off a branch to join the duct of the opposite side 5
and then, a little higher, is joined by those large lym¬
phatics from the upper part of the gills, and from the
fauces.
The thoracic duct, after being joined by these ves¬
sels, communicates with the net-work near the orbit,
where its lymph is mixed with that of the lymphatics
from the posterior part of the gills, and from the su¬
perior tins, belly, &c. and then from this net-work a
vessel goes into the jugular vein just below the orbit.
This last vessel, which may be called the termination
of the whole system, is very small in proportion to the
net-work from which it rises; and indeed the lympha¬
tics of the part are so large, as to exceed by far the size
of the sanguiferous vessels.
The tho racic duct from the left side, having passed
under the gullet from the right, runs on the inside of
the vena cava of the left side, receives a branch from
its fellow ol the opposite side, and joins the large lym¬
phatics which he on the left side of the pericardium,
aiid a part of those which lie behind the heart; and
afterwards makes, together with the lymphatics from
the gills, upper fins, and side of the fish, a net-work,
iron? which a vessel passes into the jugular vein of this
side. In a word, the lymphatics of the left side agree
exactly with those of the right side above described.
Another part of the system is deeper seated, lying be¬
tween the roots of the spinal processes of the back¬
bone. Fhis part consists of a large trunk that begins
from the lower part of the fish, and as it ascends re¬
Part I]
ceives branches from the dorsal fins and adjacent parts Of Fishes
of the body. It goes up near the head, and sends a 11  v—
branch to each thoracic duct near its origin.
The only organs of generation in this animal are two Organs of
bags situated in the abdomen uniting near the podex.Seneiati01
These in the male are filled with a whitish firm sub¬
stance called the nrilt% and in the female with an infi¬
nite number of little ova clustered together, of a red¬
dish yellow colour, called the roe. Both these at
spawning time we find very much distended ; whereas
at another time the male organs can scarcely be distin¬
guished from the female; nor is there any proper in¬
strument in the male for throwing the seed into the or¬
gans of the female, as in other -creatures. We shall
not take upon us to determine the way whereby the
female sperm is impregnated : but we find that the
spawn of frogs consists in the small specks wrapped up
in a whitish glutinous liquor: these specks are the ru¬
diments of the young frogs, which are nourished in
that liquor till they are able to go in search of their
food. In the same way, the ova of fishes are thrown
out and deposited in the sand, the male being for the
most part ready to impregnate them, and they are in¬
cubated by the heat of the sun. It is curious enough
to remark with what care they seek for a proper place
to deposite their ova, by swimming to the shallow,
where they can better enjoy the sun’s rays, and shun
the large jaws of other fishes. The river-fishes, again,
spawn in some creek free from the hazard of the impe¬
tuous stream. But whether this mixture be brought
about in fishes by a simple application of the genitals
to each other, or if both of them throw out their li¬
quors at the same time in one place, and thus bring
about the desired mixture, it is not easy to determine.
Spallanzani has found, that the eggs of frogs, toads,
and water newts, are not fecundated in the body of the
female ; that the male emits his semen upon the spawn
while it is flowing from the female ; and that the foe¬
tus pre-exists in the body of the female : but whether
impregnation takes place in the same manner in fishes,
he has not yet been able to determine, though he seems
to think it probable. These creatures are so shy, that
we cannot easily get to observe their way of copula¬
tion, and are consequently but little acquainted with
their natural history. Frogs, it is very evident, do not
copulate : at least no farther than to allow both sexes
an opportunity of throwing their sperm. Early in the
spring the male is found for some days in close contact
upon the back of the female, with his fore legs round
her body in such a manner that makes it very difficult
to separate them, but there is no communication. At
this time the female lays her spawn in some place that
is most secure, while the male emits his sperm upon
the female spawn. ^06
After raising up the black peritoneum in fishes, there The air-
comes in view an oblong white membranous bag, in bladder,
which there is nothing contained but a quantity
elastic air. This is the swimming-bladder: it lies close
to the back-bone ; and has a pretty strong muscular
coat, whereby it can contract itself. By contracting
this bag, and condensing the air within it, they can
make their bodies specifically heavier than water, and
so readily fall to the bottom ; whereas the muscular
fibres ceasing to act, tbe air is again dilated, and they
become specifically lighter than water, and so swim
abovei.
3°7
proces-
, or com-
nication
h the
itriculus
VIII. A N A T
above. Accortling to the different degrees of contrac¬
tion and dilatation of this bladder, they can keep high¬
er or lower m the water at pleasure. .Hence floundeis,
soles, raia or skate, and such other fishes as want this
sac, are found always grovelling at the bottom of the
water: it is owing to this that dead fishes (unless this
membrane has been previously broken) are found swim¬
ming a-top, the muscular fibres then ceasing to act,
and that with their bellies uppermost} for the back¬
bone cannot yield, and the distended sac is protiuded
into the abdomen, and the back is consequently hea¬
viest at its upper part, according to their posture.
There is here placed a glandular substance, containing
a good quantity of red blood ; and it is very probable
that the air contained in the swimming-bladder is de¬
rived from this substance. From the anterior, part of
the bag go out two processes or appendices, which, ac¬
cording to the gentlemen of the French academy, ter¬
minate0 in their fauces ; in a variety of other fishes we
O M Y. 3*1
find communications with some part of the alimeniaiy op iiolius*
canal, particularly the oesophagus and stomach. 1 ne ^ ca.
salmon has an opening from the fore end of the an-bag. v
into the oesophagus, which is surrounded by a kind of
muscular fibres. The herring has afunnel-hke passage
leading from the bottom of the stomach into the air¬
bag *, but it is not determined whether the air enters
the air-bag by this opening, or comes out by it : the
latter, however, seems to be the more probable opi¬
nion, as the glandular body is found in all fishes,
whereas there are several without this passage of com¬
munication. < 308
At the superior part of this bag there are other red-ure(,ers,
coloured bodies of a glandular nature, which are con-vesica
nected with the kidneys. From them the
down to their insertion in the vesica urinaria, which
lies in the lower part of the abdomen $ and the ure¬
thra is there produced, which terminates in the po-
dex»
CHAP. VIII. OF MOLLUSCA.
IN these animals the muscles or fleshy fibres are
white, and possessed of great irritability: they retain
the power of motion even after being cut into small
pieces ; and many parts of their body are capable of be¬
ing reproduced after being separated. Their external
surface is always moist, as there commonly exudes
from it a viscous fluid. It is extremely sensible, and
is furnished with organs called tentacula, which are ca¬
pable of being lengthened out or contracted, so as to
enable the animal to feel the better. It is uncertain
whether or not these animals possess the sensation of
smell, but if they do, the organ of this sense is pro¬
bably situated at the entrance of their pulmonary ves¬
sels. Many of them have eyes, and some appear to be
possessed of ears.
Their body is usually provided with, or at least part¬
ly enveloped by, a membranous covering. In many
this covering is more or less crustaceous, produced
from a calcareous juice exuding from the surface of the
animal, and forming a shell composed of one or more
pieces or valves. T he body of the animal is attached
to this shell by muscles, which enable it to retire with¬
in the valves, or to shut these together. These muscles
change their place, separating from one part, and grow¬
ing to another, so as always to preserve the same rela¬
tive position, notwithstanding the unequal growth of the
shell. Most of these animals are inhabitants of the sea 5
some of them reside in fresh water and some of tuein
reside entirely on land.
The mollusca may be divided into three orders,
l. The cephalopoda, so called because their feet, or at
least the organs with which they seize their prey, aie
situated in the head. Their body is in the foim oi a
sack, which, when the external covering is removed,
exhibits the appearance of a compact network of fleshy
fibres in three distinct layers. Of these the outermost
are placed lengthwise, the middle in a cross direction,
and the innermost in no regular order. By the various
actions of these fibres the sack of the animal is length¬
ened, contracted, bent, or twisted in various, dhections.
These animals are furnished below the skin of the
back with a solid body, which is for the most part ex¬
ceedingly elastic and transparent, and is sometimes fur¬
rowed longitudinally. In all the species of sepia or
cuttle-fish, except the S. octopus, which wants it, this
body is a sort of bone, formed of thin concentric plates,
separated by small columns, arranged so as to form a
quincunx. It is oval and lenticular, or thickest in the
middle.
The feet in this order are eight in number, and form
a circle round the mouth; they end in suckers, by
which the animal fixes itself to any substance, and are
furnished with numerous muscles, by which they are
moved in every direction. The other species of sepia
(except the octopus and the calmar), have, besides
these eight feet, two others which are longer and
smaller.
They have three hearts 5 their respiration is carried
on in the water by means of branchiae ; they have very
large eyes, and organs of hearing situated within the
head ; their stomach is very fleshy, so as to resemble
the gizzard of a fowl, and they have a very large liver.
They are also furnished with a peculiar gland for the
purpose of secreting an inky fluid, which, when they
wish to conceal themselves, they throw out, and thus
obscure the water round them.
2. The gasteropoda, which have upon the belly a
muscular plane, by the contraction of which they
creep upon the belly, as may be observed in the snail ;
and hence their name. rlhey have no heart j their
branchiae are situated sometimes within the body,
sometimes they surround the body, and are often on
the back : they are naked in the first case, and in the
others are covered with a kind of lid, and are of va.
rious forms. The common trunk of the blood-vessels
is subdivided for the purpose of distributing to the
branchiae the blood which has circulated through tnc
body. The most of this order are hermaphrodite, but
require reciprocal copulation. I here is almost alu ajs
situated near the matrix a bag, containing a fluid,
which
312
Of Cmsta which is generally thought to be the substance em-
eea, See. ployed by the ancients in the dyeing of purple ; the
’1 ""v 11 ' use of this fluid in these animals is unknown. The in¬
testines consist of a stomach more or less fleshy, and an
alimentary canal ; they have a very large liver, and a
•considerable number of them are provided with brain
and nerves.
3. The acephala, so called because they have no
heads. These animals are commonly contained within
two shells, and have their body entirely enveloped in
a membranaceous covering, which opens either in one
part or two j and to this covering, especially at that
part where the water enters, are attached the tentacu-
la, the only external organ of sensation which the ani-
Part ]J
mals of tjiis order appear to possess. Their organs of ofCrusJ
respiration are composed of large vascular laminee, si- cea, &:, j
tuated at the two sides, immediately beneath the eo- y~
vering; their heart is placed towards the back. The
stomach and great part of the intestinal canal passes
through the liver. Their mouth, which opens imme¬
diately into the stomach, is placed between the bran¬
chiae, at the orifice opposite to that by which the wa¬
ter enters, and round it are-placed four triangular bo¬
dies which appear to be tentacula. The brain, where
it is present, is placed between the branchise and the
intestinal canal. They appear to be all hermaphro¬
dites, and do not require copulation.
ANATOMY.
CHAP. IX. OF THE CRUSTACEA.
THE animals which compose this order have com¬
monly been ranked among the insects ; but we have
thought it better to separate them, as they are posses¬
sed of character by which they are sufficiently distin¬
guished. They have the body enveloped in a sort
of armour composed of several pieces or scales, and
are usually provided with a great number of jointed
limbs.
The head in these animals is immoveable, their prin¬
cipal motions being confined to the tail and feet. The
tail forms a considerable portion of the animal, and is
furnished with very large and strong muscles, by the
action of which the animal is enabled to leap and swim
with great celerity.
I heir feet are of different forms in the several species,
and also vary in number, and in some species answer
several very different purposes. What in these animals
is analogous to the brain, is a long knotted nervous
cord, from the knots of which the nerves are distri¬
buted to the body. Their eyes are hard and complex,
and are usually placed on a sort of footstalks, which
enable them to move with great facility in all direc¬
tions. They are furnished with feelex-s and antennae,
as we shall see in insects. Their organs of hearing
are vex-y impei’fect. They have a heart, and both an
arterial and a venous system of blood-vessels. They
breathe by means of branchiae. Their jaws are gene¬
rally numerous, very strong, and situated in a trans-
vei-se direction. They are of distinct sexes, and the
male has two penes.
CHAP. X. OF INSECTS.
AS under Entomology, now become a study so
fashionable, and which has been carried to a high de¬
gree of perfection, we propose to give a particular
account of the structure and economy of insects,
we shall at present only offer a short sketch of their
anatomy.
Insects differ from the former classes, by their bodies
being covered with a hard crust or scale, by their having
feelers or antennae arising from their head, and many of
them breathing the air through lateral poi’es. As to the
shape of their bodies, though it somewhat diffei’s from
that of birds, being in general not so sharp before to
cut and make way through the air, yet it is well adapt¬
ed to their manner of life. The base of their bodies
is not formed of bones, as in many other animals, but
the hard external covering sex-ves them for skin and
hone at the same time. Their feelers, beside the use
of cleaning their eyes, are a guard to them in their
walk or flight. Their legs and wings are well fitted
for their internal surface; but the latter vary so much
xn different insects, that from them naturalists have
given names to the several orders of the class. As
first, the
C oleoptera, or beetle tribe, which have a crustaceous
elytra or shell, that shuts together, and forms a longi¬
tudinal suture down their back.
Hcemiptera—as in cimex, cockroach, bug, &c. which
have the upper wings half crustaceous and half mem¬
branaceous ; not divided by a longitudinal suture, but
incumbent on each other.
Lepidoptera—as the butterfly, have four wings, co¬
vered with fine scales in the form of powder.
Neuroptera—as the dragon-fly, spring-fly, &c. have
four membranaceous transparent naked wings, generally
reticulated.
Hijmenoptera—as wasps, bees, &c. have four mem¬
branaceous wings, and a tail furnished with a sting.
Diptera—as the common house-fly, have only two
wings.
Aptera—as the scorpion, spider, &c. have no
wings.
The structure of the eye in many insects is a most
curious piece of mechanism. The outer part is re¬
markably hard, to guard against injuries ; and has com¬
monly a reticular appearance, or the whole may be
looked upon as an assemblage of smaller eyes ; but
whether they see objects multiplied before them, has
not yet been determined.
Linnaeus,
liap. XI.
Worms Linnseus, aad several others following him, deny the
Sic. existence of a brain in these creatures.
-v—^ Their ear has, been lately discovered to be placed at
the root of their antennae or feelers, and can be distinct¬
ly seen in some of the larger kinds.
They have a stomach, and other organs of digestion.
They have a heart and blood vessels, and circulation
is carried on in them somewhat as in the former class $
but the blood is without red globules } or, as naturalists
speak, is colourless. In some of the larger kind, when a
piece of the shell is broken, the pulsation of the heart is
seen distinctly, and that sometimes for several hours af¬
ter it has been laid bare.
Lungs. The existence of these by some has been
denied. But late experiments and observations show
that no species want them, or at least something simi¬
lar to them ; and in many insects, they are larger in
proportion than in other animals: in most of them they
lie on or near the surface of their body j and send out
lateral pores or tracheae, by which, if the animal is be¬
smeared with oil, it is instantly suffocated.
Generation. The same difference in sex exists in in¬
sects as in other animals, and they even appear more
disposed to increase their species ; many of them, when
become perfect, seeming to be created for no other
purpose but to propagate their like. Thus the silk¬
worm, when it arrives at its perfect or moth state, is
incapable of eating, and can hardly fly ; it endeavours
only to propagate its species : after which the male
immediately dies, and so does the female as soon as she
has deposited her eggs.
313
Besides those of the male and female, a third sex Of Worms,
exists in some insects, which we call neuter. As these &c.
have not the distinguishing parts of either sex, they 'f
may be considered as eunuchs or infertile. We know
of no instance of this kind in any other class of ani¬
mals j and it is only found among those insects
which form themselves into societies, as bees, wasps,
and ants: and here these eunuchs are real slaves, as
on them lies the whole business of the economy. No
hermaphrodites have as yet been discovered among in¬
sects.
Many have imagined that the generality of insects
were merely the production of putrefaction, because
they have been observed to arise from putrified sub¬
stances ; but a contx-ary opinion is now more genex-ally
adopted ; and it is pretty certain, that if putrid bo¬
dies be shut up in a close vessel, no insects are ever ge¬
nerated unless their ova have been originally deposited
there. They are oviparous animals, and lay their eggs
in places most convenient for the nourishment of their
young 5 some in water, others in flesh ; some in fruit
and leaves $ while others make nests in the earth or in
wood, and sometimes even in the hardest stone. The
eggs of all insects first become {larva') caterpillar, or
maggot $ from which they are changed into {pupa)
chrysalis or aurelia, so named from their being inclosed
in a case ; and these dying, or seeming to die, the
{imago) fly, or butterfly, or perfect state, succeeds j and
during each of these changes their appearance differs
wonderfully.
ANATOMY.
CHAP. XI. OF WORMS.
THE worms form a class in the system of Linni,
comprehending the mollusca, and the next assemblage
of which we are to speak, viz,, the Zoophytes, besides the
worms properly so called.
We have seen that insects in one part of their exist¬
ence appear in the state of larvse, or organized beings
resembling the common caterpillar or larva of the
butterfly. In some of these the organs of motion are
very perfect, and they are furnished with regular arti¬
culated members, provided with solid parts. From
these there is a gradation to the worms, which have
no feet, but move forwards either by means of bristles
or hairs fixed in the surface of their bodies, as in the
common earth-worm and the lumbricus of the intes¬
tines, or they are provided at each extremity with a
circular suckei*, as in the leech, by which they fasten
one end of their body to the surface on which they
are to move, and proceed forward by the contrac¬
tions of the muscular rings of which their body is
chiefly composed. Within their body is found a
white nervous cord. Those which inhabit the water
carry on respiration by means of membranaceous bran¬
chiae j in others there are pores or stigmata, analo¬
gous to the ti’acheae of insects j some of them are fur¬
nished with feelers. Of the most important of this
class, the worms which inhabit the intestines of other
animals, we propose to give a particular account in a
future article.
CHAP. XII. OF THE ZOOPHYTES.
THE zoophytes form the lowest class of animated
nature j and many of them bear so close a resemblance
to plants and minerals, that they would seem to be¬
long rather to these kingdoms than to that in which
modern naturalists have agreed to arrange them. The
mollusca possess organs of digestion, sensation, circula¬
tion, and respiration, and are furnished with viscera
not very unlike those of the vertebral animals. In-
Vol. II. Part I. t
sects form the next degree, which have no distinct
circulation, and very imperfect respiratory organs 5
but in them we see something like a brain, and well-
marked organs of sensation. We observe the same in
many worms, in most of which they probably exist.
But in the zoophytes there is no appearance of circu¬
lation ; there are no nerves, and no sensorium or com¬
mon centre of sensation $ there is but little appearance
R r of
3H
ANATOMY.
Part II.
Of of respiration, and often scarcely any thing which may
Zoophytes, be termed an organ of digestion. Every point of their
' Y'" ' body seems independently to attract nourishment, and
independently to possess the faculty of sensation ; hence
a resemblance to both animals and plants, may be pro- of
perly called "zoophytes; and the last, as resembling both Zoophytes,
plants and stones, may be called lithophytes. See Li- ' v “
THOPHYTES and Zoophytes. We have in this com-
the extreme degree of irritability, the great power of parative view of organized beings, purposely avoided
vitality and of reproduction, which we find in these giving any description of the anatomy of plants
animals. For propagation, they need only be cut in
pieces, and do not require a difference of sex or organs
of generation to preserve the species: They may be di¬
vided into two orders $ the first of which, as bearing
This
will be found to be copiously treated in the article ANA¬
TOMY, Vegetable, in the Supplement.
See also the articles Anatomy, Animal and Com¬
parative, in the Supplement.
INDEX.
ABDOMEN, _ N°8o
use of the vesicles
in, 272
Air-bladder in fishes, 305
Allantois in cows, 244
arguments for and against the
human, 245
Amnios in cows, 246
Amyg dais, 181
Anatomy, Comparative, 145
many advantages from the
study of, 146
helps to explain ancient wri¬
ters, 147
diversities of organization
in, considered, 148
Angiology, ' . 126
Animal motion, the simplest function
. _ 149
differences in the sensitive or¬
gans of an, 131
Aorta ascendens in dogs, 204
ascendens and descendens in a
cow, 236
Appendix vermiformis, 103
Arm, bones of the, 38
right, mechanical account of the
superior strength of, 205
Astragalus, 6 <-
B
Beaks, the variety in those of fowls, 255
Bile, 98
Birds, anatomy of, 246
wings, how furnished, * 247
wings of, why not placed in the
middle of the body, 248
covering of, 250
carnivorous, 262
Bladder, in dogs, 214
connexion of the, 215
why the human only partly
covered by the peritone¬
um, 2i6
a stimulus a principal cause
of the evacuation of the, 217
in cows, 237
Blood, circulation of, N0 128
nature of, 129
vessels of, in tortoises, 282
Bone, occipital, 14
Bones, composition of, 1
connexion of, 2
marrow, 5
parietal, 13
temporal, 15
Bourse noire in birds, 253
Brain, 132
integuments of, 133
parts of, 137
Branchice, 304
Breasts, . 113
Bursce mucosce, 8
structure of, compared
with the capsular li¬
gaments of the joints, 9
c
Capsulce atrabilariee,
Carpus,
Cartilages,
Cellular membrane.
Cerebrum,
Cerebellum,
in fishes,
Chest,
Chorion in cows,
Circulation, important distinctions in
the organs of,
Clavicula,
Coitus,
Colon,
Conception,
Cor in birds,
Cornua uteri in cows,
Cotyledones in cows.
Cow, history of, as a ruminant ani¬
mal,
has four stomachs,
names of the stomachs,
Cranium, bones of,
Crop in birds,
Crustacea,
Crystalline humour in fishes
plete sphere,
P-
com-
212
J4
3
83
*35
136
208
114
242
!54
46
224
194
112
270
240
243
228
229
230
11
256
312
291
Cuticula, N° 74
Cutis, 76
D
Deglutition, 107
Dejection, 123
D iaphragm, 118
in dogs, 206
in birds, 273
in fishes, 300
Digestion, 105
organs of, furnish us with
two great distinctions, 152
action of the organs of,
forms the chyle, 153
power of the organs of, 161
in fishes performed wholly
by a menstruum, 294
Dog, anatomy of, 160
brain of, 165
Ductus choledochus in birds, 266
Duodenum, 93
in a cow, 232
in birds, 259
E
Ear, 173
Epidermis, how it invests the internal
surface of all the cavities
and vessels of the human
body.
Epiglottis,
Eye in birds,
Extremities,
upper,
lower,
258
184
252
4.3
44
57
XI, 18
113
84
62
56
285
cuticula similar to the human, 286
uses of the fins, tail, air-bags,
&c. of, 287
teeth of, 293
heart of, has but one auricle
and one ventricle, 299
Foot,
Face, bones of the,
Foetus in utero,
Fat,
Fibida,
Fingers,
Fishes, anatomy of,
adex,
oof, N° 63
'ore-arm^ bones of, 50
'wh) peculiar mechanism in the toes
of, 249
><>§•, 285
G
Tail-bladder, 97
xeneration, differences in the organs
of, . 157
organs in the males of
birds, 277
organs in fishes, 304
xlands, synovial, 6
sebaceous, 77, 131
xlandulce renales, 100
Ulottis in dogs, 183
bullet in dogs, 186
H
lair, 82
YaW, bones of the, 53
bearing, 144
in birds, 254
in fishes, 292
Heart, and its auricles, 125
action of, and its auricles and
arteries, 127
in a dog, 202
in a cow, 235
Hernia, or rupture, whence the false
notion of, 219
Hunger, 106
I
laws, 179
Jejunum, 191
Ingluvies in birds, 263
Insects, p. 312
Integuments, common, and their ap¬
pendages, N° 73
Jntestina tenuia, 19 2
in a cow, 231
tenuia in birds, 261, 265
in fishes, 296
Intestines, 93
in dogs, 189
Kidneys, of the 101
in dogs, 209
in birds, 276
L
Lacteals in tortoises, 283
in fishes, 303
Leg, 60
right, mechanical account of the
superior strength of, 205
Ligaments, 7
Liver, 96
in a dog, 200
in a cow, 234
in birds, 268
gall-bladder, and the ducts in
fishes, 297
Lizard, 285
Lungs, 120
Lymphatic vessels, 109
system in birds, 275
ANATOMY.
Lymphatics in fishes, N° 302
in tortoises, 284
M
Mammae, 227
Man, whether a biped or a quadruped, 162
Mastication, 107
Maxilla inferior, 26
Mediastinum, 201
Medulla oblongata, 137
spinalis, 138
Membrana nictitans, 174
Mesentery, 94
in dogs, 196
Metacarpus, 55
Metatarsus, 70
Mollusca, p. 311
Mouth, form and position of the, N° 105
Muscles, 85
Musculus suspensorius, 175
N
Nails, 81
Nates and testes in dogs, 169
Neck, vertebrae of the, 31
of a dog, 178
Nerves, 139
Nose of a dog, 172
Nutrition, 130
O
Oesophagus, 92
Omentum, 96
in dogs, 187
Optic nerve in fishes, 290
Organization and functions, variations
which take place a-
mong, 157
instance of, 158
Organs, male, of generation, no
female, of generation, in
Os frontis, 12
sphenoides, 16
ethmoides, 17
hyoides, 28
sacrum, 34
coccyx, 35
ilium, 40
ischium, 41
pubis, 42
humeri, 49
femoris, 58
calcis, 66
naviculare, 67
cuboides, 68
Ossa malarum, 19
maxillaria superiora, 20
nasi, 21
unguis, 22
palati, 23
spongiosa inferior a, 25
cuneiformia, 69
sesamoidea, 7 2
P
Panci'eas, 95
asellii in dogs, 97
in birds, 266
in fishes, 296
315
Panniculus carnosus, whence the mo¬
tion of, N° 164
Papillae, 210
Pelvis, bones of the, 39
in quadrupeds, an
Penis, 223
Pericardium, 124
Periosteum, 4
Peritonaeum, 89
Perspiration, insensible, and sweat, 78
dispute whether these
are one and the same
or different excretions, 79
uses of, 80
Pleura, 116
Processus mamillaris, 168
Prostata, 22 5
Pulmones in birds, 271
Pupilla, 176
Q
Quadrupeds, cuticula, cutis, and pan¬
niculus carnosus in, 163
why most want clavicles, 165
falx of, 167
R
Radius, ^
Rectum in dogs, 91
Reptiles, 280
Respiration, of, 121
organs of, display striking
varieties, 133
and motion, relation between, 159
Rete mucosum, 73
mirabile galeni in dogs, 170
Ribs, 38
in dogs, 208
Rotula, cq
S
Scapula, 47
Scrotum, 226
Secretions, of, 131
Sensation, differences between the or¬
gans of, and those of re¬
spiration, 160
Senses, , 140
differences in the external, 151:
Serpents, circulation in, 285
Shoulder, 45
Skeleton, 10
Skin, 75
Smelling, 143
in birds, 251
in fishes, 289
Spine, 3®
Spleen, 99
in dogs, 199
in cows, 233
in birds, 267
in fishes, 298
Sternum, 37
in a dog, 207
Stomach, 96
in quadrupeds, 188
Swimming of fishes, how performed, 287
R r 2 Tapetuni)
3i 6
T
Tape turn, N° 177
Tarsus, 64
Taste, the sense of, 142
Teeth, 27
in dogs, 180
Testes, 222
Thirst, of, 106
Thymus, 117
Tibia, 61
Toes, 71
Tongue, 171
Tortoise, 281
shell and covering of the, ib.
Touch, sense of, 141
Trachea, 119
Trunk, bones of the, 29
Y
Vasa spermatica, 218
ANATOMY.
Veins, lacteal, N° 108
Velum pendulum palati in dogs, 182
Vena cava, 203
Ventriculus succenturiatus, sen infun¬
dibulum, in birds, 257, 264
its communication with the
air-bladder, 306
Vertebra of the back, 32
lumbar, 33
Vesica fellis in birds, 269
Vesiculce seminales, how the want of
them is supplied, 221
how supplied in birds, 280
Vis ifisita, 86
nervea, 8 7
Vision, 144
Vitellarium in birds, 278
Voice, 121
differences in the organs of, 136
Vomer,
U
Ulna,
Ureters,
in dogs,
in fishes,
Urinary bladder.
Urine,
Uterus in dogs,
in cows,
if thicker in time
tion,
in birds,
Uvula, the use of it in man,
W
Wind-pipe in birds,
Worms,
Z
Zoophytes,
Index,
N° 24
102
2I3
308
103
104
22(5
f . 239
ot gesta-
141
279
274
P-313
P-313
ANA
Anattom, ANATTOM, in Geography, the most southerly
Anaxago- island of the New Hebrides, in the southern Pacific
1 as' ocean. S. Lat. 20. 3. E. Long. 170. 4.
ANAXAGORAS, an eminent philosopher of an¬
tiquity, was born in the first year of the 70th Olym¬
piad, or 500 years before Christ. In consequence of
the eminent talents of this philosopher he obtained the
appellation of Mind. Pythagoras represents philosophers
as mere spectators of the affairs of human life, and who,
neglecting all other pursuits, devote their exertions to
the investigation of nature, and the search after wisdom.
According to this definition of a philosopher, Anaxago¬
ras strictly merited the honourable appellation $ for
though he was of a respectable descent, and possessed of
a considerable fortune, yet he relinquished both, so that,
in the language of Cicero, he might “ give himself
wholly to the divine pleasures of learning and inquiry.”
T.he sons of wealth, and the lovers of money, will pro¬
bably unite in the ridicule cast upon him by the age in
which he lived, even “ that he philosophized very fool¬
ishly j” but the mind of Anaxagoras disregarded their
scorn, and persevered in his plan 5 and although the
reader may hesitate in giving applause to the ma°n who
deprives society of the benefits of his social talent, yet
the eager thirst of his mind after knowledge is entitled
to becoming credit.
. Leaving his lands to be cultivated and enjoyed by
his friends, Anaxagoras placed himself under the care
of Anaximenes the Milesian. About the age of
twenty he went to Athens and entered upon the “study
of philosophy, where he continued 30 years. Some
suppose that he was the first disciple of the Ionian
school, founded by Thales a teacher of philosophy in
Athens. When Anaxagoras assumed the character
of a public teacher of philosophy, he quickly rose to
high eminence, ana produced many famous scholars
among whom were Euripides the tragedian, Pericles the
statesman, and the renowned Socrates. This philoso¬
pher contented himself with serving the republic in his
ANA
own station, without interfering in any of the public Anaxago.
affairs of the state. Both by the principles of wisdom ra*.
which he inspired into the minds of the Athenian youth, ‘ - » " ’
and also by his daily advice in the most important affairs,
particularly in the case of Pericles, he was of singular
service to his country. But neither the friendship of the
famous Pericles, nor his own general disinterestedness of
character, nor his immense stores of learning, could
ward off the shafts of persecution. Cleo accused him
of impiety, and the introduction of new opinions con¬
cerning the gods, because he taught that the sun was
a burning mass of stone, or an inanimate fiery sub¬
stance. By this opinion he was said to rob the sun of
his divinity, because in the popular opinion he was
deemed Apollo, one of the greatest deities. But al¬
though Cleo made religion the avowed cause of the
accusation of Anaxagoras, it is highly probable that
civil causes chiefly operated towards his condemna¬
tion. It is, however, abundantly evident, that he did
not hesitate to expose the vulgar superstitions on several
occasions ; but the evidence is not sufficient which pre¬
tends to prove that he was condemned for teaching the
doctrine of a supreme intelligence, the creator of this
w'orld. His judges condemned him to death 5 but
Pericles appearing in his defence, the sentence w'as
changed from that of death to banishment and a pecu¬
niary fine.
It is reported, that when one of his friends regretted
his exile, he replied : “ It is not I who have lost the
Athenians, but the Athenians who have lost me.”
Whilst a small degree of vanity appears in this senti¬
ment, it nevertheless informs posterity with what calm¬
ness of mind he endured the changes of fortune. But
other sayings tend more fully to unfold his character.
During the course of a lecture one day, he was inter¬
rupted with the unpleasant news of the death of a son j
he calmly replied, “ I knew that I begat him mor¬
tal.” When he received the sentence of condemna¬
tion, he consoled himself by this consideration; “ Na¬
ture,,
ANA [ 317 ] ANA
Vnaxa"0- ture» (sa‘^ ^ie) ^ong ag° pronouncei^ ^ie same sentence
ras. against me.”
—-v——' I^xpelled from Athens, Anaxagoras passed the re¬
mainder of his days at Lampsacus, teaching philosophy
in the school of his deceased master Anaximenes, until
the infirmities of nature terminated his useful life in
the year 428 before Christ. Before his death his
friends inquired if they should carry his bones to his
native city : he returned for answer, that this was quite
“ unnecessary, the rvay to the regions below is every¬
where alike open.” When the magistrates of Lamp¬
sacus sent a message to him before his death, requesting
to know in what manner he wished them to honour his
memory, he said, “ Only let the day of my death be
annually kept as a holiday by the boys in the schools of
Lampsacus.” This was complied with, and the cus¬
tom remained even in the time of Diogenes Laertius.
This great philosopher died at the advanced age of 72,
and the inhabitants of Lampsacus erected a tomb over
his remains, with the following epitaph.
EvSeede, irhetroi KMinug sth TFi^trcii
Ov^uvtu Korpv, Ketrca Avx^xyo^»{.
This tomb great Anaxagoras confines,
Whose mind explor’d the paths of heavenly truth.
It is also reported, that there was an altar erected to
his memory, upon which were inscribed the words Truth
and Mind.
Many fabulous reports are narrated concerning this
philosopher, of which it appears unnecessary to take
any particular notice; and Diogenes Laertius has col¬
lected with little care and judgment, after an interval
of more than 700 years, the remains concerning this
philosopher, which were scattered through various
writings. With no small degree of diffidence then the
pen must record a summary of his doctrine collected
from such unsatisfactory information 5 especially since
his biographer himself has given full proof both ol his
ignorance and negligence, and as the whole narrative
abounds with chronological contradictions and other in¬
consistencies.
It appears, however, that in the midst of some ex¬
travagant conceptions Anaxagoras held opinions which
indicate a considerable acquaintance with the laws of
nature. His idea of the heavens appears to have been,
that they were a solid vault, originally composed of
stones, elevated from the earth by the violent motion
of the ambient aether, inflamed by its heat, and by the
rapid circular motion of the heavens fixed in their re¬
spective places. The testimonies of several writers,
among which is that of the respectable Xenophon, unite
in proving that he considered the sun to be a large
fiery stone j and Xenophon introduces Socrates as re-
• futing that doctrine, and delivering an unfavourable
opinion concerning his other writings. From his per¬
ceiving that the rainbow is the effect of the reflection
of the solar rays from a dark cloud, and that wind is
produced by the rarefaction, and sound by the percus¬
sion of the air, Anaxagoras seems to have paid consi¬
derable attention to the phenomena of nature. He must
have had some knowledge of the nature ol the atmo¬
sphere, and the doctrine of eclipses, if, according to re¬
port, he could predict a fall of rain and darkness at
noonday.
Our information is more correct concerning his opi- Aaaxago
nions of the principles of nature and the origin of things. ras
He imagined that in nature there are as many kinds of '
principles as there are species of compound bodies, and <
that the peculiar form of the primary particles of which
any body is composed, is the same with the quality of
the compound body itself. For instance, he supposed
that a piece of gold is composed of small particles which
are themselves gold, and a bone of a great number of
small bones j thus, according to Anaxagoras, bodies of
every kind are generated from similar particles. That
part of his system is more agreeable to reason which ex¬
plains the active principle in nature. According to
Diogenes Laertius, Anaxagoras taught, that “ the
universe consists of small bodies composed of similar
parts, and that mind is the beginning of motion.”
“ He was the first, (says the same writer) who super-
added mind to matter, opening his work in this pleas¬
ing and sublime language: “ All things were confus¬
ed ; then came mind, and disposed them in order.”
Plato informs us that this philosopher taught the exist¬
ence of a disposing mind, the cause of all things. An¬
axagoras, according to Aristotle, taught that mind was
“ the cause of the world, and of all order; and that
while all things else are compounded, this alone is pure
and unmixedand that “ he ascribes to this principle
two powers, to know and to move, saying, that mind
put the universe into motion.” Cicero expressly as¬
serts, that Anaxagoras was the first who taught, that
“ the arrangement and order of all things was contrived
and accomplished by the understanding and power of an
infinite mind.” {Gen. Biog.).
ANAXARCHUS, a Grecian philosopher, who li¬
ved under Philip of Macedon and Alexander, was bom
in Abdera, and belonged to the sect generally known
by the name of the Eleatic. He is said to have been
conducted in the progress of his early studies by the
skilful hands of Diomenes of Smyrna and Metrodorus
of Chios. He had the honour to be a companion of
Alexander; and a few anecdotes transmitted to poste¬
rity concerning him render it evident that he treated
him with the usual freedom of a friend. This philo¬
sopher candidly checked the vain glory of Alexander
(when elated with pride he aspired to the honours of
divinity), by pointing to his finger when it bled, say¬
ing, “ See the blood of a mortal, not of a god.” It is
likewise reported, that, on another occasion, while in¬
dulging immoderately at a banquet, he repeated a verse
from Euripides, reminding Alexander of his mortality.
It is, however, to be regretted, that the fidelity .of the
philosopher was wanting at the time when the mind
of Alexander was tortured with remorse at having slain
his friend Clitus ; for it is reported that he, on that oc¬
casion, endeavoured to soothe the agitated mind of A-
lexander, by saying, that “ kings, like the gods, could
do no wrong.” It is reported that Nicocreon, king
of Cyprus, exposed him to the torture of being pound¬
ed in a mortar, and that he endured this torture with
incredible patience ; but as the same fact is reported
of Zeno the Eleatic, there is reason to. suppose that it
is fabulous ; and it may be added, that this narrative
is inconsistent with the general character of Anaxar-
chus, who, on account of his easy and peaceable life,
received the appellation of “ The lortunate.” {Gen*
Biog.).
ANAXIMANDER.,
ANA [ 318 ] A N C
ANAXIMANDER, a famous Greek philosopher,
born at Miletus in the 42d Olympiad, in the time of
Polycrates tyrant of Samos. He was the first who pub-
licly taught philosophy, and wrote upon philosophical
subjects. He carried his researches into nature very
far for the time in which he lived. It is said, that he
discovered the obliquity of the zodiac, was the first
who published a geographical table, invented the gno¬
mon, and set up the first sun-dial in an open place at
Lacedremon. He taught, that infinity of things Was
the principal and universal element j that this infinite
always preserved its unity, hut that its parts underwent
changes 5 that all things came from it; and that all
were about to return into it. According to all appear¬
ance, he meant by this obscure and indeterminate prin¬
ciple the chaos of the other philosophers. He asserted,
that there is an infinity of worlds j that the stars are
composed of air and fire, which are carried in their
spheres, and that these spheres are gods ; and that the
earth is placed in the midst of the universe, as in a
common centre. He added, that infinite Worlds were
the product of infinity, and that corruption proceeded
from separation.
ANAXIMENES, born at Miletus, an eminent
Greek philosopher ; friend, scholar, and successor of
Anaximander. He diffused some degree of light upon
the obscurity of his master’s system. He made the first
principle of things to consist in the air, which he con¬
sidered as immense or infinite, and to which he ascribed
a perpetual motion. He asserted, that all things which
proceeded from it were definite and circumscribed 5
and that this air, therefore, was God, since the divine
power resided in it and agitated it. Coldness and moi¬
sture, heat and motion, rendered it visible, and dressed
it in different forms, according to the different degrees
of its condensation. All tfie elements thus proceed
from heat and cold. The earth was, in his opinion,
one continued flat surface.
Anaximenes, a Greek historian and rhetorician,
was born at Lampsacus about 580 years before Christ.
Diogenes, the Cynic, laid the principles of erudition in
the mind of this great man. Some writers ascribe to
him, “ A Treatise on the Principles of Rhetoric,” which
bears the name of Aristotle j and it is reported that
Philip of Macedon invited him to his court to instruct
his son Alexander in that science. Alexander was at¬
tended in his expedition against Persia by this learned
philosopher and many other eminent men. The inha¬
bitants of the city, which had the honour to give him
birth, having espoused the cause of Darius, upon Alex¬
ander’s conquering them, they entreated their country¬
man Anaximenes to intercede with Alexander in their
behalf. He humanely undertook to interpose for them }
but the king being informed of his intention, as soon
as he came into his presence, swore that he would
grant him nothing that he should ask. He instantly
replied, “ I entreat you to destroy Lampsacus, to burn
its temples, and to sell the inhabitants for slaves.” Alex¬
ander, struck with this dexterous reply, kept his word
and saved the city.
Another pleasing anecdote is related of Anaxime¬
nes. For some unrecorded cause, he being displeased
with the historian Theopompus, in order to revenge
himself, wrote a severe satire against the Spartans and
Thebans, in a stile exactly similar to that of Theo-
3
pompus, and under his name addressed it to the Athe- Anaxlme^
nians. Theopompus was generally believed to be the nes
author of that work, and consequently it brought upon 11
him the odium and indignation of all Greece. Whilst Arice^tQn(
this action afforded an illustrious proof of the strength
of his talents, it afforded an equal evidence of the qua¬
lity of his heart. The history of Philip, of Alexander,
and likewise twelve books on the early history of Greece,
were the productions of his pen, but are now unfortu¬
nately lost. (Gen. Biog.').
ANAXIMANDRIANS, in the history of philoso¬
phy, the followers of Anaximander, the most ancient of
the philosophical atheists, who admitted of no other sub¬
stance in nature but matter.
ANAZARBUS (Pliny), Anazarba (Stephanus) $
a town of Cilicia, on the river Pyramus, the birth¬
place of Dioscorides, and of the poet Oppian. It
was sometimes called Ccesarea, in honour either of
Augustus or of Tiberius. The inhabitants are called
Ana%arbeni (Pliny), and on coins Ana%arbeis after
the Greek idiom. It was destroyed by a dreadful
earthquake in the year 525, along with several other
important cities: but they were all repaired at a vast
expence by the emperor Justin ; who was so much af¬
fected with their misfortune, that putting off the dia¬
dem and purple, he appeared for several days in sack¬
cloth.
ANBERTKEND, in the eastern language, a cele¬
brated book of the Brachmans, wherein the Indian phi¬
losophy and religion are contained. The word in its
literal sense denotes the cistern wherein is the water of
life. The anbertkend is divided into 50 beths or dis¬
courses, each of which consists of 10 chapters. It has
been translated from the original Indian into Arabic,
under the title of Morat al Maani, q. d. “ the marrow
of intelligence.”
ANCARANO, a town of Italy, in the marquisate
of Ancona. E. Long. 14. 54. N. Lat. 42. 48.
ANCASTER, a town of Lincolnshire, situated in
W. Long. 30. N. Lat. 52. 30. It gives title of duke
to the noble family of Bertie.
ANCENIS, a town of France in the department of
the Lower Loire. W. Long. 1. 9. N. Lat. 47. 20.
ANCESTORS, those from whom a person is de¬
scended in a straight line. The word is derived from
the Latin ancessor, contracted from antecessor, q. d.
“ goer before.”
Most nations have paid honours to their ancestors.
It was properly the departed souls of their forefathers
that the Romans worshipped under the denominations
of lares, lemures, and household gods. Hence the an¬
cient tombs were a kind of temples, or rather altars,
whereon oblations were made by the kindred of the
deceased.
The Russians have still their anniversary feasts in
memory of their ancestors, which they call roditoli sa¬
bot, q. d. “ kinsfolk’s sabbath 5” wherein they make
formal visits to the dead in their graves, and carry them
provisions, eatables, and presents of divers other kinds.
They interrogate them, with loud lamentable cries,
what they are doing; how they spend their time \
what it is they want \ and the like.
The Quojas, a people of Africa, offer sacrifices of
rice and wine to their ancestors before ever they un¬
dertake any considerable action. The anniversaries of
their
A N C [31
their deaths are always kept by their families with
great solemnity. The king invokes the souls of his
father and mother to make trade flourish and the chase
succeed.
The Chinese seem to have distinguished themselves
above all other nations in the veneration they bear
their ancestors. By the laws of Confucius, part of
the duty which children owe their parents consists in
worshipping them when dead. This service, which
makes a considerable part of the natural religion of
the Chinese, is said to have been instituted by the em¬
peror Kun, the fifth in order from the foundation of
that ancient empire. Bibl. Un. torn. vii. The Chinese
have both a solemn and ordinary worship which they
pay their ancestors. The former is held regularly twice
a year, viz. in spring and autumn, with much pomp.
A person who was present at it gives the following ac¬
count of the ceremonies on that occasion : The sacri¬
fices were made in a chapel well adorned, where there
were six altars furnished with censers, tapers, and
flowers. There were three ministers, and behind them
two young acolites. The three former went with a pro¬
found silence, and frequent genuflexions, towards the
five altars, pouring out wine: afterwards they drew
near to the sixth, and when they came to the foot of
the altar, half bowed down, they said their prayers
with a low voice. That being finished, the three mi¬
nisters went to the altar; the officiating priest took up
a vessel full of wine, and drank j then he lifted up the
head of a deer or goat; after which, taking fire from
the altar, they all lighted a bit of paper: and the mi¬
nister of the ceremonies turning towards the people,
said with a loud voice, That he gave them thanks in
the name of their ancestors for having so well honoured
them; and in recompense he promised them, on their
part, a plentiful harvest, a fruitful issue, good health,
and a long life, and all those advantages that are most
pleasing to men.
The Chinese give their ancestors another simpler
and more private worship. To this end they have in
their house a niche or hollow place, where they put
the names of their deceased fathers, and make prayers
and offerings of perfumes and spices to them at cer¬
tain times, with bowing, &c. They do the like at
their tombs.
The Jews settled in China are said to worship their
ancestors like the heathens, and with the same cere¬
monies, except that they offer not swines flesh. Near
their synagogue they have a hall, or court of ancestors,
wherein are niches for Abraham, Isaac, &c. 1 he Je¬
suits also conformed, and were permitted by their ge¬
neral to conform to this and many other superstitious
customs of the Chinese.
There is one peculiarity of another kind, wherein
the Chinese show their regard for their ancestors ; in
proportion as any of their descendants are preferred
to a higher degree of dignity, their dead ancestors are
at the same time preferred and ennobled with them.
The kings Ven Van, Veu Van, and Chen Cum, who
were descended from vassal kings, when they mounted
the imperial throne, raised their ancestors from the
vassal or depending state wherein these had lived to
the dignity of emperors ; so that the same honours
were for the future rendered them as if they had been
emperors of China. The same example was followed
9 ] A N C
by the subsequent kings, and now obtains among the Ancestor*
grandees and literati: all now worship their ancestors, {!
according to the rank which they themselves hold Anchor.
in the world. If the son be a mandarin, and the fa¬
ther only a doctor, the latter is buried as a doctor, but
sacrificed to as a mandarin. The like holds in degra¬
dations, where the condition of the fathers is that of
their sons.
ANCHILOPS, ayicvAij, contraction, and eye,
in Medicine, denotes an abscess, or collection of mat¬
ter, between the great angle of the eye and the nose.
If suffered to remain too long, or unskilfully managed,
it degenerates, the stagnating humours corrupt, and
an ulcer is produced. When the tumour is broke, and
the tears flow involuntarily, whilst the os lachrymale is
not carious, it is an cegylops; but when the ulcer is of
a long standing, deep, fetid, and the os lachrymale be¬
comes carious, it is a fistula. The cure is by restric¬
tion and excision, tying it at the root on the glandula
lachrymalis, and, when ready, cutting it off. See Sur¬
gery Index.
ANCHISES, in fabulous history, a Trojan prince,
descended from Dardanus, and the son of Capys.
Venus made love to him in the form of a beautiful
nymph; and bore him ^iEneas, the hero of Virgil’s
.ZEneid.
ANCHOR (anchora, Lat, from Greek), a
heavy, strong, crooked instrument of iron, dropped
from a ship into the bottom of the water, to re¬
tain her in a convenient station in a harbour, road, or
river.
The most ancient anchors are said to have been of
stone ; and sometimes of wood, to which a great quan¬
tity of lead was usually fixed. In some places, baskets
full of stones, and sacks filled with sand, were employ¬
ed for the same use. All these were let down by cords
into the sea, and by their weight stayed the course of
the ship. Afterwards they were composed of iron,
and furnished with teeth, which being fastened to the
bottom of the sea, preserved the vessel immoveable ;
whence e^avruj and dentes are frequently taken for an¬
chors in the Greek and Latin poets. At first there was
only one tooth, whence anchors were called ;
but in a short time, the second was added by Eupala-
mus, or Anacharsis the Scythian philosopher. 1 he an¬
chors with two teeth were called upip&ohoi or uftQKropof,
and from ancient monuments appear to have been much
the same with those used in our days, only the trans¬
verse piece of wood upon the handles (the stock) is
wanting in all of them. Every ship had several an¬
chors ; one of which, surpassing all the rest in bigness
and strength, was peculiarly termed or sacra, and
was never used but in extreme danger ; whence sacrum
anchoram solvere, is proverbially applied to such as are
forced to their last refuge.
The anchors now made are contrived so as to sink
into the ground as soon as they reach it, and to hold a
great strain before they can be loosened or dislodged
from their station. They are composed ot a shank, a
stock, a ring, and two arms with their flukes. I he
stock, 'which is a long piece ol timber fixed across the
shank, serves to guide the flukes in a direction perpen¬
dicular to the surface of the ground : so that one ot
them sinks into it by its own weight as soon as it falls,
and is still preserved steadily in that position by the
stuck,, ^
A N C [3
Anchor, stock, which, altogether with the shank, lies flat on the
■ y —1-' bottom. In this situation it must necessarily sustain a
great effort before it can be dragged through the earth
horizontally. Indeed this can only be effected by the
violence of the wind or tide, or both of them, some¬
times increased by the turbulence of the sea, and act¬
ing upon the ship so as to stretch the cable to its utmost
tension, which accordingly may dislodge the anchor
from its bed, especially if the ground be soft and oozy,
or rocky. When the anchor is thus displaced, it is
said, in the sea phrase, to come home.
That the figure of this useful instrument may be
plate more clearly understood, let us suppose a long massy
XXXII. beam of iron erected perpendicularly, &, at the lower
Fi". 2,N°x. encl 0f which are two arms, d e, of equal thickness
with the beam (usually called the shank), only that they
t-aper towards the points, which are elevated above the
horizontal plane at an angle of 30 degrees, or in¬
clined to the shank at an angle of 60 degrees ; on the
upper part of each arm (in this position) is a fluke or
thick plate of iron, g h, commonly shaped like an iso¬
sceles triangle whose base reaches inwards to the mid¬
dle of the arm. On the upper end of the shank is fix¬
ed the stock trailsversed with the flukes ; the stock is
a long beam of oak, f, in two pax-ts, strongly bolted
and hooped together with iron rings. See also N° 2.
Close above the stock is the ring a, to which the cable
is fastened or bent; the ring is curiously covered with
a number of pieces of short rope, which are twisted
about it so as to form a very thick texture or covering
called the puddening, and used to preserve the cable
from being fretted or chafed by the iron.
Every ship has, or ought to have, three principal
anchors, with a cable to each, viz. the sheet, maitresse-
ancre (which is the anchora sacra of the ancients) ; the
best bower, second ancre ; and small bower, ancre d'af-
fonrche, so called from their usual situation on the ship’s
bows. There are besides smaller anchors, for removing
a ship from place to place in a harbour or river, where
there may not be room or wind for sailing; these are
the stream anchor, ancre de tone ; the kedge and grap-
pling, grapin: this last, however, is chiefly designed
for boats.
Method of Making Anchors. The goodness of the
anchor is a point of great importance. Great care is
therefore to be taken, that the metal it is made of be
neither too soft nor too brittle the latter rendering it
liable to break, and the former to straighten.
The shank, arms, and flukes, are first forged sepa¬
rately ; then the hole is made at one end of the shank
for the ring, which being also previously forged, is put
into the hole of the shank, and the two ends shut to¬
gether. After which the arms are shut to the shank
one after the other, and the anchor is finished.
Proof is made of anchors by raising them to a great
height, and then letting them fall again on a kind of
iron block placed across for the purpose. To try whe¬
ther the flukes will turn to the bottom and take hold
of the ground, they place the anchor on an even sur¬
face, with the end of one of the flukes, and one of the
ends of the stock resting on the surface : in case the
anchor turns, and the point of the fluke rises upwards
the anchor is good.
In England, France, and Holland, anchors are made
20 ] A N C
of forged iron ; but in Spain they are sometimes made
of copper, and likewise in several parts of the South
sea.
For the proportions of anchors, according to Man-
waring, the shank is to be thrice the length of one of
the flukes, and half the length of the beam. Accord¬
ing to Aubin, the length of the anchor is to be four-
tenths of the greatest breadth of the ship j so that the
shank, e. gr. of an anchor in a vessel 30 feet wide, is
to be 12 feet long. When the shank is, for instance,
eight feet long, the two arms are to be seven feet
long, measuring them according to their curvity. As
to the degree of curvity given the arms, there is no
rule for it $ the workmen are here left to their own dis¬
cretion.
The latter waiter observes, that the anchor of a large
heavy vessel is smaller in proportion than that of a
lesser and lighter one. The reason he gives is, that
though the sea employs an equal force against a small
vessel as against a great one, supposing the extent of
W’ood upon which the water acts to be equal in both,
yet the little vessel, by reason of its superior lightness,
does not make so much resistance as the greater j the
defect whereof must be supplied by the weight of the
anchor.
From these and other hydrostatic principles, the fol¬
lowing table has been formed •, wherein is shown, by
means of the ship’s breadth within, how many feet
the beam or shank ought to be long, giving it four-
tenths or two-fifths of the ship’s breadth within: by
which proportion might be regulated the length of the
other parts of the anchor. In this table is represented
likewise the weight an anchor ought to be for a ship
from eight feet broad to 45, increasing by one foot’s
breadth j supposing that all anchors are similar, or that
their weights are as the cubes of the lengths of the
shanks.
( Feet
9
10
11
12
13
14
16
*7
j8
!9
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Feet. f Pounds,
2
t4H
o
_a
00
3f
3t
4
1 4t
4x
5t
5t
6
6f-
6#
7f
71
8
8t
8#
9t
9t
10
iof-
10#
1IT
12
lI2f
-£3
eo
33
47
64
84
no
140
J75
216
262
3i4
373
439
512
592
681
778
884
1000
1124
!259
1405
1562
1728
1906
Anelior.
Breadth
A]NTE^10ME TER.
ANEMOSCOPE.
v
Refit’ Sculp '
I
I IIP!
A N C [. 321 ] A N C
Anchor.
Feat.
0 »
P5
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
Feet.
~
!3t
I4
Mt
j4t
!5f.
i5t
16
16J-
16#
I7x
1 7t
18 -
Pounds.
2097
2500
25J4
2742
2986
3242
3512
3796
4096
4426
4742
5088
545i
5832
M. Bouguer, in his TraitS de Navire, directs to
take the length of the shank in inches, and to divide
the cube of it by 1160 for the weight. The reason
is obvious } because the quotient of the cube of 201
inches, which is the length of an anchor weighing
7000lb. divided by the weight, is 1160 j and therefore,
by the rule of three, this will be a common divisor for
the cube of any length, and a single operation will suf¬
fice.
The same author gives the following dimensions of
the several parts of an anchor. The two arms gene¬
rally form the arch of a circle, whose centre is three-
eighths of the shank from the vertex, or point where
it is fixed to the shank ; and each arm is equal to the
same length, or the radius $ so that the two arms to¬
gether make an arch of 120 degrees : the flukes ai’e
half the length of the arms, and their breadth two-
fifths of the said length. With respect to the thick¬
ness, the circumference at the throat, or vertex of the
shank, is generally made about a fifth part of its
length, and the small end two-thirds of the throat ;
the small end of the arms of the flukes, three-fourths
of the circumference of the shank at the throat. These
dimensions should be greater when the iron is of a bad
quality, especially if cast iron is used instead of forged
iron. See Anchor, Supplement.
At Anchor, the situation of a ship which rides by her
anchor in a road or haven, &c. Plate XXXII. fig. 1.
N° 3. represents the fore part of a ship as riding in this
situation. See also Buoy-Rope.
To fish the Anchor, to draw up the flukes upon the
ship’s side after it is catted. See the articles Davit
and Fish.
To steer the ship to her Anchor, is to steer the ship’s
head towards the place where the anchor lies when
they are heaving the cable into the ship j that the
cable may thereby enter the hause with less resistance,
and the ship advance towards the anchor with greater
facility.
Anchor-Ground, is a bottom which is neither too
deep, too shallow, nor rocky j as in the first the cable
bears too nearly perpendicular, and is thereby apt to
jerk the anchor out of the ground 5 in the second, the
ship’s bottom is apt to strike at low water', or when the
sea runs high, by which she is exposed to the danger
of sinking 5 and in the third, the anchor is liable to
hood the broken and pointed ends of rocks, and tear
VOL. II. Part I. t
away its flukes, whilst the cable, from the same cause, AncLor
is constantly in danger of being cut through as it rubs AnJ)enty
on their edges. ' J
Anchor, in Architecture, is a sort of carving some¬
what resembling an anchor. It is commonly placed as
part of the enrichment of the boultins of capitals of the
Tuscan, Doric, and Ionic orders, and also of the boul-
tins of bed mouldings of the Doric, Ionic, and Corin¬
thian cornices, anchors and eggs being carved alternate¬
ly through the whole building.
Anchors, in Heraldry, are emblems of hope, and
are taken for such in a spiritual as well as a temporal
sense.
Anchorage, in Law, is a duty upon ships for the
use of the port or harbour where they cast anchor.
ANCHOVY, in Ichthyology, the English name of
the clupea encrasicolus. See Clupea, Ichthyology
Index.
ANCHOVY-Pear. See Grias.
ANCHUSA, Alkanet or Bugloss. See Bo
TANY l/ldcx*
ANCHYLOBLEPHARON. See Ancyloele-
pharon.
ANCHYLOPS. See Anchilofs.
ANCHYLOSIS. See Ancylosis.
ANCIENT, or Antient, a term applied to things
which existed long ago } thus we say, ancient nations,
ancient customs, &c. See Antiquities.
Ancient, sometimes denotes elderly, or of long stand¬
ing, in opposition to young, or new j thus we say, an
ancient barrister, ancient buildings.
Ancient, in a military sense, denotes either the en¬
sign or colours.
Ancient, in ships of war, the streamer or flag borne
in the stern.
ANCIENT demesne, in English Law, is a te¬
nure, whereby all manors belonging to the crown in
William the Conqueror’s and St Edward’s time were
held. The numbers, names, &c. hereof were entered
by the Conqueror, in a book called Homesday Book,
yet remaining in the Exchequer; so that such lands as
by that book appeared to have belonged to the crown
at that time, are called ancient demesne.-—The tenants
in ancient demesne are of two sorts j one who hold
their lands frankly by charter 5 the other by copy oi
court-roll, or by the verge, at the will of the lord, ac¬
cording to the custom of the manor.—The advantages
of this tenure are, 1. That tenants holding by charter
cannot be rightfully impleaded out of their manor 5
and, when they are, they may abate the writ, by
pleading the tenure. 2. They are free from toll for
all things relating to their livelihood and husbandry;
nor can be impannelled on any inquest.—These tenants
held originally by ploughing the king’s land, plashing
his hedges, and the like service, for the maintenance
of his household 5 and it was on this account that such
liberties were given them, for which they may have
writs of monstraverunt to such as take the duties of
tolls, &c.—No lands are to be accounted ancient de¬
mesne, but such as are held in socage. Whether land
be ancient demesne or not, shall be tried by the book
of Domesday.
ANCIENTY, in some ancient statutes, is used for
eldership or seniority. The elder sister can demand no
S s more
A N C [ 322 ] A N C
Ancillon. more than her other sisters, beside the chief mesne, by
""""—•vr—"-* reason of her ancienty. This word is used in the sta¬
tute of Ireland, 14 Henry III.
ANCILLON, David, a minister of the reformed
church at Metz, where he was born the 17th ot March
1617. He studied from the ninth or tenth year of his
age in the Jesuits college, where he gave such proofs
of his genius, that the heads of the society tried every
means to draw him over to their religion and party j
but he continued firm against their attacks. He went
to Geneva in 1633 j and studied divinity under Span-
heim, Diodati, and Tronchin, who conceived a very
great esteem for him. He left Geneva in April 1641,
and offered himself to the synod of Charenton in order
to take upon him the office of a minister : his abilities
were greatly admired by the examiners, and the whole
assembly were so highly pleased with him, that they
gave him the church of Meaux, the most considerable
then unprovided for. Here he acquired a vast reputa¬
tion for his learning, eloquence, and virtue, and was
even highly respected by those of the Roman Catholic
communion. He returned to his own country in the
year 1653, where he remained till the revocation of
the edict of Nantes in 1685. He returned to Francfort
after this fatal blow •, and having preached in the
French church at Hanau, the whole congregation
W'ere so edified by it, that they immediately called to¬
gether the heads of the families, in order to propose
that he might be invited to accept of being minister
there. The proposition was agreed to ; and he began
the exercise of his ministry in that church about the
end of the year 1685. His preaching made so great a
noise at Hanau, that the professors of divinity, and the
German and Dutch ministers, attended his sermons
frequently : the count of Hanau himself, who had ne¬
ver before been seen in the French church, came thi¬
ther to hear Mr Ancillon j they came from the neigh¬
bouring parts, and even from Francfort *, people who
understood nothing of French flocked together with
great eagerness, and said, they loved to see him speak.
This occasioned a great jealousy in the two other mi¬
nisters ; which tended to make his situation uneasy.
He therefore went to Berlin ; where he met with a
kind reception from-his highness the elector, and was
made minister of the city. Here he had the pleasure
of seeing his eldest son made judge and director of the
French in the same city, and his other son rewarded
with a pension, and entertained at the university of
I ranefort upon the Oder. He had likewise the satis-
laction of seeing his brother made judge of all the
French in the states of Brandenburg; and Mr Cayart
his son-in law, engineer to his electoral highness. He
enjoyed these agreeable circumstances, and several
others, till his death, which happened at Berlin the
3d of September 1692, when he was 75 years of age.
—Mr Ancillon having got a considerable fortune by
marriage, v'as enabled thereby to gratify his passion
for books ; his library was accordingly very curious
and large, and he increased it every day with all that
appeared new and important in the republic of letters,
so that at last it was one of the noblest collections in
the hands of a private person in the kingdom. He
published a book, in quarto, in which the whole dis¬
pute concerning Traditions is fully examined ; he also
3.
wrote an apology for Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, and Anclam
Beza, and several other pieces. [j
ANCLAM, a strong town of Germany, in the cir- Ancony.
cle of Upper Saxony, and duchy of Pomerania, re-
markable for its excellent pastures. It is seated on the
river Pene. E. Long. 14. 5. N. Lat. 54. 10.
ANCLE, or Ankle. See Ankle.
ANCONA, Marqdisate OF, a province in the
pope’s territories in Italy. It lies between the gulf of
Venice and the Appenines, which bound it on the
north ; Abrnzzo on ‘the east; the duchy of Spoletto,
and that of Urbino, on the west. The air is indiffer¬
ent ; but the soil is fruitful, particularly in hemp and
flax ; and there is great plenty of wax and honey. It
contains several large towns, as Fermo, Loretto, Re-
canati, Macerata, Jesi, Tolentino, Ascoli, Osimo, St
S&verino, Monte Alto, Camerino, and Ripatransone,
which are all archiepiscopal or episcopal sees.
Ancona, a sea-port town of Italy, the capital of
the marquisate of that name, and the see of a bishop.
It was formerly the finest port in all Italy, being built
by the emperor Trajan, about the year 115 ; but was
almost ruined, and its trade lost: however, it has again
begun to revive.. Its harbour is the best in all the
pope’s dominions. The town lies round it on two
hills ; one of which is at the point of Cape St Syriacb,
from whence there is a delightful prospect. On the
other stands the citadel, which commands the town
and harbour. The streets of this city are narrow and
uneven ; and the public and private buildings inferior
to those of the other great towns in Italy. The ca¬
thedral is a low dark structure ; and though the front
is covered with fine marble, the architecture has nei¬
ther beauty nor regularity. The church of St Domi¬
nic, and that of the Franciscans, have each an excellent
picture by Titian. The exchange, where the mer¬
chants meet, is a handsome square portico, in which is
an equestrian statue of Trajan, who first built the port.
At the four corners are four other statues. The trium¬
phal arch of Trajan remains almost entire, with its in¬
scription. The common people in this town are a lit¬
tle particular and fantastical in their dress, but the bet¬
ter sort follow the French mode. It is a great thorough¬
fare from the north of Italy to Loretto; which ren¬
ders provisions very dear. The tide does not rise here
above a foot, and near the Mediterranean it is scarce
visible. E. Long. 13. 35. N. Lat. 43. 36.
ANCONES, in Architecture, the corners or quoins
of walls, cross beams, or rafters.—Vitruvius calls the
consoles by the same name.
ANCONY, in the iron-works, a piece of half-
wrought iron, of about three quarters of 100 weight,
and of the shape of a bar in the middle, but rude and
unwrought at the ends. The process for bringing the
iron to this state is this : They first melt off a piece
from a sow of cast iron, of the proper size ; this they
hammer at the forge into a mass of two feet long, and
of a square shape, which they call a bloom; when this
is done, they send it to the finery; where, after two or
three heats and workings, they bring it to this figure,
and call it an ancony. The middle part beat out at the
finery, is about three feet long, and of the shape and
thickness the whole is to be; this is then sent to the
chafery, and there the ends are wrought to the shape
ol
A N C [ 323 ] A N C
Ancaay of the middle, and the whole made into a bar. See
I! Bar.
Ancyle. ANCORARUM URBS TtoAi?'), a city in
the Nomos Aphroditopolites, towards the Red sea j so
called because there was in the neighbourhood a stone
quary, in which they hewed stone anchors (Ptolemy)
before iron anchors came to be used. The gentilitious
name is Ancyropolites (Stephanus).
ANCOURT, Florent Carton d1, an eminent
French actor and dramatic writer, was born at Fon-
tainbleau, October 1661. He studied in the Jesuits
college at Paris under Father de la Rue *, who, disco¬
vering in him a remarkable vivacity and capacity for
learning, was extremely desirous of engaging him in
their order 5 but Ancourt’s aversion to a religious life
rendered all his efforts ineffectual. After he had gone
through a course of philosophy, he applied himself to
the civil law, and was admitted advocate at 17 years
of age. But falling in love with an actress, he was
induced to go upon the stage, and he married her.
As he had all the qualifications necessary for the thea¬
tre, he soon greatly distinguished himself j and not be¬
ing satisfied with the applause only of an actor, he be¬
gan to write pieces for the stage 5 many of which had
such prodigious success, that most of the players grew
‘ rich from the profits of them. His merits in this way
procured him a very favourable reception at court j
and Louis XIV. showed him many marks of his fa¬
vour. His sprightly conversation and polite behaviour
made his company agreeable to all the men of figure
both at court and in the city, and the most considera¬
ble persons were extremely pleased to have him at their
houses. Having taken a journey to Dunkirk, to see
his eldest daughter who lived there, he took the op¬
portunity of paying his compliments to the elector of
Bavaria, who was then at Brussels : this prince recei¬
ved him with the utmost civility 5 and having detained
him a considerable time, dismissed him with a present
of a diamond valued at 1000 pistoles*: he likewise re¬
warded him in a very generous manner, when, upon
his coming to Paris, Ancourt composed an entertain¬
ment for his diversion. Ancourt began at length to
grow weary of the theatre, which he quitted in Lent
1718, and retired to his estate of Courcelles le Roy,
in Berry, where he applied himself wholly to devotion,
and composed a translation of David’s Psalms in verse,
and a sacred tragedy, which were never printed. Fie
died the 6th of December 1726, being 65 years of
age.—The plays which he wrote are 52 in all ; most
of which were printed separately at the time when the)'
were first represented : They were afterwards collected
into five volumes, then into seven, and at last into nine.
This last edition is most complete.
ANCRE, a small town of France, in Picardy, with
the title of a marquisate, seated on a little river of the
same name. E. Long. 2. 45* N. Lat. 49- 59-, ^
ANGUS Martius, the fourth king of the Ro¬
mans, succeeded Tullus Hostilius, 639 years before
Christ. He defeated the Latins, subdued the F ide-
nates, conquered the Sabines, Volsci, and Veientines,
enlarged Rome by joining to it Mount Janiculum, and
made the harbour of Ostia. He died about 615 years
before the Christian era.
ANCYLE, in antiquity, a kind of shield that fell,
as was pretended, from heaven, in the reign of Numa Ancyie
Pompilius } at which time, likewise, a voice was heard 11
declaring that Rome should be mistress of the world as , An('yr*
long as she should preserve this holy buckler. It was
kept with great care in the temple of Mars, under the
direction of twelve priests j and lest any should attempt
to steal it, eleven others were made so like, as not to
be distinguished from the sacred one. These ancylia
w'ere carried in procession every year round the city of
Rome.
Ancyle, in Surgery. See Ancylosis.
ANCYLOBLEPHARON, (from ayxvAa?, bent,
and fiMpccgov, an eyelid') ; a disease of the eye, which
closes the eyelids. Sometimes the eyelids grow to¬
gether, and also to the tunica albuginea of the eye,
from carelessness when there is an ulcer in these parts.
Both these cases are called ancyloblepharon by the
Greeks. This disorder must be distinguished from
that coalition of the eyelids which happens from vis¬
cid matter gluing them together. If the cohesion is
on the corner, the sight is inevitably lost. This hath
sometimes happened in the small pox. If there is
only a growing together of the eyelids, they may be
separated with the specillum, and pledgets kept be¬
tween them to prevent their reunion. If the eyelids
adhere to the eye, they are to be separated by a fine
edged knife j and their reunion is to be prevented by a
proper use of injections, and lint placed between them,
after dipping it in some proper liniment.
ANCYLOGLOSSUM (from ctyxvAos, crooked, and
yXiaTTcc, the tongue) ; a contraction of the ligaments of
the tongue. Some have thia imperfection from their
birth, others from some disease. In the first case, the
membrane which supports the tongue is too short or
too hard 3 in the latter, an ulcer under the tongue,
healing and forming a cicatrix, is sometimes the
cause : These speak with some difficulty. The ancy-
loglossi by nature are late before they speak ; but
when they begin, they soon speak properly. These
we call tongue-tied. Mauriceau says, that in this case
it is a small membranous production, which extends
from the frsenulum to the tip of the tongue, that hin¬
ders the child from sucking, &c. He justly condemns
the cruel practice among nurses, of tearing this mem¬
brane with their nails 3 for thus ulcers are sometimes
formed, which are of difficult cure : he advises to snip
it with scissars in two or three places, taking care not
to extend the points of the scissars so far as the frtenu-
lum. The instances rarely occur which require any
kind of assistance 3 for if the child can thrust the tip of
its tongue to the outer edge ol its lip, this disease does
not exist 3 and if the tongue is not greatly restrained,
the frsenulum will stretch by the child’s sucking and
crying.
ANCYLOSIS, in Surgery, implies a distortion or
stiffness of the joints, caused by a settlement ol the hu¬
mours, or a distension of the nerves 3 and therefore
remedies of a mollifying and relaxing nature are re¬
quired.
ANCYRA, the capital of Galatia, (Livy, Pliny,
Ptolemy) 3 at no great distance from the river Halys,
(Livy) : said to be built by Midas, king of Phrygia,
and to take its name from an anchor found there (Pau-
sanias). It was greatly improved by Augustus, deem-
S s 2 ’ ed
AND [ 324 ] AND
Ancyra ed the second founder of it, as appears from the Mar-
il mor Ancyranum. It is now called Angara^ or An-
Antie)y- goura. E. Long. 30*. N. Lat. 41. 20.
  ' ANCYSTRUM. See Botany Index.
ANDABATAE, in antiquity, a sort of gladiators,
who, mounted on horseback or in chariots, fought hood¬
winked, having a helmet that covered their eyes.
ANDALUSIA, is the most western province of
Spain, having Estremadura and La Mancha on the
north ; the kingdom of Granada, the straits of Gibral¬
tar, and the ocean, on the east and south ; and on
the west, the kingdom of Algarva in Portugal, from
which it is separated by the river Guadiana. It is
about 182 miles long, and 150 broad. The chief
cities and towns are Seville the capital, Baeza, Gib¬
raltar, Cordova, Cadiz, Medina Sidonia, Jaen, Port
St Mary, &c. It is the best, most fruitful, and the
richest part of all Spain. There is good air, a fertile
soil, and a great extent of sea coast fit for commerce.
The population in 1787 amounted to 738,153.
New Andalusia, a division of the province of Ter¬
ra Firma in South America, whose boundaries cannot
be well ascertained, as the Spaniards pretend a right to
countries.in which they have never established any set¬
tlements. According to the most reasonable limits, it
extends in length 500 miles from north to south, and
about 270 in breadth from east to west. The interior
country is woody and mountainous, variegated with fine
valleys that yield corn and pasturage. The produce of
the country consists chiefly in dyeing drugs, gums, me¬
dicinal roots, brazil wood, sugar, tobacco, and some
valuable timber. To this province also belonged five
valuable pearl fisheries. The capital of New Andalu¬
sia is Comana, Cumana, or New Corduba, situated in
N. Lat. 10. 5. about nine miles from the north sea,.
Here the Spaniards laid the foundation of a town in
the year 1520. The place is strong by nature, and
fortified by a castle capable of making a vigorous de¬
fence. The country is better known under the name
of Guiana. The revolution which began there in 1810
is not yet terminated.
ANDAMAN or Andeman Islands, in the East
Indies, situated about 80 leagues distant from Tanas-
serim on the coast of Siam. They are but little known.
The East India ships sometimes touch at them, and are
supplied by the natives with rice, herbs, and fruits.
The inhabitants are by some represented as a harmless
inoffensive race of men, and by others as cannibals.
E. Long. 92. o. N. Lat. from io° to 150.
ANDANTE, in Music, signifies a movement mode¬
rately slow, between largo and allegro.
ANDECAVI, (Tacitus) ; Andegavi, (Pliny) ;
Andes, (Caesar) ; Andi, (Lucan) : A people of Gal¬
lia Celtica, having theTurones to the east, the Namne-
tes to the west, the Pictones to the south, and the Au-
lerci Coenomani to the north : now Anjou.
ANDEGAVI, or Andegavus, a town of Gallia
Celtica, (Pliny, Ptolemy ;) now Angiers. Called An-
decavi, (Tacitus). W. Long. 30. N. Lat. 47. 30.
ANDELY, a town of Normandy in France, parted
m two by a paved causeway. Here is a fountain to
which pilgrims flock from all parts, to be cured of
their disorders, on the feast day of the saint to which
it is dedicated. It is 20 miles south-east of Rouen,
2
and 40 north-west of Paris. E. Long. 1. 30. Lat. Audely
49. 20. , . - ^
ANDENA, in old writings, denotes the swath made Anderson,
in the mowing of hay, or as much ground as a man 'r~m“
could stride over at once.
ANDEOL, Saint, a town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Lozere, five miles south of St Viviers, whose
bishop formerly resided there. E. Long. 2. 50. N.
Lat. 44. 24.
ANDERAB, the most southern city of the pro¬
vince of Balkh, possessed by the Usbeck Tartars. It
is very rich and populous, but a place of no great
strength. The neighbouring mountains yield excel¬
lent quarries of lapis lazuli, in which the Bukhars
drive a great trade with Persia and India.—This city
is situated at the foot of the mountains dividing north¬
ern India, and the Persian dominions, from Great
Bukharia. As there is no other way of crossing these
mountains but by the road through this city, all tra¬
vellers with goods must pay 4 per cent. On this ac¬
count the khan of Balkh maintains a good number of
soldiers in the place.
ANDERNACHT, a city in the duchy of the Lower
Rhine, belonging to Prussia. It is situated in a plain
on the river Rhine ; and is fortified with a wall, castle,
and bulwarks. It has a trade in stone jugs and pitch¬
ers, which are sent to the mineral waters at Dunchstein.
There are three monasteries here, and several churches.
E. Long. 7. 4. N. Lat. 50. 27.
ANDERO, Saint, a sea port town in the bay of
Biscay, in Old Castile, seated on a small peninsula.
It is a trading town, and contains about 700 houses,
two parish churches, and four monasteries. Here the
Spaniards build and lay up some of their men of war.
W. Long. 3. 45. N. Lat. 43. 20.
ANDERSON, Sir Edmund, a younger son of an
ancient Scotch family settled in Lincolnshire. He
W'as some time a student of Lincoln-college, Oxford;
and removed from thence to the Inner Temple, where
he applied himself diligently to the study of the law,
and became a barrister. In the ninth of Queen Eliza¬
beth he was both Lent and Summer reader, and in the
16th double reader. He was appointed her majesty’s
serjeant at law in the 19th year of her reign ; and some
time after, one of the justices of the assize. In 1582
he was made lord chief justice of the common pleas,
and in the year following was knighted. He held his
office to the end of his life, died in the year 1605,
and was buried at Eyeworth in Bedfordshire. He was
an able but punctilious lawyer ; a scourge to the Pu¬
ritans •, and a strenuous supporter of the established
church. His works are, 1. Reports of many princi¬
pal cases argued and adjudged in the time of Queen
Elizabeth in the common bench. Lond. 1644. fol.
2. Resolutions and judgements on the cases and matter
agitated in all courts of Westminster, in the latter
end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Published by
John Goldsborough, Esq. Lond. 1655, 4to* Resides
these, there is a manuscript copy of his readings still in
being.
Anderson, Adam, a native of Scotland, was bro¬
ther to the reverend James Anderson, D. D. editor
of the Diplomata Scotice and Royal Genealogies, many
years since minister of the Scots Presbyterian church
in
AND [ 325 ] AND
in Swallow-street, Piccadilly, and well known in those
days among the people of that persuasion resident in
London by the name of Bishop Anderson, a learned
but imprudent man, who lost a considerable part of his
property in the fatal year 1720. He married, and had
issue a son, and a daughter who was the wife of an offi¬
cer in the army.
Adam Anderson was for 40 years a clerk in the
South-sea house ; and at length arrived at his acme
there, being appointed chief clerk ol the Stock and
New Annuities, which office he retained till his death.
He was appointed one of the trustees for establishing
the colony of Georgia in America 5 and was also one
of the court of assistants of the Scots corporation in
London. The time of the publication of his “ Histo¬
rical and Chronological Deduction of Trade and Com¬
merce,” a work replete with useful information, was
about the year 1762. He was thrice married ; and by
the first wife he had issue a daughter. She wras, like
him, tall and graceful 5 and her face has been thought
to have some resemblance to that of the ever-living
countess of Desmond, given in Mr Pennant’s first
Tour in Scotland. Mr Anderson died at his house in
Red-Lion street, Clerkenwell, January 10. 1775* He
had a good library of books, which were sold by his
widow, who survived him several years, and died in
tySt.
Anderson, Alexander, a Scottish mathematician.
See Supplement.
Anderson, Dr James, an eminent agricultural wri¬
ter. See Supplement.
ANDES, a great chain of mountains in South Ame¬
rica, which running from the most northern part of
Peru to the straits of Magellan, between 3000 and
4000 miles, are the longest and most remarkable in
the world. The Spaniards call them the Cordillera de
los Andes. They form two ridges, the lowermost of
which is overspread with woods and groves, and the
uppermost covered with everlasting snow. Those who
have been at the top, affirm, that the sky is always se¬
rene and bright j the air cold and piercing ; and yet so
thin, that they were scarce able to breathe, and the re¬
spiration was much quicker than ordinary } and this is
attended with retching and vomiting 5 which, however,
has been considered by some as merely accidental.
When they looked downwards, the country was hid by
the clouds that hovered on the mountain sides. The
mountains just mentionedj which have been frequently
ascended, are much inferior in height to many others
in this enormous chain. The following is the account
given of the mountain called Pichincha, by the mathe¬
maticians sent by the kings of France and Spain to
make observations in relation to the figure of the earth.
Soon after our artists arrived at Quito, they deter¬
mined to continue the series of the triangles for mea¬
suring an arch of the meridian to the south of that city:
the company accordingly divided themselves into two
bodies, consisting of French and Spaniards, and each
retired to the part assigned them. Don George Juan
and M. Godin, who were at the head of one party,
went to the mountain of Pambamarca 5 while M.
Bouguer, de la Condamine, and Don Ulloa, together
with their assistants, climbed up to the highest summit
of Pichincha. Both parties suffered extremely, as well
from the severity of the cold as from the impetuosity
of the winds, which on these heights blow with xnces- Ander.
sant violence ; difficulties the more painful, as they had u-~v—-
been little used to such sensations. Thus in the torrid
zone, nearly under the equinoctial, where it is natu¬
ral to suppose they had most to fear from the heat, their
greatest pain was caused by the excessiveness of the
cold.
Their first scheme for shelter and lodging in these
uncomfortable regions, was to pitch a field-tent for
each company ; but on Pichincha this could not be
done from the narrowness of the summit 5 they were
therefore obliged to be contented with a hut so small
that they could hardly all creep into it. Nor will this
appear strange, if the reader considers the bad disposi¬
tion and smallness of the place, it being one of the
loftiest crags of a rocky mountain, 100 fathoms above
the highest part of the desert of Pichincha. Such was
the situation of their mansion, which, like all the other
adjacent parts, soon became covered with ice and snow.
The ascent up this stupendous rock, from the base or
the place where the mules could come, to their habita¬
tion was so craggy as only to be climbed on foot j and
to perform it cost them four hours continual labour and
pain, from the violent efforts of the body, and the sub¬
tlety of the air; the latter being such as to render re¬
spiration difficult.
The strange manner of living to which our artists
were reduced during the time they were employed in
a geometrical mensuration of some degrees of the me¬
ridian, may not perhaps prove unentertaining to the
reader; and therefore the following account is given
as a specimen of it. The desert of Pichincha, both
with regard to the operations performed there and its
inconveniences, differing very little from others, an
idea may be verv easily formed of the fatigues, hard¬
ships, and dangers, to which they were continually
exposed during the time they were prosecuting the en¬
terprise, with the conduct of which they had been ho¬
noured. The principal difference between the several
deserts consisted in their greater or lesser distance from
places where they could procure provisions j and in the
inclemency of the weather, which was proportionate to
the height of the mountains, and the season of the
year.
They generally kept within their hut. Indeed they
were obliged to do this, both on account of the in¬
tenseness of the cold, the violence of the wind, and
their being continually involved in so thick a fog, that
an object at six or eight paces was hardly discernible.
When the fog cleared up, the clouds by their gravity
moved nearer to the surface of the earth, and on all
sides surrounded the mountains to a vast distance, re¬
presenting the sea, with their rock like an island in the
centre of it. When this happened, they heard the
horrid noises of the tempests, which then discharged
themselves on Quito and the neighbouring country.
They saw the lightnings issue from the clouds, and
heard the thunders roll far beneath them : and whilst
the lower parts were involved in tempests of thunder
and rain, they enjoyed a delightful serenity j the wind
was abated, the sky clear, and the enlivening rays of
the sun moderated the severity of the cold. But their
circumstances were very different when the clouds rose .
their thickness rendered respiration difficult; the snow
and hail fell continually j and the wind returned with
AND [ 326 ] AND
Andes, all its violence j so that it was impossible entirely to
1—---v—overcome the fears of being, together with their hut,
blown clown the precipice, on whose edge it was built,
or of being buried under it by the daily accumulations
of ice and snow.
The wind was often so violent in these regions, that
its velocity dazzled the sight, whilst their fears were in¬
creased from the dreadful concussions of the precipice,
cause*!’ by the fall of enormous fragments of rocks.
These crashes were the more alarming, as no other
noises are beard in these deserts 5 and during the night,
their rest, which they so greatly wanted, was frequently
disturbed by such sudden sounds. When the weather
was any thing fair with them, and the clouds gathered
about some of the other mountains which had a connec¬
tion with their observations, so that they could not
make all the use they desired of this interval of good
weather, they left their hut to exercise themselves.
Sometimes they descended to some small distance ; and
at others* amused themselves with rolling large frag¬
ments of rocks down the precipice ; and these frequent¬
ly required the joint strength of them all, though they
often saw the same effected by the mere force of the
wind. But they always took care in their excursions
not to go so far out, but that on the least appearance of
the clouds gathering about their cottage, which often
happened very suddenly, they could regain their shel¬
ter. The door of their hut was fastened with thongs
of leather, and on the inside not the smallest crevice
was left unstopped; besides which, it was very com¬
pactly covered with straw : but notwithstanding all
their care, the wind penetrated through. The days
were often little better than the nights; and all the
light they enjoyed was that of a lamp or two, which
they kept continually burning.
Though their hut was small, and crowded with in¬
habitants, besides the heat of the lamps ; yet the intense-
ness of the cold was such, that every one of them was
obliged to have a chafing-dish of coals. These precau¬
tions would have I'endered the rigour of the climate
supportable, had not the imminent danger of perishing
by being blown down the precipice roused them, every
time it snowed, to encounter the severity of the outward
air, and sally out with shovels to free the roof of their
hut from the masses of snow which were gathering on
it. Nor would it, without this precaution, have been
able to support the weight. They were not indeed
without servants and Indians ; but these were so be¬
numbed with the cold, that it was with great difficulty
they could get them out of a small tent, where they
kept a continual fire. So that all our artists could ob¬
tain from them was to take their turns in this labour;
and even then they went very unwillingly about it, and
consequently performed it slowly.
It may easily be conceived what this company suf¬
fered from the asperities of such a climate. Their feet
were swelled, and so tender, that they could not even
beai the heat; and walking was attended with extreme
pain. Their hands were covered with chilblains ; their
lips swelled and chopped ; so that every motion in
speaking, or the like, drew blood ; consequently they
were obliged to strict taciturnity, and little disposed to
laugh, as, by causing an extension of the lips, it pro¬
duced such fissures as were very painful for two or three
days after.
Their common food in this inhospitable region was Andes,
a little rice boiled with some flesh or fowl procured from -v—
Quito ; and, intead of fluid water, their pot was filled
with ice. They had the same resource with regard to
what they drank : and while they were eating, every
one was obliged to keep his plate over a chafing-dish
of coals, to prevent his provisions from freezing. The
same was done with regard to the water. At first they
imagined the drinking strong liquors would diffuse a
heat through the body, and consequently render it less
sensible of the painful sharpness of the cold ; but, to
their surprise, they felt no manner of strength in such
liquors, nor were they any greater preservative against
the cold than common water.
At the same time, they found it impossible to keep
the Indians together. On their first' feeling of the
climate, their thoughts were immediately turned on
deserting their masters. The first instance they had of
this kind was so unexpected, that had not one, of a
better disposition than the rest, staid and acquainted
them of their design, it might have proved of very bad
consequence. The affair was this : There being on the
top of the rock no room for pitching a tent for the In¬
dians, they used every evening to retire to a cave at the
foot of the mountain ; where, besides a natural diminu¬
tion of the cold, they could keep a continual fire ; and
consequently enjoyed more comfortable quarters than
their masters. Before they withdrew at night, they
fastened on the outside the door of the hut, which was
so low that it was impossible to go in or out without
stooping; and as every night the hail and snow which
had fallen formed a wall against the door, it was the
business of one or two of the Indians to come early and
remove this obstruction. For though the negro servants
were lodged in a little tent, their hands and feet were
so covered with chilblains, that they would rather have
suffered themselves to have been killed than move. The
Indians therefore came constantly up to despatch this
work betwixt nine and ten in the morning: but they
had not been there above four or five days, when they
were not a little alarmed to see ten, eleven, and twelve
o’clock come, without any news of their labourers ;
when they were relieved by the honest servant mention¬
ed above, who had withstood the seduction of his coun¬
trymen, and informed his masters of the desertion of
the four others. As soon as the snow was cleared away
from the door, they despatched the Indian to the cor-
regidor of Quito, who with equal despatch sent other
Indians, threatening to chastise them severely if they
were wanting in their duty.
But the fear of punishment was not sufficient to in¬
duce them to support the rigour of this situation; for
within two days they deserted. The corregidor there¬
fore, to prevent any other inconvenience, sent four In¬
dians under the care of an alcade, and gave orders for
their being relieved every fourth day.
Twenty-three tedious days our artists spent on this
rock, viz. to the sixth of September, and even without
any possibility of finishing their observations of the
angles : for when it was fair and clear weather with
them, the others, on whose summits the signals which
formed the triangles for measuring the degrees of the
meridian, were hid in the clouds ; and when those were
clear, Pichincha was involved in clouds. It was there¬
fore necessary to erect their signals in a lower situation,
and
AND [ 327 ] AND
AnJes. ami In a more favourable region. This, however, did
—V-"1"' not produce any change in their habitation till the be¬
ginning of December ; when, having finished the ob¬
servations which particularly concerned Pichincha, they
proceeded to others *, but with no abatement either of
inconveniences, cold, or fatigue j for the places where
they made their observations being necessarily on the
highest parts of the deserts, the only respite in which
they enjoyed some little ease was during the short in¬
terval of passing from one to the other.
In all their stations subsequent to that on Pichincha,
during their fatiguing mensuration of the degrees of
the meridian, each company lodged in a field-tent,
which, though small, they found less inconvenient than
the hut on Pichincha 5 though at the same time they
had more trouble, being oftener obliged to clear it from
the snow, as the weight of it would otherwise have de¬
molished the tent. At first, indeed, they pitched it in
the most sheltered places ; but on taking a resolution
that the tents themselves should serve for signals, to pre¬
vent the inconvenience of having others of wood, they
removed them to a more exposed situation, where the
impetuosity of the winds sometimes tore up the piquets,
and blew them down.
Though this mountain is famous for its great height,
it is considerably lower than the mountain of Cotopaxi:
but it is impossible to conceive the coldness of the sum¬
mit of the last mentioned mountain from that felt on
this ; since it must exceed every idea that can be form¬
ed by the human mind, though they are both seated
in the midst of the torrid z.one. In all this range of
mountains, there is said to be a constant inferior boun¬
dary, beyond which the snow never melts : this boun¬
dary, in the midst of the torrid zone, is said by some
to be 2434 fathoms above the level of the sea j by
others, only 2400 fathoms. The snow indeed falls much
lower, but then it is subject to be melted the very
same day. According to Humboldt, there are in the
Andes 40 volcanoes or burning mountains, which throw
out fire and smoke with a terrible noise. The height of
Chimborazo, said to he the highest peak of the Andes,
has been determined by geometrical calculations to be
20,282 feet. Humboldt, who visited this region in
1802, found the height of the volcanic cone of Tungu-
ragua to be 16,500 feet ; the summit of Pichincha
15,840 feet j that of Antisana 19,150 feet. The dread¬
ful volcano of Cotopaxi is only 260 feet lower than this
last. Such is the climate on these mountains, that the
region adapted to the growth of all kinds of European
grain is between 6000 and 9000 feet above the level ol
the sea. The limit of perpetual congelation under the
equator, has been fixed by Humboldt at 15,700 feet.
On the declivity of the Andes, at the height of from
3000 to 5000 feet, there reigns a perpetual spring
temperature, which never varies more than seven or
nine degrees of Fahrenheit.
The Andes give birth to a vast number of rivers,
some of which are very large. Some hurx-y along with
a prodigious rapidity j while others form beautiful cas¬
cades, or run through holes in rocks, which look like
bridges of a stupendous height. There is a public
road through the mountains, 1000 miles in length, part
of which runs from Quito to Cusco. See Andes, Sup¬
plement.
Andes, a hamlet of Mantua in Italy, the birthplace
of Virgil. Hence the epithet Andinus (Stilus Itali- Andes
eus). Now called Pietola, two miles to the west of 11
Mantua. Andrapo-
ANDETRIUM-, Andretium (Strabo): Ande-,“ocapeil-
crium, or Andrecium (Ptolemy) : An inland town
of Dalmatia. The genuine name is Andetrium (In¬
scription). It is described as situated near Salonse, on
a naturally strong and inaccessible rock, surrounded
with deep valleys, with rapid torrents; from which it
appears to he the citadel now called Clissa. E. Long.
17. 46. N. Lat. 43. 20.
AN DEUSE, a city of Languedoc in France, situ¬
ated in E. Long. 3. 40. and N. Lat. 43. 45.
ANDOMADUNUM; Andomatunum (Ptolemy);
and Antematunum (Antonine) ; Civitas Lingo-
NUM (Tacitus) : A city of Gallia Belgica ; now Lcin-
gres in Champagne, situated on an eminence (which
seems to justify the termination dunum}, on the borders
of Burgundy, at the springs of the Marne. Tacitus
calls an inhabitant Ltngon. E. Long. 5. 22. N. Lat.
48. o.
ANDOVER, a large market town in Hampshire,
which is situated on a branch of the river Test. It has
several inns, which afford good accommodation for tra¬
vellers ; and has a market on Saturday, ivell stocked
with provisions. It is governed by a bailiff, a steward,
a recorder, ten approved men, and twenty-two capital
burgesses, who yearly choose the bailiff. Population
3295 in 1811. The living is a vicarage valued at
171I. 4s. 4d. in the king’s books. W. Long. o. 56.
N. Lat. 51. 20.
ANDRACHNE, Bastard Orpine. See Botany
Index.
ANDRADA, Diego de Payva d’, or Andra-
Dius, a learned Portuguese, born at Coimbra, who di¬
stinguished himself at the council of Trent, where King
Sebastian sent him as one of his, divines. There is scarce
any Catholic author who has been more quoted by the
Protestants than he, because he maintained some opi¬
nions a little extravagant concerning the salvation of
the Heathens. Andrada was esteemed an excellent
preacher. His sermons were published in three parts,
the second of which was translated into Spanish by Be-
-nedict de Alcoran. Many encomiums have been be¬
stowed upon Andrada. Osorius, in his preface to the
“ Orthodox Explanations of Andradius,” gives him the
character of a man of wit, vast application, great know¬
ledge in the languages, with all the zeal and plo^utnce
necessary to a good preacher; a,1(* libs we id us says, that
he brought to the council of Irent the understanding
of a most profound divine, and the eloquence ol a con¬
summate orator.
ANDRAPQDISMUS, in ancient writers, the sel¬
ling of persons for slaves. Hence also andvapodistes,
a dealer in slaves, more particularly a kidnapper, who
steals men or children to sell them ; a crime for which
the Thessalians were noted.
ANDRAPODOCAPELI, in antiquity, a kind of
dealers in slaves. 'Y\\e, Andrapodocapeli had a parti¬
cular process for taking off moles and the like disfi¬
gurements on the faces of the slaves they kept for sale,
by rubbing them with bran. At Athens, several
places in the forum were appointed for the sale ol siaves.
Upon the first day of every month, the merchants call¬
ed brought them into the maiket, and
exposed a
AND- [ 32B ] AND
Andrapo- exposed them to sale ; the crier standing upon a stone
docapeli erected for that purpose, called the people together.
« ANDREA, St, a small village on the Malabar
Andreas. coasj- jn jjjg East Indies, founded originally by the Por¬
tuguese. It takes its name from a church dedicated
to St Andrew, and served by the priests of St I ho-
mas.—On the shore of St Andrea, about half a league
out in the sea, lies Mud-bay, a place which few in
the world can parallel. It is open to the wide ocean,
and has neither island nor bank to break the force ot
the billows, which come rolling with great violence
from all parts, in the south-west monsoons: but on
this bank of mud they lose themselves in a moment;
and ships lie on it as secure as in the best harbour,
without motion or disturbance. It reaches about a
mile along shore, and has been observed to shift its
place from the northward about three miles in 30
years. From St Andrea to Kranganor, about twelve
leagues to the south, the water has the bad property
of causing swellings in the legs of those who drink it
constantly. Some it affects in one leg, and some in
both. It causes no pain, but itching", nor does the
swelled leg seem heavier to the owner than the small
one, though some have been s^en a yard in circumfe¬
rence at the ancle. The Romish legends impute the
cause of this distemper (for which no preventive or
cure hath been hitherto found) to a curse laid by St
Thomas upon his murderers and their posterity 5 though,
according to the Romans themsslves, St Thomas was
killed by the Tillinga priests at Meliaphur, on the
coast of Coromandel, about 400 miles distant, and
where the natives have not this distemper.
ANDREAS, John, a celebrated canonist in the
14th century, was born at Mugello, near Florence ",
and was professor of canon law at Padua, Pisa, and af¬
terwards at Bologna. It is said that he macerated his
body with fasting: and lay upon the bare ground every
night for 20 years together, covered only with the
skin of a bear. This is attested by very good authors 5
but if the story which Poggius tells of him in his jests
be true, he must afterwards have relaxed much of this
continency: “ Joannem Andream (says he), docto-
rem Bonnoniensem, cujus fama admodum vulgata est,
subagitantem ancillam domesticam uxor deprehendit:
re insueta stupefacta mulier in virum versa, Ubi nunc,
ait, Joannes, est sapientia vestra ? Ille nil amplius lo-
cutus, In vulva istius, respondit, loco admodum sapien-
ucc. iccommodato.” The French translation of this
perhaps will not be displeasing.
Jean, dit Andre, fameux Docteur des Loix,
Fut pris unjour au peche d"1 amourette :
11 acolloit une jeune soubrette.
Sa femme vint. Jit un signe de croix.
Ho ho, dit elle, est ce vous ? non je pense :
Vous, dont par-tout en vante la prudence.
Qidest devenu cet esprit si subtil ?
Le bon Andre, poursuivant son nSgoce,
Honteux pourtant, ma foi, repondit-il.
Prudence, esprit, tout git dans cette fosse.
Since it is agreed that John Andreas had a bastard,
this story is at the bottom very probable ; and it was
perhaps with the mother of Banicontius that his wife
found him. Andreas had a beautiful daughter, named
‘Novella, whom he loved extremely : and he is said to An(jreas
have instructed her so well in all parts of learning, that u—
when he was engaged in any affair which hindered him
from reading lectures to his scholars, he sent his daugh¬
ter in his room } and lest her beauty should prevent the
attention of the hearers, she had a little curtain drawn
before her. To perpetuate the memory of this daugh¬
ter, he entitled his commentary upon the Decretals of
Gregory IX. the Novellce. He married her to John
Calderinus, a learned canonist. The first work of An¬
dreas was his Gloss upon the Sixth Book of the De-
cx-etals, which he wrote when he was very young. He
wrote also Glosses upon the Clementines ; and a Com¬
mentary in regula Sexti, which he entitled Mercuria-
les, because he either engaged in it on Wednesdays
{diebus Mercurii'), or because he inserted his Wednes¬
days disputes in it. He enlarged the Speculum of Du¬
rant, in the year 1347. This is all which Mr Bayle
mentions of his writings, though he wrote many more.
Andreas died of the plague at Bologna in 1348, after
he had been a professor 45 years ; and was buried in
the church of the Dominicans. Many eulogiums have
been bestowed upon him. He has been called Archi-
doctor deeretorum: In his epitaph, Rabbi doetorum :
lux, censor, normaque morum ; “ Rabbi of the doctors,
the light, censor, and rule of manners And it is said,
that Pope Boniface called him lumen mundi, “ the
light of the world.”
Andreas, John, was born a Mahometan, at Xati-
va in the kingdom of Valencia, and succeeded his fa¬
ther in the dignity of alfaqui of that city. He was
enlightened with the knowledge of the Christian reli¬
gion by being present at a sermon in the great church
of Valencia on the day of Assumption of the Blessed
Virgin, in the year 1487. Upon this he desired to be
baptized ; and, in memory of the calling of St John
and St Andrew, he received the name John Andreas.
“ Having received holy orders (says he), and from
an alfaqui and a slave of Lucifer, become a priest and
minister of Christ j I began, like St Paul, to preach
and publish the contrary of what I had erroneously be¬
lieved and asserted j and, with the assistance of Al¬
mighty God, I converted at first a great many souls of
the Moors, who were in danger of hell, and under the
dominion of Lucifer, and conducted them into the way
of salvation. After this, I was sent for by the most
catholic princes King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella,
in order to preach in Grenada to the Moors of that
kingdom, which their majesties had conquered: by
God’s blessing on my preaching, an infinite number of
Moors were brought to abjure Mahomet, and to turn
to Christ. A little after this, I was made a canon by
their grace ; and sent for again by the most Christian.
Queen Isabella to Arragon, that I might be employed
in the conversion of the Moors of those kingdoms, who
still persisted in their errors, to the great contempt and
dishonour of our crucified Saviour, and the prodigious
loss and danger of all Christian princes. But this ex¬
cellent and pious design of her majesty was rendered
ineffectual by her death.” At the desire of Martin
Garcia, bishop of Barcelona, he undertook to trans¬
late from the Arabic, into the language of Arragon,
the whole law of the Moors j and after having finished
this undertaking, he composed his famous work of The
Confusion of the Sect of Mahumed ; it contains twelve
chapters,
AND t 329 ] AND
Andrrini cliapt^rs> wherein he has collected the fabulous stories,
|| impostures, forgeries, brutalities, follies, obscenities, ab-
Andrew. surdities, impossibilities, lies, and contradictions, which
' * Mahomet, in order to deceive the simple people, has
dispersed in the writings of that sect, and especially in
the Alcoran, which, as he says, was revealed to him
in one night by an angel, in the city of Meke ; though
in another place he contradicts himself, and affirms that
he was 20 years in composing it. Andreas tells us, he
wrote this work, that not only the learned amongst
Christians, but even the common people, might know
the different belief and doctrine of the Moors j and on
the one hand might laugh and ridicule such insolent
and brutal notions, and on the other might lament
their blindness and dangerous condition. This book,
which was published at first in Spanish, has been trans¬
lated into several languages j all those who write
against the Mahometans quote it very much.
ANDREINI, Isabella, a native of Padua, was
an excellent poetess, and one of the best comedians in
Italy, towards the beginning of the 17th century.
Ihe Intenti of Pavia thought they did their society an
honour by admitting her a member of it; and she, in
acknowledgement of this honour, never forgot to men¬
tion amongst her titles that of Academica Infanta ; her
titles were these, “ Isabella Andreini, comica, gelosa,
academica infanta, delta Paccessa.” She was also a
woman of extraordinary beauty : which, added to a
fine voice, made her charm both the eyes and ears of
the audience. She died of a miscarriage, at Lyons, the
10th of June 1604, in the 42d year of her age. Her
death being a matter of general concern and lamenta¬
tion, there were many Latin and Italian elegies print¬
ed to her memory : several of these pieces were placed
before her poems in the edition of Milan, in 1605.
Besides her sonnets, madrigals, songs, and eclogues,
there is a pastoral of hers entitled Myrtilla, and let¬
ters, printed at Venice in 1610. She sung extremely
well, played admirably on several instruments, under¬
stood the French and Spanish languages, and was not
unacquainted with philosophy.
ANDREL1NUS, Publius Faustus, born at
Forli in Italy. Fie was long time professor of poetry
and philosophy in the university of Paris. Louis XII.
of France made him his poet laureat; and Erasmus
tells us he was likewise poet to the queen. Flis pen
was not wholly employed in making verses ; for he
wrote also moral and proverbial letters in prose, which
were printed several times. His poems which are
chiefly in Latin, are inserted in vol. i. of the Delicice
Poetarum Italorum. M. de la Monnoie tells us, “ that
Andrelinus, when he was about 22 years old, received
the crown of laurel : That his love verses, divided in¬
to four Books, entitled Ltvia, from the name of his
mistress, were esteemed so fine by the Roman Acade¬
my, that they adjudged the prize of the Latin elegy
to the author.” He died in 1518. This author’s
manner of life was not very exemplary; yet he was so
fortunate, says Erasmus, that though he took the li¬
berty of rallying the divines, he was never brought in¬
to trouble about it.
ANDREW, St, the apostle, born at Bethsaida in
Galilee, brother to Simon Peter. He had been a dis¬
ciple of John the Baptist, and followed Jesus upon the
testimony given of him by the Baptist (John i. 30, 37,
Vol. II. Part I. f
&c.). He followed our Saviour with another of John’s An-kew
disciples, and went into the house where Jesus- lodged ; \\ "
here be continued from about four o’clock in the after- Andrew’s,
noon till it was night. This was the first disciple
whom our Saviour received into his train. Andrew
introduced his brother Simon, and they passed a day
with Christ, after which they went to the marriage in
Cana (?d. ii.), and at last returned to their ordinary
occupation. Some months after, Jesus meeting them
while they were both fishing together, called them to
him, and promised to make them fishers of men. Im¬
mediately they left their nets, followed him (Mat. iv.
19.), and never afterwards separated from him.
After our Saviour’s ascension, his apostles having
determined by lot what parts of the world they should
severally take, Scythia and the neighbouring countries
fell to St Andrew, who according to Eusebius, after
he had planted the gospel in several places, came to
Patrae in Aehaia, where, endeavouring to convert the
proconsul -ZEgeas, he was by that governor’s orders
scourged, and then crucified. The particular time of
his suffering martyrdom is not known ; but all the an¬
cient and modern martyrologies, both of the Greeks and
Latins, agree in celebrating his festival upon the 30th
of November. His body was embalmed, and decently
interred at Patrae by Maximilla, a lady of great quali¬
ty and estate. Afterwards it was removed to Constan¬
tinople by Constantine the Great, and buried in the
great church, which he had built to the honour of the
apostles. There is a cross to be seen at this day in the
church of St Victor at Marseilles, which is believed by
the Romanists to be the same that St Andrew was fast¬
ened to. It is in the shape of the letter X, and is en¬
closed in a silver shrine. Peter Chrysologus says, that
he was crucified upon a tree; and the spurious Hip-
polytus assures us it was an olive tree.
Andrew, or Knights of St Andrew, an order of
knights, more usually called the order of the Thistle.
See Thistle.
Knights oj St Andrew, is also an order instituted by
Peter the Great of Muscovy in 1698 ; the badge of
which is a golden medal; on one side whereof is re¬
presented St Andrew’s cross, with these words, Cazar
Pierre monarque de tout le Russie. This medal, being
fastened to a blue ribbon, is suspended from the right
shoulder. -
St Andrew's Cross, one in form of the letter X.
See Cross.
St Andrew's IAay, a festival of the Christian church,
celebrated on the 3°^ of November, in honour of the
apostle St Andrew.
ANDREW’S, St, a town of Fifeshire in Scotland,
once the metropolis of the Pictish kingdom, lying in
W. Long. 2. 25. N. Lat. 36. 18. If we may credit
legend, St Andrew’s owes its origin to a singular ac¬
cident. St Regulus (or Pule, as he is likewise called),
a Greek of Achaia, was warned by a vision to leave
his native country, and visit Albion, an isle placed in
the remotest part of the world ; and to take with him
the arm-bone, three fingers, and three toes, of St An¬
drew. He obeyed, and set sail with his companions,
but had a very tempestuous passage. After being tossed
for some time on a stormy sea, he was at last shipwreck¬
ed on the coast of Otholania, in the territories of Her-
gustus king of the Piets, in the year 370. On hear-
T t ing
AND [ 330 ] AND
ing of the arrival of the strangers, with their precious
relics, the king immediately gave orders tor their re¬
ception, afterwards presenting the saint with his owrn
palace, and building near it the church, which still
bears the name of St Regulus.
At this time the place was styled Mucross, or the
land of boars: all round was forest, and the lands be¬
stowed on the saint were called Byrehid. The boars
equalled in size the ancient Erymanthian j as a proof
of which, two tusks, each sixteen inches long and four
thick, were chained to the altar of St Andrew’s. St
Eegulus changed the name to Kilrymont; and establish¬
ed here the first Christian priests of the country, called
Culdees. The church was supreme in the kingdom of
the Piets; Ungus having granted to God and St An¬
drew, that it should be the head and mother of all the
churches in his dominion. He also directed that the
cross of St Andrew should become the badge of the
country. In 518, after the conquest of the Piets, he
removed the episcopal see to St Andrew’s, and the bi¬
shop was styled maximus Scotorum episcopus. In 1441,
it was erected into an archbishopric by Sextus IV. at
the intercession of James III. In 1616, the priory was
suppressed j and, in 1617, the power of election was
transferred to eight bishops, the principal of St Leo¬
nard’s college, the archdeacon, the vicars of St An¬
drew’s, Leuchars, and Cupar. This see contained the
greatest part of the shire of Fife, with a part of Perth,
Forfar, and Kincardine shires, and a great number of
parishes, churches, and chapels in other dioceses.
The town of St Andrew’s was erected into a royal
borough by David I. in the year 1140, and its privi¬
leges afterwards confirmed. The charter of Mal¬
colm II. is preserved in the tolbooth $ and appears
written on a bit of parchment, but the contents equally
valid with what would at this time require whole skins.
Here also are kept the silver keys of the city j which,
for form’s sake, are delivered to the king, if he should
visit the place, or to a victorious enemy, in token of sub¬
mission. In this place, likewise, is to be seen the mon¬
strous axe which, in 1646, took off the heads of Sir
Robert Spotswood and other distinguished loyalists.
The town underwent a siege in 1337 ; at which time
it was possessed by the English and other partisans of
Baliol; but the loyalists, under the earls of March and
Fife, made themselves masters of it in three weeks, by
the help of their battering machines.
St Andrew’s is now greatly reduced in the number
of its inhabitants. In 1811 they were about 3300. It
is impossible to ascertain the sum when it was the seat
of the primate j all that can be known is, that during
the period of its splendour, there were between sixty
and seventy bakers ; but now nine or ten are sufficient
for the place. It is a mile in circuit, and contains three
principal streets. On entering the west port, a well
built street, straight, and of a vast length and breadth,
appears ; but so grass-grown, and presenting such a
dreary solitude, that it forms the perfect idea of having
been laid waste by the pestilence.
The cathedral of St Andrew’s was founded by Bi¬
shop Arnold in 1161, but did not attain its full mag¬
nificence till 1318. Its length from east to west was
370 feet; that of the transept, 322. But though this
vast pile was 157 years in building, John Knox, in
June 1559? effected its demolition in a single day j and
3
so effectually has it been destroyed, that nothing now Andrew’s,
remains but part of the east and west ends, and of the —""V—*
south side.
Near the east end is the chapel of St Regulus ; the
tower of which is a lofty equilateral triangle, of 20 feet
each side, and 103 feet high j the body of the chapel
remains, but the two side chapels are ruined. The ar¬
ches of the windows and doors are round, and some
even more than semicircles j an undoubted proof of their
antiquity.
The priory was founded by Alexander I. in H22J
and the monks (canons regular of St Augustine) were
brought fi’om Scone in 1140, by Robert bishop of this
see. By an act of Parliament, in the time of James I.
the prior had precedence of all abbots and priors, and
on the days of festival wore a mitre and all episcopal
ornaments. Dependent on this priory were those of
Lochleven, Portmoak, Monimusk, the isle of May, and
Pittenweem, each originally a seat of the Culdees. The
revenues of the house were vast, viz. in money 223 7I.
2s. io|d. ; 38 chalders 1 boll 3 firlots of wheat j 132
ch. 7 bolls of bear $ 114 ch. 3 bolls 1 peck of meal j
151 ch. 10 bolls I firlot 1 peck and a half of oats j
3 ch. 7 bolls of pease and beans : 480 acres of land al¬
so belonged to it. Nothing remains of the priory except
the walls of the precinct, which show its vast extent.
In one part is a most artless gateway, formed only of
seven stones. This enclosure begins near the cathedral,
and extends to the shore.
The other religious houses were, one of Dominicans
founded in 1274, by Bishop Wishartj another of Ob-
servantines, founded by Bishop Kennedy, and finished
by his successor Patrick Graham in 1478; and, accor¬
ding to some, the Carmelites had a fourth.
Immediately above the harbour stood the collegiate
church of Kirk-heugh, originally founded by Constan¬
tine III. who, retiring from the world, became here a
Culdee. From its having been first built on a rock, it
was styled, Tdrcrposiltira Sanctee Marine de rape.
On the east side of the city are the poor remains of
the castle, on a rock overlooking the sea. This fortress
was founded in 1481, by Bishop Trail, who was buried
near the high altar of the cathedral, with this singular
epitaph:
Hicfuit ecclesice directa columna, fenestra
Lucida, thuribulum redolens, canipana sonora.
The castle was the residence of Cardinal Beaton j
who, after the death of George Wishart, apprehending
some danger, caused it to be fortified so strongly as to
be at that time deemed impregnable. In this fortress,
however, he was surprised and assassinated by Norman
Lesly with 15 others. They seized on the gate of the
castle early in the morning of May 29. 1546; it ha¬
ving been left open for the workmen who were finishing
the fortifications : and having placed sentinels at the
door of the cardinal’s apartment, they awakened his
numerous domestics one by one $ and, turning them
out of the castle, they, without violence, tumult, or of¬
fering an injury to any other person, inflicted on Bea¬
ton the death he justly merited. The conspirators were
immediately besieged in this castle by the regent, earl
of Arran j and notwithstanding they had acquired no
greater strength than 150 men, they resisted all his ef¬
forts for five months. This, however, was owing to
the
AND [ 33i ] AND
Andrew’s, the unskilfulness of the besiegers more than to the
——v—strength of the place or the valour of the besieged j
for in 1547 the castle was reduced and demolished.
The entrance of it is still to be seen ; and the window
is shown, out of which it is said the cardinal leaned to
glut his eyes with the cruel martyrdom of George
Wishart, who was burnt on a spot beneath.
In the church of St Salvator is a most beautiful tomb
of Bishop Kennedy, who died, an honour to his family,
in 1466. The Gothic work is uncommonly elegant.
Within the tomb were discovered six magnificent maces,
which had been concealed here in troublesome times.
One was given to each of the other three Scotch uni¬
versities, and three are preserved here. In the top is
represented our Saviour j around are angels, with the
instruments of the passion.
With these are shown some silver arrows, with large
silver plates affixed to them, on which are inscribed the
arms and names of the noble youth, victoi's in the an¬
nual competitions in the generous ax-t of archery, which
were dropt but a few years ago } and golf is now the
reigning game. That sport, and foot-ball, were foi’-
merlv pi’ohibited, as useless and unprofitable to the pub¬
lic ; and at all weapon schawings, or reviews of the
people, it was ordered, that fute-ball and golfe be utter*
ly cryed down, and that bowe-markes be made at ilk pa¬
rish kirk, a pair of butts and schutting be used; and
that ilk man schutte sex shottes at least, under the paine
to be raiped upon them that cummes not, at least tiva
pennyes to be given to them that cummis to the bow-
mark.es to drink.
The celebrated university of this city was founded
in 1411, by Bishop Wardlaw. It consisted once of
three colleges. 1. St Salvator’s, founded in 1458, by
Bishop Kennedy. This is a handsome building, with
a court or quadrangle within : on one side is the
church, on another the library ; the third contains
apartments for students : the fourth is unfinished.
2. St Leonard’s college was founded by Pi’ior Hep¬
burn, in 1522. This is now united with the last, and
the buildings sold, and converted into pi’ivate houses.
3. The new, or St Mary’s college, was established by
Archbishop Hamilton in 1552 } but the house was built
by James and David Bethune, or Beaton, who did not
live to complete it. This is said to have been the site
of a schola illustris long before the establishment even
of the university, where several eminent clergymen
taught, gratis, the sciences and languages. But it was
called the new college, because of its late erection into
a divinity college by the archbishop.
The university is governed by a chancelloi’, an of¬
fice originally designed to be perpetually vested in the
archbishop of St Andrews *, but since the Beformation,
he is elected by the two principals, and the professors
of both the colleges.
The rector is the next great officer 5 to whose cai’e
are committed the privileges, discipline, and statutes of
the university. The colleges have their rectors, and
professoi's of different sciences, who are indefatigable in
their attention to the instruction of the students, and
to that essential article their morals. The place pos¬
sesses sevei’al very great advantages respecting the edu¬
cation of youth. The air is pure and salubrious j the
place for exercise, dry and extensive ; the exercises
themselves are healthy and innocent. The university
is fixed in a peninsulated country ; remote from all Andrew'*,
commerce with the world, the haunt of dissipation. Andrews.
From the smallness of the society, every student’s cha- "v
racter is perfectly known. No little irregularity can
be committed, but it is instantly discovered and check¬
ed: vice cannot attain a head in this place, for the in¬
corrigible are never permitted to remain the corrupters
of the rest.
The trade of St Andrew’s was once very consider¬
able. So late as the reign of Charles I. this place had
thirty or forty trading vessels, and carried on a consi¬
derable herring and white fishery, by means of busses,
in deep xvaterj which fisheries had for ages been the
grand source of their commerce, wealth, and splendour.
After the death of the king, this whole coast, and St
Andrew’s in particular, became a scene of murder,
plunder, and rapine : every town suffered in propor¬
tion to its magnitude and opulence. Nor were those
hypocritical ruffians satisfied with the shipping, mer¬
chandise, plate, cattle, and whatever came within their
sight $ tlxey also laid the whole coast under contribu¬
tion. St Andrew’s was required to pay icool. ; but
the inhabitants not being able to raise that sum after
being thus plundered, the general compounded for
500I. which was raised by a loan at interest, and hath
remained a burden upon the corporation, it is believed,
ever since.
The harbour is artificial, guarded by piers, with a
nari’ow entrance, to give shelter to vessels from the vio¬
lence of a very heavy sea, by the encroachments of
which it has suffered much. The manufactures this
city might in former times possess, are now reduced to
one, that of golf balls ; which, trifling as it may seem,
maintains a great number of people. It is, howevex*,
commonly fatal to the artists 5 for the balls are made
by stuffing a great quantity of feathers into a leathern
case, by help of an iron rod, with a wooden handle,
pressed against the breast, which seldom fails to bring
on a consumption.
Andrews, Lancelot, bishop of Winchester, was
born at London in 1555, and educated at Cambridge.
After several preferments, he was made bishop, fii’st of
Chichester, then of Ely, and, in 1610, was raised to
the see of Winchester. This very learned prelate, who
was distinguished by his piety, charity, and integrity,
may be justly ranked xvith the best preachers and com-
pletest scholars of his age } he appeared to much great¬
er advantage in the pulpit than he does now in his
works, which abound wuth Latin quotations and trivial
witticisms. His sermons, though full of puns, were
suited to the taste of the times in which he lived, and
were consequently greatly admired. He was a man of
polite manners and lively conversation j and could quote
Greek and Latin authors, or even pun, with King James.
There is a pleasant story related of him in the life of
Waller the poet. WThen that gentleman was young, he
had the curiosity to go to court, and stood in the circle
to see King James dine ; where, among other company,
there sat at table two bishops, Neale and Andrews.
The king proposed aloud this question, Whether he
might not take his subjects money when he needed it,
without all this formality of parliament? Neale replied,
“ God forbid you should not j for you are the breath
of our nostrils.” W hereupon the king turned, and said
to the bishop of W inchester, “ W ell, my lord, what
T t 2 say
AND [ 332 ] AND
Andrews say you ?” tl Sir (replied the bishop), I have no skill
(| to judge of parliamentary cases.” The king answer-
Androgeus. e(]) “ ]\T0 put-offs, my lord j answer me presently.”
' v “ Then, Sir (said he), I think it lawful for you to take
my brother Neale’s money, for he offers it.” Mr Wal¬
ler says, the company was pleased with this answer, but
the wit of it seemed to affect the king 5 for a certain
lord coming soon after, his majesty cried out, “ O, my
lord, they say you lig with my lady.” “ No, Sir (says
his lordship, in confusion), but I like her company
because she has so much wit.” “ Why then (says the
king) do not you lig with my lord of Winchester
there ?” This great prelate was in no less reputation
and esteem with King Charles J. than he had been with
his predecessors. He died at Winchester house in
Southwark, September 27. 1626, in the 71st year of
his age; and was buried in the parish church of St Sa¬
viour’s, where his executors erected to him a very fair
monument of marble and alabaster, on which is an ele¬
gant inscription, in Latin, written by one of his chap¬
lains. Milton also, at 17 years of age, wrote a beauti¬
ful elegy on his death, in the same language. Bishop
Andrews had, 1. A share in the translation of the
Pentateuch, and the historical books from Joshua to the
first book of Chronicles exclusively. He also wrote,
2. Tortura Torti, in answer to a work of Cardinal Bel-
larmine, in which that cardinal assumes the name of
Matthew Tortus. 3. A Manual of Private Devotions j
and, 4. A Manual of Directions for the Visitation of
the Sick; besides the Sermons and Tracts, in English
and Latin, published after his death.
Andrews, James Pettit, a late English writer. See
Supplement.
ANDRIA, in Grecian antiquity, public entertain¬
ments first instituted by Minos of Crete, and, after his
example, appointed by Lycurgus at Sparta, at which
a whole city or a tribe assisted. They were managed
with the utmost frugality 5 and persons of all ages were
admitted.
Andria, a city and a bishop’s see in the territory
of Bari, in the kingdom of Naples. It is pretty large,
well peopled, and seated in a spacious plain, four miles
from the Adriatic coast. E. Long. i7.4.N.Lat.4l. 15.
ANDRISCUS, a man of mean extraction, who,
pretended to be the son of Perseus last king of Mace¬
donia, took upon him the name of Philip, for which
reason he was called Pseudo-Philippits, the False Philip.
After a complete victory over Juventus, the Roman
praetor sent against him, he assumed kingly power, but
exercised it with vast cruelty. At last, the Romans
obliged him to fly into Thrace, where he was betrayed
and delivered into the hands of Metellus. This vic¬
tory gained Macedonia once more into the power of
the Romans, and to Metellus the name of Macedonicus,.
hut cost the Romans 25,000 men. Andriscus adorned
the triumph of Metellus, walking in chains before the
general’s chariot.
ANDROAS, or Androdamas, among ancient na¬
turalist, a kind of pyritae, to which they attributed cer¬
tain magical virtues.
AND ROC ■ CUB, in fabulous history, the son of
Minos king of Crete, was murdered by the Athenian
youth and those of Megara, who envied his being al¬
ways victor at the Attic games. But Minos having
taken Athens and Megara, obliged the inhabitants to Andro-
send him an annual tribute of seven young men and as gynes.
many virgins, to be devoured by the Minotaur j but^ 
Theseus delivered them from that tribute.
ANDROGYNES, in Natural History, a name giv¬
en to those living creatures which, by a monstrous for¬
mation of their generative parts, seem (for it is only
seeming) to unite in themselves the two sexes, that of
the male and of the female. This lusus naturce, this
defect, or perhaps redundancy, in the animal structure,
is described by medical authors in the following man¬
ner : “ There is a depravation in the structure of the
parts intended by nature for propagation, when, be¬
sides those concealed parts that are found necessary for
the discharge of prolific functions, the pudenda of the
other sex likewise appear. This monstrous production
of nature is diversified in four different ways j of
which three appear in males and one in females. In
men, the female pudendum, clothed with hair, some¬
times appears contiguous to the perinseum j at other
times, in the middle of the scrotum j at other times,
which constitutes the third diversity, through that part
itself which in the midst of the scrotum exhibits the
form of a pudendum, urine is emitted. Near that part
which is the test of puberty, and above the pudendum,
even in females, the masculine genitals appear in some,
conspicuous in all their three forms, one resembling
the veretrum or yard, the other like the two testicles :
but for the most part it happens, that, of the two in¬
struments of generation, one is feeble and inert j and
it is extremely rare that both are found sufficiently va¬
lid and proper for feats of love : nay, even in a great
many, both these members are dt ficient and impotent,
so that they can perform the office neither of a male
nor of a female.”
AVith respect to them, it appears, from a collation
of all the circumstances which have been observed by
naturalists worthy of credit, that there is no such thing
as a perfect androgyne, or real hermaphrodite $ that
is to say, a living creature, which, by its unnatural, or
rather preternatural structure, possesses the genuine
powers of both sexes, in such a manner as to be qua-
lifled lor performing the functions of either with suc¬
cess : the irregularity of their fabrication almost always
consists in something superfluous added to one of the
two sexOs, which gives it the appearance of the other,
without bestowing the real and characteristical distinc¬
tion j and every hermaphrodite vs> almost always a very
woman. Since this monstrous exhibition of nature is.
not such as to abrogate the rights or destroy the cha¬
racter of humanity amongst human beings, this invo¬
luntary misfortune implies no right to deprive those
upon whom it is inflicted by nature of the privileges
natural to every citizen 5 and as this deficiency is no
more infectious than any other corporeal mutilation, it
is not easy to see why marriage should be prohibited to
one of these unhappy beings, merely on account of its
equivocal appearance, which acts in the character of its.
prevailing sex. If such a creature, by the defect of its
construction, should be barren, this does not infer any
right of dissolving the marriage which it may have con¬
tracted, more than the same sterility proceeding from
any cause whether known or unknown, if his or her
consort should not on that account require a divorce.
it
2
?
AND [ 333 1 AND
Andro- It is only the licentious abuse either of one or the other
gynes. sex which can be subjected to the animadversion of the
—  'police. See Hermaphrodite.
Such are the sentiments of the authors of the French
Encyclopedic. After all, we cannot forbear to add
that from such heterogeneous matches nature seems to
recoil with innate and inextinguishable horror. Nor are
any of these invincible aversions implanted in our frame
without a final cause worthy of its Author. We would
gladly ask these free-thinking gentlemen, In cases
where the sexes are so unnaturally confounded, how
the police can, by its most severe and rigorous animad¬
versions, either detector prevent those licentious abuses
against which they remonstrate ? Since, therefore,
an evil so baneful to human society could no otherwise
be prevented than by the sanction of Nature against
such horrible conjunctions, the instinctive antipathy
which they inspire was highly worthy of her wisdom
and purity.
Androgynes, in ancient mythology, creatures of
whom, according to the fable, each individual possessed
the powers and characters of both sexes, having two
heads,* four arms, and two feet. The word itself is
compounded of two Greek radical words j in ge¬
nitive a male ; and yovii, a female. Many of the
rabbinical writers pretend, that Adam was created
double, one body being male, the other female, which
in their origin not being essentially joined, God after¬
wards did nothing but separate them.
The gods, says Plato in his Banquet, had formed
the structure of man round, with two bodies and two
sexes. This fantastic being, possessing in itself the
whole human system, was endowed with a gigantic
force, which rendered it insolent, insomuch that it re¬
solved to make war against the gods. Jupiter, ex¬
asperated, was going to destroy it \ but, sorry at the
same time to annihilate the human race, he satisfied him¬
self with debilitating this double being, by disjoining
the male from the female, and leaving each half to sub¬
sist with its own powers alone. He assigned to Apollo
the task of repolishing these two half bodies, and of
extending their skins so that the whole surface might
be covered. Apollo obeyed, and fastened it at the um¬
bilicus ; If this half should still rebel, it was once more
to be subdivided by another section, which would on¬
ly leave it one of the parts of which it was then con¬
stituted ; and even this fourth of a man was to be an¬
nihilated', if it should persist in its obstinacy and mis¬
chief. The idea of these androgynes might well be
borrowed from a passage in Moses, where that histo¬
rian of the birth and infancy of nature, describes
Adam as calling Eve bone of his bone and flesh of his
flesh. However this may be, the fable of Plato has
been used with great ingenuity by a French poet, who
has been rendered almost as conspicuous by his misfor¬
tunes as by his verses. With the ancient philosopher,
he attributes the propensity which attracts one of the
sexes towards the other, to the natural ardour which
each half of the androgynes feels for re-union; and
their inconstancy, to the difficulty which each of the
separated parts encounters in its efforts to recover its
proper and original half. If a woman appears to us
amiable, we instantly imagine her to be that moiety
with whom we should only have constituted one whole,
had it not been for the insolence of our original double- Androgy
sexed progenitor: nous,
. ,, Androides.
The heart, with fond credulity impress’d,
Tells us the half is found, and hopes for rest ;
But ’tis our curse, that sad experience shows,
We neither find our half, nor gain repose.
ANDROGYNOUS, in Zoology, an appellation given
to animals which have both the male and female sex in
the same individual.—In Botany, the term is applied to
such plants as bear both male and female flowers on
the same root.
ANDROIDES, in Mechanics, a human figure,
which, by certain springs or other movements, is
capable of performing some of the natural motions
of a living man. The motions of the human body-
are more complicated, and consequently more difficult
to be imitated, than those of any other creature ;
whence the construction of an androides, in such a
manner as to imitate any of these actions with tolerable
exactness, is justly supposed to indicate a greater skill
in mechanics than any other piece of workmanship
whatever.
A very remarkable figure of this kind appeared
in Paris, in the year 1738. It represented a flute-
player, and was capable of performing many different
pieces of music on the German flute j which, consider¬
ing the difficulty of blowing that instrument, the dif¬
ferent contractions of the lips necessary to produce the
distinctions between the high and low notes, and the
complicated motions of the fingers, must appear truly
wonderful.
This machine was the invention of M. Vaucanson.,
member of the Royal Academy of Sciences j and a par¬
ticular description of it was published in the Memoirs
of the Academy for that year.
The figure itself was about five feet and a half in
height, situated at the end of an artificial rock, and
placed upon a square pedestal four feet and a half high
and three and a half broad. The air entered the body
by three pipes separated one from the other. It was
conveyed to them by nine pair of bellows, three of
which were placed above and six below. Tnese were
made to expand and contract regularly in succession by
means of an axis of steel turned round by some clock¬
work. On this axis were different protuberances at
proper distances, to which were fixed cords thrown
over pulleys, and terminating in the upper boards of the
bellows, so that, as the axis turned, these boards were
alternately raised and let down. A contrivance was
also used to prevent the disagreeable hissing fluttering
noise usually attending the motion of bellows. Jhis
was by making the cord, by which the bellows was -
moved, press, in its descent, upon one end of a smaller
lever, the other end of which ascending forced open
the small leathern valve that admitted the air, and kept
it so, till, the cord being relaxed by the descent of the
upper board, the lever fell, and the air was forced out.
Thus the bellows performed their functions constantly
without the least hissing, or other noise, by which it
could be judged in what manner the air was conveyed
to the machine. The upper boards of three of the
pairs of bellows were pressed down by a weight of fouE
pounds, that of three others by a weight of two pounds,
ansU
AND [ 334 ] AND
Androides. and those of the three remaining ones by nothing but
* v~—“ their own weight.
The three tubes, by which the air entered, terminat¬
ed in three small reservoirs in the trunk of the figure.
There they united, and, ascending towards the throat,
formed the cavity of the mouth, which terminated in
two small lips adapted in some measure to perform their
proper functions. Within this cavity also was a small
moveable tongue •, which, by its play, at proper pe¬
riods, admitted the air, or intercepted its passage to
the flute.
The fingers, lips, and tongue, received their proper
directions by means of a steel cylinder turned by clock¬
work. It w'as divided into i 5 equal parts, which by
means of pegs pressing upon the ends of 15 different le¬
vers, caused the other extremities to ascend. Seven of
these levers directed the fingers, having wires and
chains affixed to their ascending extremities, which be¬
ing attached to the fingers, caused them ascend in pro¬
portion as the other extremity was pressed down by the
motion of the cylinder, and vice versa. Thus the as¬
cent or descent of one end of a lever produced a simi¬
lar ascent or descent in the corresponding finger, by
which one of the holes of the flute was occasionally
opened or stopped, as by a living performer. Three of
the levers served to regulate the ingress of the air, be¬
ing contrived so as to open and shut, by means of
valves, the three reservoirs of air above mentioned, so
that more or less strength might be given, and a higher
or lower note produced as occasion required. The lips
were, by a similar mechanism, directed by four levers,
one of which opened them, to give the air a freer pas¬
sage ; the other contracted them •, the third drew them
backward j and the fourth pushed them forward. The
lips were projected upon that part of the flute which
receives the air •, and, by the different motions already
mentioned, modified the tone in a proper manner.—
The remaining lever was employed in the direction of
the tongue, which it easily moved so as to shut or
open the mouth of the flute.
Thus we see how all the motions necessary for a
German flute player could be performed by this ma¬
chine ; but a considerable difficulty still remains, name¬
ly, howto regulate these motions properly, and make
each of them follow in just succession. This, however,
was effected by the following simple method. The ex¬
tremity of the axis of the cylinder was terminated on
the right side by an endless screw, consisting of twelve
threads, each placed at the distance of a line and a
half from the other. Above this screw was fixed a
piece of copper, and in it a steel pivot, which, falling
in between the threads of the screw, obliged the cy¬
linder to follow the threads, and, instead of turning
directly round, it was continually pushed to one side.
Hence, if a lever was moved, by a peg placed on the
cylinder, in any one revolution, it could not be moved
by the same peg in the succeeding revolution, because
the peg would be moved a line and a half beyond it
by the lateral motion of the cylinder. Thus, by an ar-
■ tificial disposition of those pegs in different parts of
the cylinder, the statue was made, by the successive
elevation of the proper levers, to exhibit all the dif¬
ferent motions of a flute-player, to the admiration of
every one who saw it.
The construction of machines capable of imitating
even the mechanical actions of the human body, show Androides.
exquisite skill ; but what shall we say of one capable, —v—»
not only of imitating actions of this kind, but of acting
as external circumstances require, as though it were en¬
dued with life and reason ? This, nevertheless, has been
done. M. de Kempelen, a gentleman of Presburg in
Hungary, excited by the performances of M. de Vau-
canson, at first endeavoured to imitate them, and at
last far excelled them. This gentleman constructed an
androides capable of playing at chess !—Everyone who
is in the least acquainted with this game must know,
that it is so far from being mechanically performed, as
to require a greater exertion of the judgment and ra¬
tional faculties than is sufficient to accomplish many
matters of greater importance. An attempt, therefore,
to make a wooden chess-player, must appear as ridicu¬
lous as to make a wooden preacher or counsellor of
state. That this machine really was made, however,
the public have had ocular demonstration. The inven¬
tor came over to Britain in 1783, where he remained
above a year with his automaton.
It is a figure as large as life, in a Turkish dress, sit¬
ting behind a table, with doors of three feet and a half
in length, two in depth, and two and a half in height.
The chair on which it sits is fixed to the table, which
runs on four wheels. The automaton leans its right
arm on the table, and in its left hand holds a pipe :
with this hand it plays after the pipe is removed. A
chess board of 18 inches is fixed before it. This table
or rather cupboard, contains wheels, levers, cylinders,
and other pieces of mechanism 5 all which are publicly
displayed. The vestments of the automaton are then
lifted over its head, and the body is seen full of similar
wheels and levers. There is a little door in its thigh,
which is likewise opened 5 and with this, and the table
also open, and the automaton uncovered, the whole is
wheeled about the room. The doors are then shut, and
the automaton is ready to play ; and it always takes
the first move.
At every motion the wheels are heard $ the image
moves its head, and looks over every part of the chess
board. When it checks the queen, it shakes its head
twice, and thrice in giving check to the king. It
likewise shakes its bead when a false move is made, re¬
places the piece, and makes its own move j by which
means the adversary loses one.
M. de Kempelen remarks as the most surprising cir¬
cumstance attending his automaton, that it had been
exhibited at Presburg, Vienna, Paris, and London, to
thousands, many of whom were mathematicians and
chess-players, and yet the secret by which he governed
the motion ol its arm was never discovered. He prided
himself solely in the construction of the mechanical
powers, by which the arm could perform ten or twelve
moves. It then required to be wound up like a watch,
after which it was capable of continuing the same num¬
ber of motions.
The automaton could not play unless M. de Kem¬
pelen or his substitute was near it to direct its moves.
A small square box, during the game, w'as frequently
consulted by the exhibiterj and herein consisted the
secret, which he said he could in a moment commu¬
nicate. He who could beat M. de Kempelen was,
of course, certain of conquering the automaton. It
w'as made in 1769. His own account of it was:
“ C’est
AND [ 335 ] AND
AncU'oides
II
Androna.
“ C’est une bagatelle qul n’est pas sans merite du cote
du mechanisme: mais les efFets n’en parolssent si nier-
veilleux que par la hardiesse de I’idee, et par I’heureux
choix des moyens employes pour faire illusion.”
The strongest and best armed loadstone was allowed
to be placed on the machine by any of the spectators.
As the inventor of this admirable piece of mechanism
hath not yet thought proper to communicate to the
public the means by which it is actuated, it is in vain
for any, except those who are exquisitely skilled in me¬
chanics, to form conjectures concerning them.—Many
other curious imitations of the human body, as well as
that of other animals, have been exhibited, though none
of them equal to the last mentioned one. See the ar¬
ticle Automaton.
ANDROLEPSY, in Grecian antiquity, an action
allowed by the Athenians against such as protected
persons guilty of murder. The relations of the deceas¬
ed were empowered to seize three men in the city or
house whither the malefactor had fled, till he were
either surrendered, or satisfaction made some way or
other for the murder.
ANDROMACHE, the wife of the valiant Hector,
the mother of Astyanax, and daughter of Eetion king
of Thebes in Cilicia. After the death of Hector and
the destruction of Troy, she married Pyrrhus $ and af¬
terwards Helenus the son of Priam, with whom she
reigned over part of Epirus.
ANDROMEDA, in Astronomy, a northern con¬
stellation, behind Pegasus, Cassiopeia, and Perseus. It
represents the figure of a woman chained 5 and is
fabled to have been formed in memory of Andromeda,
daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, and wife of Per¬
seus, by whom she had been delivered from a sea mon¬
ster, to which she had been exposed to be devoured
for her mother’s pride. Minerva translated her into
the heavens.
The stars in the constellation Andromeda, in Ptole¬
my’s catalogue are 23, in Tycho’s 22, in Bayer’s 27,
in Mr Flamsted’s no less than 84.
Andromeda, the name of a celebrated tragedy of
Euripides, admired by the ancients above all the other
compositions of that poet, but now lost.
It was the representation of this play, in a hot sum¬
mer day, that occasioned that epidemic fever, or phren-
sy, for which the Abderites are often mentioned, where¬
in they wTalked about the streets, rehearsing verses, and
acting parts of this piece. See Abdera.
Andromeda, or March Cystus. See Botany Index.
ANDRON, in Grecian antiquity, denotes the apart¬
ment in houses designed for the use of men *, in which
sense it stands opposed to Gynceceum.—The Greeks
also gave their dining-rooms the title of andron, be¬
cause the women had no admittance to feasts with the
men.
ANDRONA, in ancient writers, denotes a street,
or public place, where people met and conversed toge¬
ther. In some writers, androna is more expressly used
for the space between two houses j in which sense, the
Greeks also use the term ui/dg&vxs, for the way or pas¬
sage between two apartments.
Androna is also used, in ecclesiastical writers, for
that part in churches destined for the men. Anciently
it was the custom for the men and women to have sepa¬
rate apartments in places of worship, where they per¬
formed their devotions asunder j which method is still
religiously observed in the Greek church. The
or androna, was in the southern side of the church, and ,
the women’s apartment on the northern.
ANDRON1CUS I. Comnenus, emperor of the
East, was the son of Isaac, and grandson of Alexius
Comnenus. Naturally endowed with a vigorous habit
of body, and a firm mind, active, temperate, martial,
and eloquent, he shines as one of the most conspicuous
characters of his age. Following the bent of his incli¬
nation, he attended the Roman army in their retreat 5
but in their march through Asia Minor, wandering in¬
to the mountains, he fell into the hands of some Tur¬
kish huntsmen, was carried to the sultan, and remained
his prisoner. But regaining his liberty, both his virtues
and vices soon recommended him to the favour of his
cousin Manuel, the reigning emperor. The vicious
heart of Andronicus manifested itself clearly in main¬
taining a licentious correspondence with Eudocia the
emperor’s niece, while the emperor himself lived in
public incest with her sister Theodora. His martial
spirit gained him a considerable command in Cilicia,
where he laid siege to Mopsuestia: hut by a successful
sally of the enemy, he was obliged to raise the siege,
and retire in considerable disorder. Inflamed with a
desire of revenging the infamy of their sister in his
blood, the brothers of Eudocia made an unsuccessful
attempt to assassinate Andronicus at midnight in his
tent j but being providentially awakened, he defended
himself with surprising bravery, forced his way through
his enemies, and escaped in safety. Afterwards en¬
gaging in a treasonable correspondence, with the em¬
peror of Germany and the king of Hungary, he was
arrested, and thrown into confinement. He remained
in this state about twelve years, and after several re¬
peated attempts to escape, he at last eflectuated his pur¬
pose, and fled for refuge to the court of the great duke
of Russia. The cunning of Andronicus soon found
means to regain his favour with the emperor Manuel \
for having exerted all his influence, he succeeded in
obtaining the Russian prince, to engage to join his troops
with those of Manuel, in the invasion of Hungary.
Accordingly, on account of his important service, he
obtained a free pardon from the emperor, and after an
expedition to the Danube, returned with him to Con¬
stantinople. He again fell under the displeasure of the
emperor, by refusing to take an oath ot allegiance to
the prince of Hungary, his intended son-in-law, and
consequently presumptive heir to the crown, and was
thereupon returned to his former command in Cilicia.
While residing here, his powerful address captivated
the heart of Philippa, daughter of the Latin prince of
Antioch, and sister to the empress Maria ; and in her
company, he spent his time in all the amusements that
country could afford, till the emperor’s resentment put
a stop to their correspondence. Tlhus circumstanced,
he collected a hand of adventurers, and undertook a
pilgrimage to the holy land, where by his insinuating
turn of mind, he so far succeeded in gaining the favour
of the king and clergy, as to be invested with the
lordship of Berytus on the coast of Phoenicia. In tms
neighbourhood, Theodora the beautilul widow of Bald¬
win, king of Jerusalem, and nearly allied in blood to
him, resided. The personal accomplishments and ad¬
dress of Andronicus captivated her heart, and she be¬
came
Androna,
Androni-
AND [ 336 1 AND
Androni- came the third victim to his artful seduction, and lived
cus. publicly as his concubine. Still pursued by the em-
v peror with unabating resentment, he was forced to take
refuge in Damascus, and then in several other places
in the east, till at length he settled in Asia Minor.
While residing here, he made frequent incursions into
the province of Trebizond, and seldom returned without
success. After several occurrences, Theodora was
made captive, by the governor ot 1 rebizond, along
with her two children, and sent to Constantinople: up¬
on which Andromcus implored and obtained pardon.
He acted the affected penitent in such a manner, that
he again ingratiated himself into the favours both of
the church and state : but was sent to dwell at Oenoe,
a town situated on the Euxine coast.
In the year 1177 Manuel died, and was succeeded
by his son Alexius II. a youth about twelve or fourteen
years of au;e, without wisdom or experience, by which
the ambition of Andronicus was again called into ac¬
tion. A civil war having been occasioned, by the
misconduct of the empress in Constantinople, the pub¬
lic mind was directed towards Andronicus, as the only
person whose rank and accomplishments could restore
the public tranquillity. Incited by the patriarchs and
patricians, he marched towards Constantinople, which
lie entered, took possession of the palace, confined the
empress, consigned her minister to death, assumed the
office of protector, put to death many persons of distinc¬
tion, tried and executed the queen, on a charge of cor¬
responding with the king of Hungary, and vowed fi¬
delity to the young emperor upon his coronation, at
the same time teaching the necessity of an experienced
x’uler, to assuage the evils that threatened the empire j
upon which his adherents called out “ Long live Alex¬
ius and Andronicus, Homan emperors.” While ho af¬
fected reluctance, he was elevated to a partnership in
the empire. This conjunction of the royal power was
soon dissolved, by the murder of the unfortunate Alex¬
ius. The body of the deceased being brought into his
presence, striking it with his foot, he said, “ Thy father
was a knave, thy mother a whore, and thyself a fool.”
Having arrived at the dignity of sole emperor, A. D.
1183, he continued to sway the sceptre, with a mixture
of justice and bounty towards his subjects at large, but
those whom he feared or hated he governed with the
most cruel tyranny. The noble families that were either
cut off, or exiled by him, were all allied to the Comneni.
Some of these were engaged in revolt j and the public
calamity was heightened, by an invasion of the Sicilians,
in which they took and sacked Thessalonica. A rival
without merit, and a people without arms, at last over¬
turned his throne. A descendant from the first Alexius,
in the female line, named Isaac Angelus, being singled
out by Andronicus, as a victim to his cruelty, he with
courage and resolution defended his life and liberty,
slew his executioner, fled to the church of St Sophia,
and there took refuge with several of his friends. Isaac
was instantly raised by the populace, from a sanctuary
to a throne. When this event took place, Andronicus
was absent from Constantinople *, but he no sooner heard
of it, than he with the utmost speed returned. Upon
his arrival there, he found himself deserted by all, and
was seized, and dragged in chains before the new em¬
peror. All the eloquence he displayed was of no avail j
for Isaac delivered him into the hands of those whom
he had injured, and for the space of three days, he en- Androni-
dured with uncommon patience, all the insults and tor- cus
ments that were inflicted upon him. In the midst of H
these he would frequently cry out, “ Lord have mercy , •^nt^l08‘
upon me,” and, “ why will you bruise a broken reed.” v~"~
At last, two friendly or furious Italians, plunging their
swords into his body, put a period to his life. His death,
in the 73d year of his age, terminated the dynasty of
the Comneni. {Gen. Biog.).
Andronicus of Cyrrhus, an Athenian astronomer,
built at Athens an octagon tower, with figures carved
on each side, representing the eight principal winds.
A brass Triton at the summit, with a rod in its hand,
turned round by the wind, pointed to the quarter from
whence it blew. From this model is derived the custom
of placing weathercocks on steeples.
ANDROPHAGI, in Ancient Geography, the name
of a nation whose country, according to Herodotus,
was adjacent to Scythia. Their name, compounded of
two Greek words, signifies man-eaters. Herodotus
does not inform us whether their manner of subsisting
corresponded with their name: whether they were so
savage as to eat human flesh. See the article Anthro¬
pophagi. They are represented, however, as the
most barbarous and fierce of all nations. They were
not governed by laws j the care of their cattle was
their chief employment. Their dress was like that of
the Scythians 5 and they had a language peculiar to
themselves.
ANDROPOGON, or Man’s-Beard. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ANDROS, one of the ancient Cyclades, lying be¬
tween Tenedos and Eubcea: being one mile distant
from the former, and ten from the latter. The ancients
gave it various names, viz. Cauros, Lasia, Nonagria,
Epagris, Antandros, and Hydrusia. The name of
Andros it received from one Andreus, appointed, ac¬
cording to Diodorus Siculus, by Rhadamanthus, one
of the generals, to govern the Cyclades, after they had
of their own accord submitted to him. As to the name
of Antandros, the same author tells us, that Ascanius
the son of Htneas, being taken prisoner by the Pelas-
gians, gave them this island for his ransom, which on
that account was called Antandros, or “ delivered for
one man.” The name of Hydrusia it obtained in com¬
mon with other places well supplied with water. It
had formerly a city of great note, bearing the same
name, and situated very advantageously on the brow
of a hill, which commanded the whole coast. In this
city, according to Strabo and Pliny, stood a famous
temple dedicated to Bacchus. Near this temple, Mu-
tianus, as quoted by Pliny, tells us, there xvas a spring
called the gift of Jupiter ; the Avater of which had the
taste of wine in the month of January, during the feast
of Bacchus, which lasted seven days. The same author
adds, that the waters, if carried to a place Avhence the
the temple could not be seen, lost their miraculous taste.
Pausanias makes no mention of this spring $ but says,
that, during the feast of Bacchus, wine floAved, or was
at least by the Andrians believed to flow, from the
temple of that god. The priests, no doubt, found their
account in keeping up this belief, by conveying, through
secret conduits, a great quantity of wine into the
temple.
The Andrians were the first of all the islanders who
joined
AND [ 337 ] A N E
Audio*, joined the Persians at the time Xerxes invaded Greece ;
—v—' and thei-efore Themistocles, after the victory at Sala-
mis, resolved to attack the city of Andros, and oblige
the inhabitants to pay large contributions for the main¬
tenance of his fleet. Having landed his men on the
island, he sent heralds to the magistrates, acquainting
them, that the Athenians were coming against them
with two powerful divinities, persuasion and force ; and
therefore they must part with their money by fair
means or foul. The Andrians replied, That they like¬
wise had two mighty deities who were very fond of
their island, x'vl. poverty and impossibility; and there¬
fore could give no money. Themistocles, not satisfied
with this answer, laid siege to the town ; which he
probably made himself master of and destroyed, as we
are informed by Plutarch, that Pericles, a few years
after, sent thither a colony of 250 Athenians. It was,
however, soon retaken by the Persians ; and, on the
overthrow of that empire by Alexander the Great,
submitted to him, along with the other islands. On
his death it sided with Antigonus, who was driven out
by Ptolemy. The successors of the last mentioned
prince held it till the time of the Romans; when At¬
tains, king of Pergamus, besieged the metropolis at
the head of a Roman army; and, having taken it,
was by them put in possession of the whole island. Up¬
on the death of Attains the republic claimed this
island, as well as his other dominions, in virtue of his
last will.
Andros is now subject to the Turks j and contains
a town of the same name, with a great many villages.
It is the most fruitful island in all the Archipelago,
and yields a great quantity of silk. There are said to
he about 12,000 inhabitants, besides those of the vil¬
lages Arni and Amoldeos, who are about two hundred,
have a different language and customs, and are called
Sllbanois. There are seven monasteries, a great num¬
ber of churches, and a cathedral for the bishops of the
Roman Catholic persuasion 5 but most of the inhabi¬
tants are of the Greek communion. The Jesuits had
a house and a church in this island j but they were
forced to quit them long ago. Here are some delight¬
ful valleys $ but the air is had, and the water of the
city worse. The women would be agreeable enough,
if it was not for their dress, which is very unbecoming;
for they stuff’ out their clothes without the least regard
to their shape : but the Albanese women make a much
better appearance. The peasants make wicker-baskets,
wherewith they supply the greatest part of the Ar¬
chipelago. They have all sorts of game in the woods
and mountains, but know not how to take them for
want of guns. Their principal food is goats flesh ; lor
there is no fish to be met with on their coasts. When
” they are sick, they are obliged to let the disease take
its natural course, having neither physician nor surgeon
on the island. A cadi, assisted by a few of the prin¬
cipal persons of the island, has the management of ci¬
vil affairs, and his residence is in the castle : an aga,
who presides over the military force, lives in a tower
without the city. About two miles from the present
town are still to be seen the ruins of a strong wall, with
the fragments of many columns, chapiters, bases, bro¬
ken statues, and several inscriptions, some of which
mention the senate and people of Andros, and the
Vol. II. Part I. t
priests of Bacchus ; from which it is probable that this Andros
was the site of the ancient city. E. Long. 2 c. 30. II
N. Lat. 37. 50. _ _ Anee.
Andros, in Ancient Geography, an island in the v
Irish sea (Pliny), called Hedros by Ptolemy. Now
Bardscy, distant about a mile from the coast of North
Wales.
ANDROSACE. See Botany Index.
ANDRUM, a kind of hydrocele, to which the
people of Malabar are very subject.—Its origin is de¬
rived from the bad quality of the country waters, im¬
pregnated with certain salts, the source of most other
diseases that affect the Malabrians. Its signs, or symp¬
toms, are an erysipelas of the scrotum, returning every
new moon, by which the lymphatics, being eroded,
pour a serous saline humour into its cavity. The an-
drum is incurable j those once seized with it have it
for life j but it is not dangerous nor very trouble¬
some to those used to it; though sometimes it dege¬
nerates into an hydrosarcocele. The method of pre¬
vention is by a heap of sand fetched from a river of
the province Mangatti, and strewed in the wells. This
is practised by the rich. As to the cure, they have
only a palliative one; which is by incision, or tapping,
and drawing off the water from the scrotum, once in a
month or two.
ANDRYALA, Downy Sow-thistle. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ANDUXAR, a city in the province of Andalusia,
in Spain, situated on the Guadalquiver. It is defend¬
ed by a good castle, and contains about 14,000 inhabi¬
tants. It is adorned with handsome churches and se¬
veral religious houses, and inhabited by many families
of high rank. The land about it abounds in corn, wine,
oil, honey, and fruit of all sorts j and the inhabitants
carry on a considerable trade in silk, W. Long. 4. 2.
N. Lat. 37. 45.
ANDUZE, a town of France, in the department of
the Card, seated on the river Garden. It carries on a
considerable trade in serges and woollen cloth. E.
Long. 3. 42. N. Lat. 43. 39.
ANECDOTE, (Anecdota), a term used by some
authors for the titles of Secret Histories : hut it more
properly denotes a relation of detached and interesting
particulars. The word is Greek, censor*, q. d. things
not yet known or hitherto kept secret. Procopius gives
this title to a book which he published against Justini¬
an and his wife Theodora j and he seems to be the
only person among the ancients who has represented
princes such as they are in their domestic relation.—
Varillas has published Anecdotes of the House of Me-
dicis.
Anecdotes is also an appellation given to such
works of the ancients as have not yet been published.
In which sense, M. Muratori gives the name Anecdota
Grceca to several writings of the Creek fathers, found
in the libraries, and first published by him.— I. Mar-
tene has given a Thesaurus Anecdotarum Novus, in lo-
lio, 5 vols.
ANEE, in commerce, a measure for grain, used in
some pi’ovinces of France. At Lyons it signifies also
a certain quantity of wine, which is the load an ass can
carry at once : which is'fixed at 80 English quarts, wine
measure.
U U ANEMOMETER,
A N E [ 338 ] A N E
Anemome- ANEMOMETER, in Mechanics^ implies a ma-
tti- chine for measuring the force and velocity of the
An *119 w^n^*
*' oj>t Various machines of this kind have been invented at
» 1. different times, and by different persons. The follow¬
ing has been often experienced, and found to answer
the intention.
* Plate An open frame of wood, ABCDEFGHI *, is sup-
XXXIII. ported by the shaft or arbor I. In the two cross-pieces
2* HK, LM, is moved a horizontal axis QM, by means
of the four sails ah, cm, Of, gh, exposed to the wind
in a proper manner. Upon this axis is fixed a cone of
wood, MNO5 upon which, as the sails move round, a
weight R, or S, is raised by a string round its super¬
ficies, proceeding from the smaller to the larger end
NO. Upon this larger end or base of the cone, is
fixed a rocket-wheel k, in whose teeth the click X
falls, to prevent any retrograde motion from the de¬
pending weight.
The structure of this machine sufficiently shows that
it may be accommodated to estimate the variable force
of the wind j because the force of the weight will con¬
tinually increase as the string advances on the conical
surface, by acting at a greater distance fx-om the axis
of motion j consequently, if such a weight be added
on the smaller part M, as will just keep the machine
in equilibrio in the weakest wind, the weight to be
raised, as the wind becomes sti*onger, will be increased
in px-oportion, and the diameter of the cone NO may
be so large in comparison to that of the smaller end at
M, that the sti-ongest wind shall but just raise the
weight at the greater end.
If, for example, the diameter of the axis he to that
of the base of the cone NO as 1 to 28 j then, if S be a
weight of one pound at M on the axis, it will be equi¬
valent to 28 pounds when raised to the greater end :
if therefore, when the wind is weakest, it supports one
pound on the axis, it must be 28 times as strong as to
raise the weight to the base of the cone. If therefore a
line or scale of 28 equal parts be drawn on the side of
the cone, the strength of the wind will be indicated
by that number on which the string rests.
ANEMONE, Wind-flower. See Botany In¬
dex.
Sea-AxEMONE. See AxiMAL-Flower.
ANEMOSCOPE, a machine that shows either the
course or velocity of the wind. (See also the article
Wind- Gauge).
The machine which shows the course of the wind,
or from what point of the compass it blows, consists
of an index moving upon an upright cii’cular plate,
like the dial of a clock, on which the 32 points of
the compass are drawn instead of the hours. The in¬
dex, which points to the divisions on the dial, is turn¬
ed by a horizontal axis, having a trundle-head at its
external extremity. This trundle-head is moved by a
cog-wheel on a perpendicular axis j on the top of which
a vane is fixed, that moves with the course of the wind,
and puts the whole machine in motion. The whole
contrivance is extremely simple j and nothing required
in the construction, but that the number of cogs in the
wheel, and rounds in the trundle-head, be equal •, be¬
cause it is necessary, that, when the vane moves en¬
tirely round, the index of the dial also make a com¬
plete revolution.—An anemoscope of this kind is placed
a
in one of the turrets of the queen’s palace. The ane¬
moscope, calculated for indicating the force or velocity
of the wind is the same with what most writers call an
anemometer; and we have accordingly described one of
those machines under that article. We shall here add
another, contrived by the late Mr Pickering, and
published in the Philosophical Transactions, N° 473.
This anemoscope is a machine four feet and a quarter
high, consisting of a broad and weighty pedestal, a
pillar fastened into it, and an iron axis of about half an
inch diameter fastened into the pillar. Upon this axis
turns a wooden tube } at the top of which is placed a
vane, of the same materials, 21 inches long, consisting
of a quadrant, graduated, and shod with an iron rim,
notched to each degree ; and a counterpoise of wood,
as in the figure, on the other. Through the centre of
the quadrant runs an iron pin, upon which ax-e fastened
two small round pieces of wood, which serve as move-
able radii to desex-ibe the degrees upon the quadi'ant,
and as handles to a velum or sail, whose pane is one
foot square, made of canvas, stretched upon four bat¬
tens, and painted. On the upper batten, next to the
shod rim of the quadrant, is a small spring which catch¬
es at every notch corresponding to each degree, as the
wind shall, by pressing against the sail, raise it up 5 and
prevents the falling back of the sail, upon lessening of
the force of the wind. At the bottom of the wooden
tube, is an iron index, which moves round a circular
piece of wood fastened to the top of the pillar on the
pedestal, on which are described the 32 points of
the compass. The figui’e of this machine is given on
Plate XXXIII. fig. 3. where a is the pedestal; b, the
pillar on which the iron axis is fitted ; c, the circle or
wood, on which are desci-ibed the 32 points of the com¬
pass j e, the wooden tube upon its axis $ f the velum ;
g, the graduated quadrant j h, the counterpoise of the
vane. The adjoining figure represents the velum,
which takes off: a is the plane of the velum ; b, the
spring j cc, the wooden radii j dd, the holes through
which the pin in the centre of the quadrant goes. Its
uses are the following.
1. Having a circular motion round the iron axis,
and being furnished with a vane at top, and index at
the bottom, when once you have fixed the artificial car¬
dinal points, described on the round piece of wood on
the pillar, to the same quarters of the heavens, it gives
a faithful account of that quarter from which the wind
blows. 2. By having a velum or sail elevated by the
wind along the arch of the quadrant to a height pro¬
portionable to the power of the column of wind pressing
against it, the relative force of the wind, and its com¬
parative power, at any two times of examination, may
be accurately taken. 3. By having a spring fitted to
the notches of the iron with which the quadrant is shod,
the velum is prevented from returning back upon the
fall of the wind j and the machine gives the force to
the highest blast, since the last time of examination,
without the trouble of watching it.
The ingenious contriver of this machine tells us,
that he carefully examined what dependence may be
had upon it, during the storms of February 1743-4,
and found that it answered exceedingly well j for that,
in such winds as the sailors call violent storms, the ma¬
chine had six degrees to spare for a more violent gust,
before it conies to a horizontal position. It is cer¬
tainly
Anemo¬
scope.
A N G [ 339 ] A N G
Aiieuio- tainly to be depended upon in ordinary weather, the
ncope velum being hung so tenderly as to feel the most gen¬
ii tie breeze. There is however reason to fear, that the
An£e*‘ . exposing the anemoscope to all winds for a continuance,
must disorder it, especially irregular blasts and squalls.
It may not therefore be amiss, in violent weather, for
the observer to take the tube with its vane and velum
in his hand, in order to know the force of the wind j
and when he has finished his observations, to carry the
machine into the house, till the violence of the storm
is abated, when it may be placed in its former situa¬
tion.
ANETHUM, Dill and Fennel. See Botany
Index.
ANEURISM, in Surgery, a throbbing tumor, di¬
stended with blood, and formed by a dilatation or rup¬
ture of an artery. See Surgery Index.
ANGARI, or Angarii, in antiquity, denote pu¬
blic couriers, appointed for the carrying of messages.
The ancient Persians, Budaeus observes, had their
«yy«£5iov igofinf** > which was a set of couriers on horse¬
back, posted at certain stages or distances, always in
readiness to receive the dispatches from one, and for¬
ward them to another, with wonderful celerity, answer¬
ing to what the moderns call posts, q. d. positi, as being
posted at certain places or stages. The angari were
also called by the Persians astandce; by the Greeks
>if*f£odgofcai, on account of the long journeys they made
in one day, which, according to Suidas, amounted not
to less than 1500 stadia.
ANGARIA, in Roman antiquity, a kind of public
service imposed on the provincials, which consisted in
providing horses and carriages for the conveyance of
military stores and other public burdens. It is some¬
times also used for a guard of soldiers, posted for the de¬
fence of a place. In a more general sense it is used for
any kind of oppression, or services performed through
compulsion.
ANGAZYA, one of the Comora islands, lying
between the north end of Madagascar and the coast
of Zanguebar in Africa, from Lat. 10° to 15° S. It
is inhabited by Moors, who trade with divers parts of
the continent, in cattle, fruits, and other commodities
of the island *, which they exchange for callicoes and
other cotton cloths. The houses here are built of stone,
and lime made of calcined oyster shells $ with which
the walls and roof are plastered in a very elegant man¬
ner. The government of Angazya is a pure aristocra¬
cy ; the island being subject to ten lords, who have all
the title of Sultan. The people are very careful of
their women j never permitting strangers to see them,
without permission from a sultan, or an order which
the stranger brings with him. Many of them read and
write Arabic with great facility: and some even under¬
stand Portuguese, which they learn from their inter¬
course with Mosambique, whither they trade in vessels
of 40 tons burden.
ANGEIOTOMY, in Surgery, implies the opening
a vein or artery, as in bleeding; and consequently in¬
cludes both arteriotomy and phlebotomy.
ANGEL, a spiritual intelligent substance, the first
in rank and dignity among created beings. The word
ajigel is Greek, and signifies a messenger: the Hebrew
*TNbn signifies the same thing. The angels are in Da¬
niel (chap. iv. ver. 13, &c.) called O'*', ot watchers.
from their vigilance ; for the same reason they are, in Angel,
the remains we have of the prophecy attributed toy-*-—»
Enoch, named Egregori; which word imports the same
in Greek.
Angels, therefore, in the proper signification of the
word, do not import the nature of any being, but only
the office to which they are appointed, especially by¬
way of message or intercourse between God and his
creatures ; in which sense they are called the ministers
of God, who do his pleasure, and ministering spirits sent
forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salva¬
tion. That there are such beings as we call angels.
that is, certain permanent substances, invisible and
imperceptible to our senses, endued with understanding
and power superior to that of human nature, created by
God, and subject to him as the Supreme Being; mi-
nistring to his divine providence in the government of
the world by his appointment, and more especially at¬
tending the affairs of mankind; is a truth so fully at¬
tested by Scripture, that it cannot be doubted. Nay,
the existence of such invisible beings was generally
acknowledged by the ancient heathens, though under
different appellations: the Greeks called them demons ;
and the Romans genii, or lares. Epicurus seems to
have been the only one among the old philosophers who
absolutely rejected them. Indeed, the belief of middle
intelligences influencing the affairs of the world, and
serving as ministers or interpreters between God and
man, is as extensive as the belief of a God ; having
never, so far as we know, been called in question by
those who had any religion at all.
The creation of angels is not indeed expressly men-Whencrea.
tioned by Moses in the first of Genesis, yet it is gene-tct*-
rally considered by judicious expositors as implied. The
reason why the sacred historian is silent on this subject,
is supposed by Berrington to be the natural proneness of
the Gentile world, and even of the Jews, to idolatry*. * On the
And it is thought, if they worshipped mere material Creation,
elements, which was the case, much more might they
be inclined to worship such superior and sublime beings Severiama
as angels. But a better reason is perhaps given by on the
other writers, viz. that this first history was purposely Creation.
and principally for information concerning the visible
world ; the invisible, of which we know but in part,
being reserved for a better life +. f A»tem-
On what day they were created has been matter s Annot.
conjecture. It is a point on which learned men have(>n Gt”’ *•
differed. The Socinians, indeed, hold, says Bishop^0'
Hopkins I, that it was long before the account given by f Works,
Moses : but it must have been within the six days crea- P* 50a*
tion ; because, as we are informed, that within this space
God made heaven and earth, and all things that are
therein. All the writers that we have seen on this sub¬
ject, think they were included in the first day’s work,
when the heavens were fx-amed.
It has been thought by some persons, that the words
of Job, “ When the morning stars sang together, and
all the sons of God shouted for joy,” militate against
the creation of angels within the six days. About the
meaning of these words, however, expositors are not
agreed ; but admitting that they refer literally to an¬
gels, Dr Lightfoot, Caryl, and others, see no difficulty in
the passage. The Doctor thinks they were created on
the fii-st day with the heavens ; and that they were spec¬
tators of God’s works in the other parts of the creation,
U u 2 and
A N G [ 34° ] A N G
Angel, and praised and magnified the Lord for his works all
'■■■ v'——along *, singing and shouting when God laid the founda¬
tion of the temple, Ezra iii.
On a subject of this nature it would be imprudent
to indulge a spirit of conjecture ; Scripture is the only
standard by which truth and error can be tried, and to
this we must ultimately appeal. It is acknowledged
that Moses has not expressly mentioned angels by name j
vet, as we have remarked, their creation is undoubted¬
ly implied ; for the heavens must include all that are in
them ; and therefore it is that the divine penman says,
in the conclusion of his narrative, “ Thus the heavens
and the earth were finished, and all the host of them.”
Of the host of heaven, the angels must form a consider¬
able part ; they are expressly called the heavenly host,
and the armies of heaven, Dan. iv. 35. Luke ii. 13.
And if divine authority be admitted as decisive, the
reasons adduced by Jehovah for the sanctification of a
sabbath, demonstrate that they did not exist previous
to the creation of the heavens. It is, surely, asserted
with propriety, that in six days the Lord made heaven
and earth, the sea, and all that in them is. Similar
to which is a declaration of the divine historian relating
to the same fact.—“ And God blessed the seventh day,
and sanctified it j because that in it he had rested from
all his work which God created and made,” Gen.
ii. 3. Now if angels existed prior to the six days of
creation, the language of Moses is far from being ac¬
curate and intelligible; and especially when it is con¬
sidered that the obscurity might have been removed by
adding, “ from all the work which God had then crea¬
ted and made.”
But if angels were created before the heavens, where
| jBodt. Di- could they exist ? For, as the learned Gill f has remark-
vin. vol. i. ed, “ though angels have no bodies, and so are not in
p. 422. place circumscriptively ; yet as they are creatures, they
must have an ubi, a somewhere in which they are de¬
finitely ; so that they are here, and not there, and much
le*s everywhere : Now where was there an ubi, a some¬
where lor them to exist in, before the heavens and the
earth were made ? It is most reasonable, therefore, to
conclude, that as God prepared an habitation for all the
living creatures before he made them ; as the sea for the
fishes, the expanse, or air, for the fowls, and the earth
for men and beasts ; so he made the heavens first, and
then the angels to dwell in them.”
That this was the fact, will appear very evident, if
the words of Moses be impartially considered. “ In
the beginning (says he) God created the heavens and
the earth which words must refer either to the be¬
ginning of creation or of time : if to the former, and
angels previously existed, the language is neither intel¬
ligible nor conformable to truth; if to the latter, the
difficulty remains; for what is time but the measure of
created existence. “ Time (says the judicious Char-
* Works, nock *) began with the foundation of the world : be-
vol. i. in. fore the beginning of the creation and the beginning of
time, there could be nothing but eternity : nothing but
what was uncreated, that is, nothing but what was
without beginning.” But if angels were in a pre-ex¬
istent state, the historian’s language is unaccountably
strange and inaccurate : for if the phrase in the begin- Angel.
ning, which is remarkably emphatical, refer to the1  "J
creation of the heavens and the earth only, they are
unhappily expressed ; so expressed, indeed, as to con¬
vey no meaning to those who consider words as the
vehicle of thought, and as intended to express clearly
to others the meaning of the writer. For the natural
obvious sense is as follows—“ In the beginning of the
creation of the heavens and the earth, God created
the heavens and the earth ;” which language is not
only a departure from that perspicuity and precision
which distinguish all his narrations, but entirely irra¬
tional and absurd.
That the words in the beginning refer to the first
creation, cannot be doubted, if it be remembered, that
Jehovah himself founds a claim to eternity on this
very ground : “ Before the day was, I am he.”—-
“ Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever
thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from
everlasting to everlasting thou art God,” Isa. xliii. 13.
Psal. ix. 2. See also Prov. viii. 22, 23, &c. Now
there could be no propriety in this kind of reasoning,
if angels or any other creature existed before the crea¬
tion of the world, because all claims to eternity from
such premises would apply even to Gabriel as well as
to Jehovah. “ Before the world was,” is, in Scrip¬
ture language, a phrase always expressive of eternity ;
and on this principle the evangelist John asserts the di¬
vinity of Jesus Christ in the first chapter of his history.
For this purpose he alludes to the words of Moses, and
introduces his divine master to notice by celebrating
the first act of his creative power. “ In the beginning
(says he) was the Word,” that is, Dr Doddridge re¬
marks §, before the foundation of the world, or the § Family
first production of any creature : and Dr Sherlock J is Expositor.
clearly of opinion, that the words, in their most com-
mon and usual acceptation, signify the first creation of Christ’s
all things, and are a demonstration of the divinity oiDivinity,
Christ. Of the same mind was Dr Owen. He says, P I29- See
that if the phrase beginning does not absolusely and for-^s°^^^
mally express eternity, yet it doth a pre existence to thejt js
whole creation, which amounts to the same thing ; for
nothing can pre-exist before all creatures but the nature
of God, which is eternal, unless we suppose a creature
before the creation of any. But what is meant by this-
expression is fully declared by other passages of Scrip¬
ture : “ I was set up from everlasting, before the be¬
ginning, or ever the earth was ;” “ Glorify thou me.
with thine own self, with the glory which I had with,
thee before the world was ;” both which passages not
only explain the text, but undeniably prove the pre¬
existence of Christ the Son of God *. It should be re-* ^ ^
membered, that, in the passage under consideration, the Trinity,
evangelist’s argument for the divinity of Jesus Christ isp 43.
grounded on his pre-existing the creation of the world ;
and it is consequently asserted, that he is the creator,
of all things : but if angels had a being before the pe¬
riod to which he alludes, the argument loses all its force,
and no more proves the divinity of Christ than the di¬
vinity of an angel (a).
If, therefore, the words of Moses be impartially
viewed
(a) Of this Socinus and his followers were aware ; and therefore they endeavoured to evade the force of
2 the
Angel.
1heir na-
A N G [ 34i ]
viewed in tlieir natural obvious meaning, and compared shown them,
with other passages ot Scripture that relate to the same
subject, we have no doubt but every unprejudiced mind
will perceive, that as he intended to give a summary
history of the creation of all things both in heaven and
in earth, he has done it in language intelligible and ac¬
curate, and in terms sufficiently explicit.
  As to the nature of these beings, we are told, that
ure, power, t|iey are spirits: but whether pure spirits divested of all
mPloy* matter, or united to some thin bodies or corporeal ve-
len , c. |ias jjggjj a controversy of long standing. Not
only the ancient philosophers, but some of the Christian
fathers, were of opinion that angels were clothed with
ethereal or fiery bodies, of the same nature with those
which we shall one day have when we come to be equal
to them. But the more general opinion, especially of
later times, has been, that they are substances entirely
spiritual, though they can at any time assume bodies,
and appear in human or other shapes.
That the angelical powers and abilities vastly excel
those of man, cannot be denied, if we consider, that
their faculties are not clogged or impeded, as ours
are, by any of those imperfections which are inseparable
from corporeal being : so that their understandings are
always in perfect vigour $ their inclinations regular j
their motions strong and quick 5 their actions irx-esist-
ible by material bodies, whose natural qualities they
can controul, or manage to their purposes, and occa¬
sion either blessings or calamities, public or private,
her-e below; instances of which are too numerous to
mention.
Besides their attendance on God, and their waiting
and executing of his commands, they are also presumed
to be employed in taking care of mankind and their
concerns: and that every man had such a tutelar or
guardian angel, even from his birth, was a firm belief
and tradition among the Jews 5 and oup Saviour him¬
self seems to have been of the same sentiment. I he
heathens were also of the same persuasion, and thought
it a crime to neglect the admonitions of so divine a
guide. Socrates publicly confessed himself to be un¬
der the direction of such an angel, or demon, as seve¬
ral others have since done. And on this tutelax- genius
of each person they believed his happiness and foi’-
tune depended. Evei'V genius did his best for the in¬
terest of his client; and if a man came by the worst,
it was a sign the strength of his genius was xnlerior to
that of his opponent, that is, ot an interior order j
and this was governed by chance. There were some
genii, whose ascendant was so great over others, that
their very presence entixely disconcerted them j which
was-the case of that of Augustus in respect of that
of Mark Antony j and for the same reason, perhaps
some persons have wit, and speak well, when others are
absent, in whose presence they ax-e confounded, and out
of countenance. Jhe Ttomans thought the tutelax* ge¬
nii of those who attained the empire to be of an emi¬
nent order j on which account they had great honours
A N G
  Nations and cities also had their several Angel.
genii. The ancient Persians so firmly believed the mi- 1 \r '
nistry of angels, and their superintendance over human
affairs, that they gave their names to their months, and
the days of their months j and assigned them distinct of¬
fices and provinces : and it is from them the Jews con¬
fess to have received the names of the months and an¬
gels, which they brought with them when they return¬
ed from the Babylonish captivity. After which, we
find they also assigned charges to the angels, and in
particular the patronage of empires and nations j Mi¬
chael being the prince of the Jews, as Raphael is sup¬
posed to have been of the Persians.
The Mahometans have so great a respect for the
angels, that they account a man an infidel who either
denies their existence, or loves them not. They believe
them to be free from sin, enjoying the presence of God,
to whom they are never disobedient: that they have
subtle pure bodies, being created of light j and have
no distinction of sexes, nor do they need the refresh¬
ment of food or sleep. Tlhey suppose them to have dif¬
ferent forms and offices : 1 hat some adore God in se¬
veral postures j others sing his praises, and intercede
for men } some carry and encompass his throne j others
write the actions of men, and are assigned guardians to
them.
As the number of these celestial spirits is very
great, it is likewise reasonable to believe that there
are several orders and degrees among them, which^ is
also confirmed by Scripture j whence some speculative
men have distributed them into nine orders, according
to the different names by which they are there called $
and reduced these orders into three hierarchies, as they
call them ; to the first of which belong seraphim, che¬
rubim, and thrones ; to the second, dominions, virtues,
and powers 5 and to the third, principalities, archan¬
gels, and angels. They imagine, farther, that there
are some who constantly reside in heaven 5 others who
are ministers, and sent forth, as there is occasion, to
execute the orders they receive from God by the foim-
er. The Jews reckon but four orders or companies of
angels, each headed by an archangel’, the first order
being that of Michael, the second of Gabriel, the third
of Uriel, and the fourth of Raphael but though the
Jews believe them to be four, yet it seems there were
rather seven. The Persians also held, there were sub¬
ordinate degrees among the angels.
Although the angels were originally created perfect, Of the fas-
good, and obedient to their Master’s will, yet some oflen angeijk
them sinned, and kept not their first estate, but left
their habitation } and so, of the most blessed and glo¬
rious, became the most vile and miserable of all God s
creatures. They were expelled the regions of light,
and cast down to hell, to be reserved in everlasting
chains under darkness, until the day of judgment.
With heaven they lost their heavenly disposition, which
delighted once in doing good and praising God $ and
fell into a settled rancour against him, and malice
against
the apostle’s reasoning, by interpreting the phrase in the beginning either in a figurative se"s®» any
the beginning of JohnV Baptist’s ministry. We will only subjom, that we do not r7he™, 'r(its°u^'rCt
•writer deviate from the primary obvious meaning of the passage, who had not some hypothesis to support mnni-a.
to truth.
A N G [ 342 ] A N G
Ant'd, against men ; their inward peace was gone $ all desire
——y*"—' of doing good departed from them j and, instead there¬
of, revengeful thoughts and despair took possession of
them, and created an eternal hell within them.
When, and for what offence, these apostate spirits
fell from heaven, and plunged themselves into such an
abyss of wickedness and woe, are questions very hard,
if not impossible to be determined by any clear evi¬
dence of Scripture. As to the time, we are certain
that it could not be before the sixth day of creation j
because on that day it is said, “ God saw every thing
that he had made, and behold it was very good but
that it was not long after it is very probable, as it must
have preceded the fall of our first parents. Some have
imagined it to have been after *, and that carnality, or
lusting to converse with women upon earth, was the
sin which ruined them : an opinion (b) built upon a
mistaken interpretation of Scripture, as if angels were
meant by the sons of God who are said to have begotten
the mighty men of old on the daughters of men. O-
thers have supposed, that the angels, being informed of
God’s intention to create man after his own image,
and to dignify his nature by Christ’s assuming of it,
and thinking their glory to be eclipsed thereby, en-
. vied man’s happiness, and so revolted ; and with this
opinion that of the Mahometans has some affinity ;
who are taught, that the devil, who was once one of
those angels who are nearest to God’s presence, and
named Aku’ZiI, forfeited paradise for refusing to pay
homage to Adam at the command of God. But on
what occasion soever it first showed itself, pride seems
to have been the leading sin of the angels j who, ad¬
miring and valuing themselves too much on the ex¬
cellence of their nature and the height of their station,
came at length to entertain so little respect for their
Creator, as to be guilty of downright rebellion and
apostasy.
It is certain from Scripture, that these fallen angels
were in great numbers, and that there were also some
order and subordination preserved among them ; one
especially being considered as their prince, and called
by several names, Seelzebvb^ Satan, or Sammael by the
Jews; Ahdrhnam by the Persians ; and Eblis by the
Mahometans. Their constant employment is not only
doing evil themselves, but endeavouring by all arts and
means to seduce and pervert mankind, by tempting
them to all kind of sin, and thereby bringing them in¬
to the same desperate state with themselves.
Angel is likewise a title given to bishops of several
churches. In this sense St Paul is understood by some
authors, where he says, TEomen ought to be covered in
the church, because of the angels. The learned Dr Angel
Prideaux observes, that the minister of the synagogue, 11
who officiated in offering up the public prayers, being Angelitej.
the mouth of the congregation, delegated by them as
their representative, messenger, or angel, to speak to
God in prayer for them, was therefore, in the Hebrew
language, called the angel of the church ; and from
thence the bishops of the seven churches of Asia are,
by a name borrowed from the synagogue, called the
angels of those churches.
ANGEL, in commerce, the name of a gold coin for¬
merly current in England. It had its name from the
figure of an angel represented upon it, weighed four
pennyweights, and was twenty-three and a half carats
fine. It had different values in different reigns ; but
is at present only an imaginary sum, or money of ac¬
count, implying ten shillings.
ANGEL-f sh. See Sciualus, Ichthyology Index.
ANGELIC, or Angelical, something belonging
to, or that partakes of, the nature of angels. We say
an angelical life, &c. St Thomas is styled the angeli¬
cal doctor. The angelical salutation is called by the
Romanists Ave Maria; sometimes simply angelus.
Angelic Garment (Angelica vestis), among our an¬
cestors, was a monkish garment, which laymen put on
a little before their death, that they might have the
benefit of the prayers of the monks. It was from them
called angelical, because they Were called angeli, who bv
these prayers animce salutisuccurrchant. Hence, where
ive read the phrase monachus ad succurrendum in our
old books, it must be understood of one who had put
on the habit when he was at the point of death.
ANGELICA. See Botany Index.
ANGELICS, Angelici, in church history, an an¬
cient sect of heretics, supposed by some to have got this
appellation from their excessive veneration of angels ;
and by others, from their maintaining that the world
Was created by angels.
Angelics is also the name of an order of knights,
instituted in 1191, by Angelus Flavius Comnenus, em¬
peror of Constantinople.
Angelics is also a congregation of nuns, founded
at Milan in 1534, by Louisa Torelli, countess of Gua-
stalla. They observe the rule of St Augustine.
ANGELITES, in ecclesiastical history, a sect of
Christian heretics, in the reign of the emperor Anasta-
sius, and the pontificate of Symmachus, about the year
494, so called from Angelium, a place in the city of
Alexandria, where they held their first meetings. They
were called likewise Seventes, from one Severus, who
was the head of their sect ; as also Theodosians, from
one
jlis 0P‘l)'0n seems to have been originally occasioned by some copies of the Septuagint, which, in the
days of St Austin, had in this place the angels of God. Lactantius supposes the angels, who were guilty of this
enormity, had been sent down by God to guard and take care of mankind; and being endued with free-will,
'vere c 1A1gpd by him not to forfeit the dignity of their celestial nature, by defiling themselves with the corrup¬
tion.-. of the earth ; but that the devil at length enticed them to debauch themselves with women. He adds, that
not Ireing admitted into heaven by reason of the wickedness into which they had plunged themselves, they fell
(own to the earth, and became the devil’s ministers; but that those who were begotten by them, being neither
angels nor men, but of a middle nature, were not received into hell, no more than their parents were into hea¬
ven. Hence arose tvyo kinds of demons, celestial and terrestrial. These are unclean spirits, the authors of what¬
ever evils are committed, and whose prince is the devil. From hence very probably proceeded the notions of
Incubt, or demons who are supposed to have carnal knowledge of women.
A N G [ 343 3 A N G
foigelites one among them named Theodosius, whom they made
1J pope at Alexandria. They held, that the persons of
Angelos. j|ie Trinity are not the same ; that none of them exists
of himself, and of his own nature j but that there is a
common god or deity existing in them all, and that
each is God, by a participation of this deity.
ANGELO, Michael. There were five celebrated
Italian painters of this name, who flourished in the 16th
and 17th centuries j but the two most distinguished of
them are these.—First, Michael Angelo Buonarotti,
who was a most incomparable painter, sculptor, and
architect, born in 1474, in the territory of Arezzi in
Tuscany. He was the disciple of Hominico Ghirlan¬
daio j and erected an academy of painting and sculpture
in Florence, under the protection of Lorenzo di Me-
dicis} which, upon the troubles of that house, was obli¬
ged to remove to Bologna. About this time he made
an image of Cupid, which he carried to Rome, broke
off one of its arms, and buried the image in a place he
knew would soon be dug up, keeping the arm by him.
It was accordingly found, and sold to Cardinal St Gre¬
gory for an antique 5 until Michael, to their confusion
and his own credit, discovered his artifice, and con¬
firmed it by the deficient arm which he produced : it
is rather unusual for the manufacturers of antiques to
be so ingenuous. His reputation was so great at Rome,
that he was employed by Pope Sixtus to paint his cha¬
pel } and by the command of Pope Paul III. executed
his most celebrated piece, The Last Judgment. He has
the character of being the greatest designer that ever
lived ; and it is universally allowed that no painter ever
understood anatomy so well. He died immensely rich
at Rome, in 1564.—Secondly, Michael Angelo de
Caravaggio, born at that village in Milan, in 1569.
He was at first no more than a bricklayer’s labourer 5
but he was so charmed with seeing some painters at
work, that he immediately applied himself to the art j
and made such progress in a few years, that he wras
admired as the author of a new style of painting. It
was observed of Michael Angelo Buonarotti, that he
was incomparable in designing, but knew little of co¬
louring ; and of Caravaggio, that he had as good a gout
in colouring as he had a bad one in designing. There
is one picture of his in the Dominican church at Ant¬
werp, which Rubens used to cal! his master. It is said
of this painter, that he was so strangely contentious,
that the pencil was no sooner out of his hand but his
sword was in it. He died in 1609.
Angelo, St, a small but strong town of Italy, in
the Capitanata. There are several other towns and
castles of the same name in Italy, and particularly the
castle of St Angelo at Rome. E. Long. 15. 56. N.
Lat. 41.43.
ANGELOS, Los, a province of Mexico, the an¬
cient republic of Tlascala, of which a city called T/as-
cala was once the capital. That city is now reduced
to an inconsiderable village, and has given place to
another called Puebla des los Angelos, or the city of
Angels. It is situated in W. Long. 103. 12. and
N. Lat. 19. 13. It was formerly an Indian town j
but in 1530 was entirely abandoned by the natives, on
account of the cruelties of the Spaniards. A suc¬
ceeding viceroy of Mexico, by a milder treatment,
recalled them ; and the town is now exceedingly rich
and populous, so. as even to vie with Mexico itself in
magnificence. It is situated on the river Zacatula, in a rectos
a fine valley, about 25 leagues to the eastward ofMex- ||
ico. In the middle is a beautiful and spacious square, Anger,
from whence run the principal streets in direct lines, v
which are crossed by others at right angles. One side
is almost entirely occupied by the magnificent front of
the cathedral j while the other three consist of piazzas,
under which are the shops of tradesmen. The city is
the see of a bishop, suffragan to the archbishop of Mexi¬
co, and we may form a judgment of the wealth of the
place by the revenue of the cathedral and chapter,
which amounts to 300,000 pieces of eight annually.
It must be remembered, however, that in all popish
countries the wealth of the laity by no means bears the
same proportion to that of the clergy as in Britain.
What contributes greatly to increase the riches of this
province is, that here is situated the city of Vera Cruz,
the natural centre of all the American treasures belong¬
ing to Spain. See Vera Cruz.
ANGELOT, an ancient English gold coin, struck
at Paris, while under subjection to the English. It wras
thus called from the figure of an angel supporting the
scutcheon of the arms of England and France. There
was another coin of the same denomination struck un¬
der Philip de Valois.
Angelot is also used in Commerce to denote a
small, fat, rich sort of cheese, brought from Normandy.
Skinner supposes it to have been thus called from the
name of the person who first made it up in that form,
and perhaps stamped it with his own name. Menage
takes it to have been denominated from the resemblance
it bears to the English coin called angelot. It is made
chiefly in the Pays de Bray, whence it is also denomi¬
nated angelot de Pray. It is commonly made in vats,
either square or shaped like a heart.
ANGER, a violent passion of the mind, consisting
in a propensity to take vengeance on the author of some
real or supposed injury done the offended party.
Anger is either deliberative or instinctive ; and the
latter kind is rash and ungovernable, because it operates
blindly, without affording time for deliberation or fore¬
sight. Bishop Butler very justly observes, that anger
is far from being aselfisb passion, since it is naturally ex¬
cited by injuries offered to others as well as to ourselves $
and was designed by the Author of nature not only to
excite us to act vigorously in defending ourselves from
evil, but to interest us in the defence or rescue of the
injured and helpless, and to raise us above the fear of
the proud and mighty oppressor.
Neither, therefore, is all anger sinful: hence the pre¬
cept, “ Be ye angry and sin not.”—It becomes sinful, ,
however, and contradicts the rule of Scripture, when it
is conceived upon slight and inadequate provocations,
and when it continues long. It is then contrary to the
amiable spirit of charity, which “ suffereth long, and is
not easily provoked.” Hence these other precepts,
“ Let every man be slow to angerand, “ Let not
the sun go down upon your wrath.”
These precepts, and all reasoning indeed upon the
subject, suppose the passion of anger to be within our
power $ and this power consists not so much in any fa¬
culty we have of appeasing our wrath at the time (tor
we are passive under the smart which an injury or af¬
front occasions, and all we can then do is to prevent
its breaking out into action), as in so mollifying our
minds -
A N G
[ 344 ]
A N G
Ati^er.
chap. 7.
minds by habits of just reflection, as to be less irritated
l' v by impressions of injury, and to be sooner pacine .
As reflections proper for this purpose, and. winch
may be called the sedatives of anger, the following are
suggested by Archdeacon Paley, in his excellent trea-
* Book III. tise of Moral and Political Philosophy “ rlhe pos-
Part ii. sibility of mistaking the motives from which the con¬
duct that offends us proceeded j how often our offences
have been the effect of inadvertency, when they were
mistaken for malice ; the inducement which prompted
our adversary to act as he did, and how powerfully the
same inducement has, at one time or other, operated
upon ourselves $ that he is suffering perhaps under a
contrition, which he is ashamed, or wants opportunity,
to confess j and how ungenerous it is to triumph by
coldness or insult over a spirit already humbled in se¬
cret ; that the returns of kindness are sweet, and that
there is neither honour nor virtue nor use in resisting
them—for some persons think themselves bound to che¬
rish and keep alive their indignation, when they find it
dying away of itself. We may remember that others
have their passions, their prejudices, their favourite
aims, their fears, their cautions, their interests, their
sudden impulses, their varieties of apprehension, as well
as we: we may recollect what hath sometimes passed
in our own minds, when we have got on the wrong side
of a quarrel, and imagine the same to be passing in our
adversary’s mind now j when we became sensible of our
misbehaviour, what palliations we perceived in it, and
expected others to perceive •, how we were affected by
the kindness, and felt the superiority of a generous re¬
ception and ready forgiveness ; how persecution revived
our spirits with our enmity, and seemed to justify the
conduct in ourselves which we before blamed. Add to
this, the indecency of extravagant anger; how it ren¬
ders us, whilst it lasts, the scorn and sport of all about
us, of which it leaves us, when it ceases, sensible and
ashamed ; the inconveniences and irretrievable miscon¬
duct into which our irascibility has sometimes betrayed
us; the friendships it has lost us; the distresses and
embarrassments in which we have been involved by it,
and the sore repentance which on one account or other
it always costs us.
“ But the reflection calculated above all others to
allay that haughtiness of temper which is ever finding
ont provocations, and which renders anger so impetu¬
ous, is that which the gospel proposes ; namely, that
we ourselves are, or shortly shall be, suppliants for mer¬
cy and pardon at the judgment-seat of God. Imagine
our secret sins all disclosed and brought to light; ima¬
gine us thus humbled and exposed ; trembling under
the hand of God ; casting ourselves on his compassion ;
crying out for mercy-—imagine such a creature to talk
of satisfaction and revenge, refusing to be entreated,
disdaining to forgive, extreme to mark and to resent
what is done amiss ; imagine, I say, this ; and you can
hardly feign to yourself an instance of more impious
and unnatural arrogance.”
Physicians and naturalists have recorded instances of
very extraordinary effects tit this passion. Borrichius
cured a woman of an inveterate tertian ague, which had
baffled the art of physic, by putting the patient in a
furious fit of anger. Valeriola made use of the same
means, with the like success, in a quartan ague. The
came passion has been equally salutary to paralytic,
Anger
gouty, and even dumb persons; to which last it has
sometimes given the use of speech. Etmuller gives di- ||
vers instances of very singular cui’es wrought by anger; Angtnm.
among others, he mentions a person laid up in the v J
gout, who being provoked by his physician, flew upon
him, and was cured. It is true, the remedy is some¬
what dangerous in the application, when a patient does
not know how to use it with moderation. We meet
with several instances of princes to whom it has proved
mortal; e. g. Valentinian the first, Wenceslaus, Mat-
thius Corvinus, king of Hungary, and others. There
are also instances wherein it has produced the epilepsy,
jaundice, cholera morbus, diarrhoea, &c. In fact, this
passion is of such a nature, that it quickly throws the
whole nervous system into preternatural commotions,
by a violent stricture of the nervous and muscular parts;
and surprisingly augments not only the systole of the
heart and of its contiguous vessels, but also the tone of the
fibrous parts in the whole body. It is also certain, that
this passion, by the spasmodic stricture it produces in
the parts, exerts its power principally on the stomach
and intestines, which are highly nervous and membra¬
nous parts ; whence the symptoms are more dangerous,
in proportion to the greater consent of the stomach and
intestines, with the other nervous parts, and almost
with the whole body. The unhappy influence of anger
likewise, on the biliary and hepatic ducts, is very sur¬
prising ; since by an intense constriction of these, the
liver is not only rendered scirrhous, but stones also
are often generated in the gall-bladder and biliary
ducts : these accidents have scarcely any other origin
than an obstruction of the free motion and efflux of the
bile, by means of this violent stricture. From such a
stricture of these ducts likewise proceeds the jaundice,
which in process of time lays a foundation for calculous
concretions in the gall-bladder. Lastly, By increasing
the motion of the fluid, or the spasms of the fibrous
parts, by means of anger, a larger quantity of blood
is propelled with an impetus to certain parts ; whence
it happens that they are too much distended, and the
orifices of the veins distributed there opened. It is
evident from experience, that anger has a great ten¬
dency to excite enormous haemorrhages, either from
the nose, the aperture of the pulmonary artery, the
veins of the anus ; or in women, from the uterus, espe¬
cially in those previously accustomed and disposed to
such evacuations.
ANGERMANNIA, or Angermanland, a pro¬
vince of Sweden, bounded on the north by Lapland and
Bothnia, on the east by the gulf of Bothnia, and Me-
delpadia, and on the west by Jempti and Herndel. It
is full of rocks, mountains, and forests ; and there is one
very high mountain called Scull. It has excellent iron
works, and lakes abounding with fish.
ANGERMOND, a town in the duchy of the lower
Rhine, in Germany, subject to the king of Prussia.
E. Long. 6. 20. N. Lat. 51. 10.
ANGERONA, in Mythology, the name of a Pa¬
gan deity whom the Romans prayed to for the cure
of the quinsy, in Latin angina. Pliny calls her the
goddess o f silence and calmness of mind, who banishes
all uneasiness and melancholy. She is represented
with her mouth covered, to denote patience and re¬
fraining from complaints. Her statue was set up, and
sacrificed to, in the temple of the goddess Volupia, to
show
A N G
show that a patient enduring of affliction leads to plea¬
sure.
ANGERONALIA, in antiquity, solemn feasts held
by the Romans on the 2ist of December, in honour of
Angerona, or Angeronia, the goddess of patience and
silence. Festus and Julius Modestus, quoted by Macro-
bius, Saturn, lib. i. cap. 10. derive the name from angi¬
na, “quinsy;” and suppose the goddess to have been
thus denominated, becauseshe presided overthat disease.
—Others suppose it formed from angor, “ grief, pain
to intimate that she gave relief to those afflicted there¬
with.—Others deduce it from angeo, “ I press, [ close,”
as being reputed the goddess of silence, &c.
ANGERS, a city of France, and capital of the
former duchy of Anjou, now the department of the
Maine and Loire. It is seated a little above the place
vvhei'e the Sarte and the Loire lose themselves in the
Maine. This last river divides the city into two equal
parts, called the High and the Low Town. There are
twelve parishes in the city, and four in the suburbs,
which contained 28,927 inhabitants in 1817. Re¬
sides these, there are eight chapters, and a great num¬
ber of convents for both sexes. Its greatest extent is
along the declivity of a hill, which reaches quite
down to the river side. The castle was built by St
Louis, about the middle of the 13th century. The
walls, fosses, and numerous towers which yet subsist,
evince its former magnificence: and its situation in
the centre of the city, on a rock overhanging the river,
conduces to give it an air of grandeur, though at pre¬
sent in decay. It was the principal residence of the
kings of Sicily, as dukes of Anjou, but is now in a
state of total ruin. The cathedral of Angers is a ve¬
nerable structure *, and although it has undergone
many alterations in the course of ages since its con¬
struction, yet the architecture is singular, and deserves
attention. Here lies interred with her ancestors the
renowned Margaret, daughter of Rene king of Sicily,
and queen of Henry VI. of England. She expired,
after her many intrepid but ineffectual efforts to re¬
place her husband on the throne, in the year 1482, at
the castle of Dampierre in Anjou, Near the church
of St Michael is the handsomest square in the city, from
whence runs a street which has the name of the church.
On one side of this street is the town-house ; which has
a fine tower, with a clock, raised upon an arch which
serves for a passage into the great square. There are
twm large bridges, which keep up a communication
between the two parts of the city ; and in the lesser of
these there is another square, which serves for a mar¬
ket. The university of Angers was founded in 1398,
and the academy of belles letters in 1685. This last
consists of thirty academicians. At the end of the
suburb of Bresigny are the quarries of Angers, so
famous for the fine slate which is got from thence.
The pieces are of the thickness of a crown piece, and
a foot square. All the houses in Angers are covered
with this slate, which has gained it the appellation of
the Black City. The walls with which King John of
England surrounded it in 1214 remain nearly entire,
and are of very great circumference. \V. Long. o. 35.
N. Lat. 47. 30.
ANGH1ERA, a town of Italy, in the duchy of
Milan, and capital of a countv of the same name. It
\ OL. II. Part I. ' f
A N G
is seated on the eastern side of the lake Maggiore, in
E. Long. 8. 40. N. Lat. 45. 42.
ANGINA, in Medicine, a violent inflammation of the
throat, otherwise called quinsy. See Medicine/«<:/£■#,
Angina Pectoris. See Medicine Index.
ANGIOSPERMIA, in the Linusean system of bo¬
tany, the second order in the class didynamia. It con¬
sists of those plants of that class, whose seeds are enclo¬
sed in a pericarpium. In this order the stigma is gene¬
rally obtuse. These are the ptrsonati of Tournefort.
ANGITI2E lucus or NEMUS, (Virg.), situated on
the west side of the Lacus Fucinus. The inhabitants
are called Lucenses, by Pliny. Angitia was sister of Me¬
dea, who taught antidotes against poison and serpents,
according to Sil. Italicus. But Servius on Virgil says,
that the inhabitants called Medea by this name for the
same reason. The town is now called Luco.
ANGLE, the inclination of two lines meeting one
another in a point. See Geometry. See also Angle
in the Supplement.
Angle of Incidence, in Optics, the angle which a
ray of light makes with a perpendicular to that point of
the surface of any medium on which it falls ; though it
is sometimes understood of the angle which it makes
with the surface itself.
Angle of Refraction now generally means the angle
which a ray of light, refracted by any medium, makes
with a perpendicular to that point on the surface of
which it was incident; but has sometimes been under¬
stood of the angle which it makes with the surface of
the refracting medium itself.
ANGLER, a person who practises the art of ang¬
ling, whether as a diversion or otherwise. See the ar¬
ticle Angling.
Angler, the English name of a species of lophus.
See Lophus, Ichthyology Index.
ANGLES, an ancient German nation, originally
a branch of the Suevi: who, after various migrations,
settled in that part of Denmark, and duchy of Sleswick,
which to this day is called Angel, and of which the city
of Flensburgh is the capital. Here they were known,
even in the time of Tacitus, by the name of Angli. The
origin of this name is variously accounted for. Accord¬
ing to Saxo-Grammaticus, they were c-a\\e& Angli, from
one Angulus, son to Humblus king of Denmark. Wi-
dischind, a Saxon writer, will have them to be called
Angli, from an island in the corner or angle of the sea,
which they conquered. Goropius derives their name
from the Saxon word Angel or Engel, signifying a fish¬
hook ; the Angles, like the other Saxon nations, being
greatly addicted to piracy, and on that account being
so named by the neighbouring nations ; as if, like hooks,
they caught all that was in the sea. To this nation
the British ambassadors are said to have applied, when
soliciting succours against the Scots and Piets. The
Angles, therefore, came over in greater numbers than
any other Saxon nation ; and accordingly had the ho¬
nour of giving the name of Anglia to England. See
England.
ANGLESEY, Isle of, is the most western county
of North Wales. It is 24 miles in length, 18 in
breadth, and sends one member to parliament. It is
separated from Caernarvonshire by a strait called
Menai, and on every other side is surrounded by the sea.
X x It
[ 345 ]
A N G t 346 ] A N G
Anglesey. It is a fertile spot, and abounds in corn, cattle, flesh,
'—fish, and fowls.
At Port Aethwy, the most general ferry into the
island, there is a great passage of cattle. It is computed
that the island sends forth annually from 12,000 to
15,000 head, and multitudes of sheep and hogs. It
is also computed that the remaining stock of cattle is
30,000. In 1770 upwards of 90,000 bushels of corn
were exported, exclusive of wheat. The improvement
in husbandry has greatly increased since the suppression
of smuggling from the isle of Man : before that time
every farmer was mounted on some high promontory,
expecting the vessel with illicit trade j but since that
period, he sets in earnest to industry and cultivation.
Not but that the island was in the most remote times
famous for its fertility : Mon, Mam Gymry, the Nur¬
sing mother of Wales, was a title it assumed even in
the 12th century.
This island is divided into 77 parishes, of which most
of the churches are situated near the shores. By an ac¬
count given on the 13th of August 1563, there were
2010 households, or families, in Anglesey j allowing
five to a family, the whole number of inhabitants at
that period was 10,050. In 1811, the number of
houses was 7183, of families 7706, and of inhabitants
37,045. Of these families 5376 were occupied in
agriculture, 1453 in trade and manufactures, and 877
in other occupations. It appears then that since 1563
the number of inhabitants has nearly quadrupled. The
chief town is Beaumaris.
In ancient times this island was called Mow, Mona, or
Moneg. It was the great nursery of the religion of the
Druids, being the residence of the grand druid, or chief
pontiiF, and consequently of all the learned doctors in
that religion.
Many ancient monuments of druidism still remain
in the island.—At Tre’r Dryw, or the habitation of the
arch druid, are several mutilated remains, which have
hern described by Mr Howlands. His Bryn Gwyn, or
Brein Gwyn, or royal tribunal, is a circular hollow of
180 feet in diameter, surrounded by an immense agger
o( earth and stones, evidently brought from some other
place, there not being any mark of their being taken
from the spot. It has only a single entrance. This is
supposed to have been the grand consistory of the
druidical administration.—Not far from it was one of
the Gorseddau, now in a manner dispersed, but which
once consisted of a great copped heap of stones, on
which sat aloft a druid, instructing the surrounding
people multa de Meorum immortalium vi et potestate dis-
putare, et juventuti tradunt: Caes. lib. vi.—Here were
also the relicks of a circle of stones, with the cromlech
in the midst j but all extremely imperfect. Two of
the stones are very large j one, which serves at present
as part of the end of a house, is 12 feet 7 inches high,
and 8 feet broad; and another 11 feet high, and
23 feet in girth. Some lesser stones yet remain. This
circle, when complete, was one of the temples of the
druids, in which their religious rites were performed.
It is the conjecture of Mr Rowlands, that the whole
of these remains were surrounded with a circle of oaks,
and formed a deep and sacred grove: Jam per se ro-
horum elegant lucos, neqnc ulla sacra sine ea fronde
conjiciunt; (Plin. Hist. Nat. xv. 44.).—Near this
is Caer Leby or the moated intrenchment 3 of a
3
square form, with a double rampart, and broad ditch Anglesey,
intervening, and a lesser on the outside. Within -v—j
are foundations of circular and of square buildings.
This Mr Rowland supposes to have been the residence
of the arch druid, and to have given the name, Tre'r
Dryw, to the township in which it stands. At Trev
Wry are several faint traces of circles of stones, and
other vestiges of buildings ; but all so dilapidated, or
hid in weeds, as to become almost formless. Bod-
druddn, or the habitation of the druids, Tre'r-Beirdd,
or that of the bard, and Bodowyr, or that of the
priests, are all of them hamlets, nearly surrounding the
seat of the chief druid, composing the essential part of
his suite. At the last is a thick cromlech, resting on
three stones.
The shore near Porthamel, not far from hence, is
famed for being the place where Suetonius landed, and
pul an end in this island to the druid reign. His in¬
fantry passed over in flat-bottomed boats, perhaps at
the spot still called Pant yr Yscraphie, or the valley of
Skiffs. His cavalry crossed partly by fording, partly
by swimming. Of the conflict on this occasion we
have the following animated description by Tacitus * : * Annul.
“ Stat pro littore diversa acies, densa armis virisque,xlv* 3°*
intercursantibus foeminis in modum furiarum, veste fe-
rali, crinibus dejectis, faces preferebant; drvidceque cir-
cum, preces diras sublatis ad coelum manibus funden-
tes. Novitate aspectus percutere militem, ut quasi hse-
rentibus membris, immobile corpus vulneribus praebe-
rent. Dein cohortationibus duels, et se ipse stimulantes,
ne muliebre et fanaticum agmen pavescerent, inferunt
signa, sternuntque obvios et igni suo involvunt. Prae-
sidium posthac impositum vicis, excisique Icici, saevi su-
perstitionibus sacri. Nam cruore captivo adolere aras,
et hominum fibris consulere deos fas habebant.”—Thus
Englished : “ On the shore stood a motley army in
close array, and well armed ; with women running
wildly about in black attire, with dishevelled hair, and
like the furies brandishing their torches; surrounded by
the druids, lifting up their hands to heaven, and pour¬
ing forth the most dreadful imprecations. The soldier
stood astonished with the novelty of the sight. His
limbs grew torpid, and his body remained motionless,
resigned to every wotmd. At length, animated by
their leader, and rousing one another not to be inti¬
midated with a womanly and fanatic band, they dis¬
played their ensigns, overthrew all who opposed them,
and flung them into their own fires. After the battle,
they placed garrisons in the towns, and cut down the
groves consecrated to the most horrible superstitions :
for the Britons held it right to sacrifice on their altars
with the blood of their captives, and to consult the
gods by the inspection of human entrails.” There are
no traces of any Roman works left in this country,
Their stay was so short, that they had not time to form
any thing permanent.
Near the ferry of Moel y Don appear the fine woods
of Sir Nicholas Bayley, skirting the Menai for a con¬
siderable way. The wooded part of the island is on
this side. It commences at Llanidan, and recals the
ancient British name of Anglesey, TTnys Dy wyll, or the
Dark Island, on account of the deep shade of its
groves: but at present it is (except in this part) entirely
divested of trees ; and the climate so averse to their
growth, that in most parts it is with great difficulty
A N G [ 347 ] A N G
Anglesey, the gentry can raise a plantation round their houses.
Plas Newydd, the seat of Sir Nicholas Bayley, lies
close upon the water, protected on three sides by vene¬
rable oaks and ashes. The view up and down this
magnificent river-like strait is extremely fine. The
shores are rocky those on the opposite side covered
with woods 5 and beyond soar a long range of Snovv-
douian Alps. Here stood a house built by Gwenllian,
a descendant of Cadrod Hardd. The mansion has been
improved, and altered to a castellated form by the pre¬
sent owner.
In the woods are some very remarkable druidical
antiquities. Behind the house are to be seen two vast
cromlechs. The upper stone of one is 12 feet 7
inches long, 12 broad, and four thick, supported by
jfive tall stones. The other is but barely separated from
the first; is almost a square of five feet and a half,
and supported by four stones. The number of sup¬
porters to cromlechs is merely accidental, and de¬
pends on the size or form of the incumbent stone.
These are the most magnificent we have, and the high¬
est from the ground ; for a middle-sized horse may
easily pass under the largest. In the lands of Llugwy,
indeed, there is a most stupendous one of a rhomboi-
dal form. The greatest diagonal is 17^ feet, the les¬
ser 1 5, and the thickness three feet nine inches ; but
its height from the ground is only two feet: it was
supported by several stones. The Welsh, who ascribe
every thing stupendous to our famous British king, call
it Arthur's Quoit. In the woods at this place are some
druidical circles nearly contiguous to each other.
At a small distance from Beaumaris, on the shore,
stand the remains of Llanvaes, or the Friars. It was
founded by Prince Llewelyn ap Jerwerth, and, accord¬
ing to the general tradition of the country, over the
grave of his wife Joan, daughter of King John, who
died in 1237, and was interred on the spot. Here also
were interred a son of a Danish king, Lord Clifford,
and many barons and knights who fell in the Welsh
wars. It was dedicated to St Francis, and consecrat¬
ed by Howel bishop of Bangor, a prelate who died in
1240. The religious were Franciscans, or minor friars.
Their church and house were destroyed, and their lands
wasted, in the insurrection made soon after the death
of Llewelyn, last Welsh prince, by his relation Madoc.
Edward II. in consideration of their misfortunes, re¬
mitted to them the payment of the taxes due to him,
which before the war were levied at the rate of 12I. 10s.
These friars were strong favourers of Owen Glendwr.
Henry IV. in his first march against Owen, plundered
the convent, put several of the friars to the sword,
and carried away the rest; but afterwards set them at
liberty, made restitution to the place, but peopled it
•with English recluses. It possibly was again reduced
to ruin *, for Henry V. by patent, establishes here eight
friars, but directs that only two should be Welsh. At
the dissolution, Henry VIII. sold the convent and its
possessions to one of his courtiers. They became in
latter days the property of a family of the name of
White (now extinct), who built here a good mansion.
It of late became, by purchase, the property of Lord
Bulkeley. The church is turned into a barn, and the
coffin of the princess Joan now serves for a watering
trough. A little farther is Castell Aber Llienawg, a
small square fort, with the remains of a little round
tower at each corner. In the middle stood a square Anglesey,
tower. A fosse surrounds the whole. A hollow- way At"—1
is carried quite to the shore, and at its extremity is a
large mound of earth designed to cover the landing.
This castle was founded by Hugh Lupus earl of Chester,
and Hugh the Red earl of Shrewsbury, in 1098, when
they made an invasion, and committed more savage bar¬
barities on the poor natives, especially on one Kenred
a priest, than ever stained the annals of any country.
Providence sent Magnus king of Norway to revenge
the cruelties. His coming was to all appearance casual.
He offered to land, but was opposed by the earls. Mag¬
nus stood in the prow of his ship, and calling to him a
most expert bowman, they at once directed their arrows
at the earl of Shrewsbury, who stood all armed on the
shore. An arrow pierced his brain through one of his
eyes, the only defenceless part. The victor, seeing him
spring up in the agonies of death, insultingly cried out
in his own language, Leite loupe, “ Let him dance.”
This fort was garrisoned so lately as the time of
Charles I. when it was kept for the parliament by Sir
Thomas Cheadle; but was taken by Colonel Robinson
in 1645.
Above Llandonna is a high hill, called Bwrrcl Ar¬
thur, or Arthur’s round table : the true name w-as pro¬
bably Din or Dinas Sulwy: for a church immediately
beneath bears that of Llanvihangle Din-Sulwy. On
the top of it is a great British post surrounded by a
double row of rude stones with their sharp points up¬
permost } and in some parts the ramparts are formed of
small stones. In the area are vestiges of oval build¬
ings j the largest is formed with two rows of flat stones
set on end. These had been the temporary habitations
of the possessors. It had been a place of vast strength :
for, besides the artificial defence, the hill slopes steep¬
ly on all sides, and the brink next to the ramparts is
mostly precipitous. It is worth while to ascend this
hill for the sake of the vast prospect, and intermixture
of »ea, rock, and alps, most savagely great.
About two miles south of Plas Gwyn, the seat of
Paul Panton, Esq. was situated Penmynnydd, once the
residence of the ancestors of Owen Tudor, second hus¬
band to Catherine of France, queen dowager of Hen¬
ry V. ; “ who beyng (as honest Halle informs us)
young and lustye, folowyng more her own appetyte
than frendely consaill, and regardyng more her pri¬
vate affection than her open honour, toke to husband
privily (in 1428) a goodly gentylman, and a beauti¬
ful person, garniged with manye godly gyftes both of
nature and of grace, called Owen Teuther, a man
brought forth and come of the noble lignage and aun-
cient lyne of Cadwalader, the last kynge of the Bri-
tonnes.” The match, important in its consequences,
restored the British race of princes to this kingdom :
These reigned long, under the title of the House of
Tudor ; the mixed race having ceased on the acces¬
sion of Henry VII. grandson to our illustrious country¬
man. The remains of the residence of the Tudors are,
the door of the gateway : part of the house, and the
great chimneypiece of the hall, are to be seen in the
present farm-house. Some coats of arms, and dates ot
the building or time of repairs, are to be seen, with
the initial letters of the names of the owners. The
Tudors, for a considerable space before the extinction
of their race, assumed the name of Oiven. Richard
X x 2 was
A N G C 348 ] A N G
Anglesey, was the last male of the family, and was sheriff of the
—-v —■’-■l county in 1657. Margaret, heiress of the house, mar¬
ried Coningsby Williams, Esq. of Gian y gors, in this
. island, who possessed it during his life. It was after¬
wards sold to Lord Bulkeley, in whose descendant it
still continues. In the church of Penmynndydd is a
most magnificent monument of white alabaster, remo¬
ved at the dissolution from the abbey of Llanvaes to
this place ; probably erected in memory of one of the
House of Tudor, who had been interred there. On it
is the figure of a man in complete armour, a conic helm,
and mail guard down to his breast: his lady is in a
thick angular hood ; their feet rest on lions, and their
heads are supported by angels.
On the western point of the bay is a small cape, flat
at top, called Castell Mawr, joined to the land by a
low isthmus. It is composed of limestone, which is
carried to distant parts in small vessels, which lie in a
small channel near the rock, and by their numbers fre¬
quently enliven the view. Homan coins have been
found in this neighbourhood; but there are no vestiges
of there having been any station. Beyond Castlemawr,
on the shore, are vast blocks of black marble filled with
shells, coralloids, and fungitse.
At Trysclwyn mountain is the most considerable
body of copper ore perhaps ever known. The part of
Trysclwyn which contains it is called Parys mountain.
Of this mountain, and the works there carried on, we
have the following very curious and particular account
* Tour in by Mr Pennant* :—“The external aspect of the hill
JJ-ates, IL jg extremely rude, and rises into enormous rocks of
coarse white quartz. The ore is lodged in a bason, or
hollow, and has on one side a small lake, on whose
waters, distasteful as those of Avernus, no bird is
known to alight. The whole prospect of this tract has,
by the mineral operations, assumed a most savage ap¬
pearance. Suffocating fumes of the burning heaps of
copper arise in all parts, and extend their baneful in¬
fluence for miles round. In the adjacent parts vege¬
tation is nearly destroyed: even the mosses and lichens
of the rocks have perished ; and nothing seems capable
of resisting the fumes but the purple melic grass, which
flourishes in abundance. It is thought that the ore
had been worked in a very distant period. Vestiges
of the ancient operations appear in several parts, car¬
ried on by trenching, and by heating the rocks intense¬
ly, then suddenly pouring on water, so as to cause them
to crack or scale j thus awkwardly supplying the use of
gunpowder. Pieces of charcoal were also found, which
proves that wood was made use of for that purpose. As
the Britons imported all works in brass, it is certain
that the Homans were the undertakers of these mines j
and it is very probable that they sent the ore to Caer-
hen to be smelted, the place where the famous cake of
copper was discovered. They might likewise have had
a smelting hearth in this island ; for a round cake of
copper was discovered at Llanvaethlle, a few miles
from this place. Its weight was fifty pounds, and it
had on it a mark resembling an L.
“ In the year 1762, one Alexander Frazer came
into Anglesey in search of mines. He visited Parys
mountain j called on Sir Nicholas Bayley, and gave
him so flattering an account of the prospect, as in¬
duced him to make a trial, and sink shafts. Ore was
discovered ; but before any quantity could be gotten,
the mines were overpowered with water. In about Anglrsey
two years after, Messrs lioe and Co. of Macclesfield
applied to Sir Nicholas for a lease of Penrhyn ddu mine
in Caernarvonshire ; with which they were, much
against their wills, compelled to take a lease of part of
this mountain, and to cairy on a level, and make a fair
trial. The trial was accordingly made j ore was dis¬
covered 5 but the expences overbalanced the profits.
They continued working to great loss ■, and at length
determined to give the affair up. They gave their
agent orders for that purpose: but he, as a final at¬
tempt, divided his men into ten several companies, of
three or four in a partnership, and let them sink shafts
in various places, about eight hundred yards eastward
of a place called the Golden Venture, on a presumption
that a spring, which issued from near the place, must
come from a body of mineral. His conjecture was
right ; for in less than two days they met with, at the
depth of seven feet from the surface, the solid mineral,
which proved to be that vast body which has since been
worked to such advantage. The day that this dis¬
covery was made was March 2. 1768 : which has ever
since been observed as a festival by the miners. Soon
after this discovery, another adventure was begun by
the reverend Mr Edward Hughes, owner of part of
the mountain, in right of his wife Mary Lewis of Llys
Hulas ; so that the whole of the treasure is the pro¬
perty of Sir Nicholas Bayley and himself. The body
of copper ore is of unknown extent. The thickness
has been ascertained in some places by the driving of a
level under it, several years ago, and it was found to
be in some places twenty-four yards. The ore is most¬
ly of the kind called by Cronsted, Pyrites cupri jiavo-
viridescens, and contains vast quantities of sulphur. It
varies in degrees of goodness j some of it is rich, but
the greater part poor in quality.
“ There are other species of copper ore found here.
Of late a vein of the Pyrites cuprigriseus of Cronsted,
about seven yards wide, has been discovered near the
west end of the mountain : some is of an iron gray,
some quite black ; the first contains sixteen lb. of cop¬
per per loolb. j the last forty. An ore has been lately
found, in form of loose earth, of a dark purplish co¬
lour j and the best of it has produced better than eight
in twenty. Some years ago, about thirty pounds of
native copper were found in driving a level through a
turbery j some was in form of moss, some in very thin
leaves.
“ It is quarried out of the bed in vast masses } is
broken into small pieces $ and the most pure part is
sold raw, at the rate of about 3I. to 61. per ton, or
sent to the smelting-houses of the respective companies
to be melted into metal. Mr Hughes has great fur¬
naces of his own at Bavenhead near Liverpool, and at
Swansea in South Wales. An idea of the wealth of
these mines may be formed, by considering that the
Macclesfield Company have had at once fourteen thou¬
sand tons of ore upon bank, and Mr Hughes thirty
thousand.
“ The more impure ore is also broken to the size of
about hens eggs; but in order to clear it from the quan¬
tity of sulphur with which it abounds, as well as other
adventitious matter, it must undergo the operation of
burning. For that purpose it is placed between two
parallel walls of vast length : some kilns are 20, others
4®
A N G [ 349 ] A N G
Anglesey. 40, and 50 yards in length ; some 10, others 20, feet
—'v~-J wide, and above four feet in height. The space be¬
tween is not only filled, but the ore is piled many feet
higher, in a convex form, from end to end. The
whole is then covered with flat stones, closely luted
with clay 5 and above is placed a general integument
of clay, and small rubbish of the work, in order to
prevent any of the fumes from evaporating. Of late,
some kilns have been constructed with brick arches
over the ore, which is found to be the best method of
burning. Within these few years, attempts are made
to preserve the sulphur from flying away; and that is
done by flues made of brick, whose tops are in form of
a Gothic arch, many scores of feet in length. One
end of these opens into the beds of copper which are
to be burnt. Those beds are set on fire by a very small
quantity of coal, for all the rest is effected by its own
phlogiston. The volatile part is confined to, and direct¬
ed to the flues $ in its course the sulphureous particles
strike against their roofs, and fall to the bottom in form
of the finest brimstone ; which is collected and carried
to adjacent houses, where it is melted into what is call¬
ed in the shops stone brimstone.
“ The beds of copper, thus piled for burning, are
of vast extent. Some contain 400 tons of ore, others
2000. The first require four months to be completely
burnt, the last near ten. Thus burnt, it is carried to
proper places to be pressed, or washed, and made mer¬
chantable. By this process the ore is reduced to a
fourth part in quantity, but considerably improved in
quality : and by this means the water is strongly or
richly impregnated with copper, which is dissolved
by the acid quality of the sulphur ; and is collected
or precipitated again by iron in the above-described
pits. The non is also dissolved.
“ But a far richer produce of copper is discovered
from the water lodged in the bottom of the bed of ore,
which is highly saturated with the precious metal.
This is drawn up, either by means of whimsies or
windmills, to the surface, and then distributed into
numbers of rectangular pits 36 feet long, some pits
more some less, 12 to 15 feet broad, and 20 inches
deep. To speak in the language of the adept, Venus
must make an assignation with Mars, or this solution
will have no effect. In plain English, a quantity of
iron must be immersed in the water. I he kind of iron
is of no moment j old pots, hoops, anchors, or any re¬
fuse, will suffice \ but of late, for the convenience of
management, the adventurers procure new plates, four
feet long, one and a half broad, and three quarters of an
inch thick. These they immerse into the pits. The
particles of copper instantly are precipitated by the iron,
and the iron is gradually dissolved into a yellow ochre.
Great part of it floats off by the water, and sinks to the
bottom. The plates, or the old iron (as it happens),
are frequently taken out, and the copper scraped oil ;
and this is repeated till the whole of the iron is consu¬
med. The copper thus procured differs little from na¬
tive copper, and is prized accordingly, and sold for pri¬
ces from 25I. to 45I. a ton.
“ This discovery is far from new : it has been prac¬
tised long in the Wicklow mines in Ireland} and above
a century in those of Hern-grundt in Hungary, where
it is called •ziment copper. The waters of the. Hunga¬
rian mines are much more strongly impregnated with
2 ^
copper than those of Parys mountain. The first ef- Anglesey.
fects its operation in about 12 or 20 days, the last re- ^—~v '
quires two months. Horse shoes, iron made in shape
of hearts and other forms, are put into the foreign wa¬
ters ; and when perfectly transmuted, are given as pre¬
sents to curious strangers.
“ The ore is not got in the common manner of min¬
ing, but is cut out of the bed in the same manner as
stone is out of A quarry. A hollow is now formed in
the solid ore open to the day, and extends about 100
yards in length, about 40 yards in breadth, and 24
yards in depth. The ends are at present undermined,
but supported by vast pillars and magnificent arches,
all metallic j and these caverns meander far under
ground. These will soon disappear, and thousands of
tons of ore be gotten from both the columns and roofs.
The sides of this vast hollow are mostly perpendicular,
and access to the bottom is only to be had by small
steps cut in the ore j and the curious visitor must trust
to them and a rope, till he reaches some ladders, which
will conduct him the rest of the descent. On the
edges of the chasms are wooden platforms, which pro¬
ject far ; on them are windlasses, by which the work¬
men are lowered to transact their business on the face
of the precipice. There suspended, they work in mid
air, pick a small place for a footing, cut out the ore
in vast masses, and tumble it to the bottom with great
noise. In such situations they form caverns, and there
appear safely lodged till the rope is lowered to convey
them up again. Much of the ore is blasted with gun¬
powder, eight tons of which are said to be annually used
for the purpose.
“ Nature hath been profuse in bestowing her mine¬
ral favours on this spot: for above the copper ore, and
not more than three quarters of a yard beneath the
common soil, is a bed of yellowish greasy clay, from
one to four yards thick, containing lead ore, and
yielding from 600 to 1000 pounds weight of lead from
one ton 5 and one ton of the metal yields not less than
47 ounces of silver. Mixed with the earth, are fre¬
quently certain parts of the colour of cinnabar. Whe¬
ther these are symptomatic of the sulphureous arsenical
silver ores or of quicksilver, I will not pretend to de¬
cide. Something interferes with the successful smelt¬
ing of this earth in the great 5 insomuch that it has
not yet been of that profit to the adventurers which
might reasonably be expected from the crucible assays
of it \ and they have at this time about 8000 tons on
bank undisposed of. This place has been worked for
lead ore in very distant times. In the bottom of the
pool was found an ancient smelting hearth of grit
stone, and several bits of smelted lead, of about four
inches in length, two in breadth, and half an inch
thick.
“ These works have greatly added to the popula¬
tion of the island : for about 1500 persons are employ¬
ed 5 who, with their families, are supposed to make
near 8000 persons, getting their bread from these
mines. The little village of Amlwch, the port of the
place, is increasing fast, and the market grows consi¬
derable. At the season of the greatest work, Mr
Hughes’s men alone receive for many weeks 2Col. in
one week, and 150I. in another, merely for subsistence.
The port is no more than a great chasm between two
rocks, running far into land, and dry at low water j
into >,
A N G [35
Angle ey, Into which sloops run, and lie secure to receive their
Angling, lading.”
*—'■■v—-' Near Kemlyn bay is a quarry of marble, common
to this place, some parts of Italy, and to Corsica, and
known in the shops by the name of Verdi di C/orsic(i»
It colours are green, black, white, and dull purple,
irregularly disposed. In different blocks one or other
of the colours is frequently wanting 5 but among the
green parts are oftener found narrow veins of a most
elegant and silky white asbestos. It is a compound
species of marble: part is calcareous, and may be act¬
ed on by nitric acid. The green parts partake of the
nature of jasper. It is apt to be intersected by small
cracks, or by asbestine veins, therefore incapable of ta¬
king a high polish. This quarry lies on the lands of
Monachty, in the parish of Llan-Fair-Ynghornwy *,
and it is found again in the isle of Skerries, off this pa¬
rish. Neither the quarry nor the asbestos are at pre¬
sent in use. In Rhoscolyn parish, a green amianthus,
or brittle asbestos, is met with in great plenty in a
green marble similar to the above 5 but by reason of
the inflexible quality of its fibres not applicable to the
same use. See Anglesey, Supplement.
• ANGLING, among sportsmen, the art of fishing with
a rod, to which are fitted a line, hook, and bait. See
Fishing-Hod, Fishing-Hook, FisniNG-Fly.
The angler’s first business is to attract the fish to the
place intended for angling. The method of doing this,
in standing waters, by throwing in grains, chopped
worms, and the like, is well known: but the chief dif¬
ficulty is in running rivers and brooks. The method,
in this case, is to prepare a tin box capable of holding
some hundreds of worms, bored on all sides, and full
of holes of such a size as they may he just able to
% crawl out at; there must be a plummet fastened to this
box to sink it, and a line to draw it back at pleasure;
in this case it is to be thrown into the water in a proper
place, above which the angler may stand under cover.
The worms will slowly and gradually crawl out of this
box, and the fish will be gathered about to feed on them ;
the baited hook is to be thrown in higher up and carri¬
ed down by the stream. If this method do not bring
the fish about the place in a little time, there is reason
to suspect that some pike lies lurking thereabout, and
deters them : in this case, it is proper to throw out a
baited hook, and he will generally be taken 3 after this
the attempt will succeed.
Wb en the angler takes his stand, he is to shelter
himself under some tree or bush, or stand so far from
the brink of the water that he can only discern his
float; as the fish are timorous and easily frightened
away. The angling rod must be kept in a moderate
state, neither too dry nor too moist: in the first case,
it will be brittle 3 in the other, rotten. When pastes
are used, it is proper to mix a little tow with them,
and rub them over with honey 3 finally, a small anoint¬
ing with butter is of great use to keep them from wash¬
ing off the hook. The eyes of any fish that is taken
are an excellent bait for almost any other kind of fish.
The best way of angling with the fly is down the ri¬
ver, and not up ; neither need the angler ever make
above half a dozen of trials in one place, either with fly
or ground bait, when he angles for trout: by that time
the fish will either offer to take, or refuse the bait and
not stir at all.
0 ] A N G
In a pond, the best place for the angler to take his ^ j.
stand is usually that where the cattle go up into wa- 0
ter : in rivers, if breams are fished for, it should be in Anglus,
the deepest and most quiet places 3 if eels, under the v"—"
banks of rivers that hang over 3 perch are to be expect¬
ed in clean places, where the stream is swift 3 and chub
in deep shaded holes : roach are mostly found where the
perch are, and trout only in swift and clear streams.
Places where there are many weeds, or old stumps of
trees, harbour fish in great numbers, and they usually
bite freely there 5 but there is danger of entangling the
line, or fastening the hook to the weeds. In case of
this accident, recourse is to be had to a ring of lead,
of about six inches round, fastened to a small pack¬
thread : this ring is to be thrust over the rod, and let
fall into the water. It will descend to the place where
the hook is entangled 3 and then, by pulling the pack¬
thread gently, the hook will be soon disengaged, or
at the worst it can only be broke off near the end of
the line 3 whereas, when this is not employed, the rod
itself is sometimes broken, or the line nearer its upper
end.
Deep waters are best for angling in, for the fish do
not love to be disturbed by wind and weather.
The openings of sluices and mill dams always bring
fish up the current to seek for the food which is brought
with the stream 3 and angling in these places is usually
successful.
The best season is from April to October 3 for, in
very cold stormy weather, the fish will not bite 3 the
best times of the day are from three till nine in the
morning, and from three in the afternoon till sunset.
In an easterly wind, there is never much sport for the
angler 3 the southerly winds are the best for his pur¬
pose, and a warm but lowering day is most of all to be
chosen 3 a gentle wind, after a sudden shower, to di¬
sturb the water, makes a very good opportunity for
the angler : the cooler the weather in the hottest
months, the better 3 but in winter, on the contrary,
the warmer the day the better. A cloudy day, after
a bright moonlight night, is always a good day for
sport 5 for the fish do not care for going after prey in
the bright moonshine, and are therefore hungry the
next morning.
Those who are fond of angling might save themselves
some fruitless trouble, by observing when small fish in
a jar take or refuse food. See Fish.
The several methods of angling for salmon, trout,
carp,tench, perch, pike, dace, gudgeon,roach, flounder,
&c. may be seen under the article Fishing.
ANGLO-Calvinists, a name given by some writers
to the members of the church of England, as agreeing
with the other Calvinists in most points except church
government.
ANGLO-Saxon, an appellation given to the language
spoken by the English Saxons 3 in contradistinction
from the true Saxon, as well as from the modern
English.
ANGLUS, Thomas, an English priest, well known
for the singularity of his opinions, and several little
tracts which he wrote in the 17th century. He went
by several names. Mr Baillet says his true name was
White ,* but that he used to disguise it under that of
Candidns, Alhvs, JBianehi, and Richivorth ; but he was
most known in France by the name of Thomas Anglus.
A N G ^ [ 35
Anglus ^es ^ar^es generally called him Mr Vitus. He pas-
[] sed some time in most countries of Europe j but his
Angola, longest stay was at Rome and Paris. When he was in
■—V 1 England, he lived a considerable time in the family of
Sir Kenelm Digby $ and seems to have had a great
esteem for the opinions of this gentleman, as may be
seen in his writings, particularly in the Preface to his
Latin work concerning the Institutions of the Peripa¬
tetic Philosophy, according to the hypothesis of Sir Ke¬
nelm. He was a great advocate for the Peripatetic
philosophy. He attempted even to make the princi¬
ples of Aristotle subservient to the explaining the most
impenetrable mysteries of religion ; and with this view
he engaged in the discussion of predestination, free will,
and grace. Mr Baiilet says, “ What he wrote upon
this subject resembles the ancient oracles for obscurity.”
In such abstruse points as we have mentioned, he was
much embarrassed j and, by giving too great scope to
his own thoughts, he pleased neither the Molinists nor
Jansenists. He is allowed, however, to have been a
man of an extensive and penetrating genius. On the
10th of June 1658, the congregation of the Index Ex-
purgatorius at Rome condemned some treatises of Tho¬
mas Anglus. The doctors of Douay censured also
22 propositions extracted from his Sacred Institutions.
He published his Supplicatio postulativa justitice, in op¬
position to their censure 5 wherein he complains that
they had given him a vague undetermined censure,
without taxing any particular proposition. He died
some time after the restoration of Charles II. but in
what year is uncertain.
ANGOL, a city of Chili in South America, now in
ruins. W. Long. 72. 59. S. Lat. 37. 36.
ANGOLA, a kingdom on the western coast of A-
frica, lying, according to the most probable accounts,
between Lat. 8. 30. and 16. 21. S. forming a coast of
upwards of 480 miles ; but how far it extends from west
to east, has never been exactly determined. Angola
Proper is bounded on the north by the river Danda,
which separates it from Congo j and on the south by
the Coanza, by which it is separated from Benguela.
This last, however, is now included in the kingdom
of Angola, having been conquered by its monarchs,
though it still retains the name of a kingdom, and is in¬
cluded in the dimensions we have just now given. The
air here is very hot and unwholesome, and the country
mountainous j there being but few plains to be met with
in it, except on the sea-coast, and between the huge
ridges of mountains.
Original] That part of the kingdom which we have distinguish-
a province e<^ name Angola Proper, was subject to the
Congo. kings of Congo in the year 1484, when the Portuguese
first discovered the country : but how long it had been
so before that time, is not known j the inhabitants being
utterly destitute of chronology, and having no other
way of distinguishing past events, but by saying they
happened in such a king’s reign. Neither, though An¬
gola became a distinct kingdom since its discovery by
the Portuguese, is it known with more certainty at
what time that revolution happened ; or whether the
Portuguese were not concerned in assisting the viceroy
of the king of Congo, who governed the province ot An¬
gola, to set up for himself.
All accounts agree, that this kingdom was founded
by one Ngola or Angola, from whom it took its name.
■ ]
A N G
According to the tradition of the country, this Ngola Angola,
was a smith, and the inventor of that trade, in which '
he had been instructed by the demons of the country., 2,
Inconsequence of this, he became exceedintr rich, not‘iat^tI0n
in gold, silver, or shell money, which were not at that jts becom-
time in use, but in corn, cattle, and fruits, which wereing a di-
then exchanged in traffic. The country being not longst*nct king-
after visited by a grievous famine, Ngola generously re-^0,n*
lieved his distressed countrymen, and saved the lives of
some thousands. In gratitude for this generosity, he was
unanimously chosen king: and hence the smith’s trade
is reckoned among the royal arts of Angola.
According to other accounts, which can be more de-Moreau-
pended upon, Ngola was the king of Congo’s viceroy jthentic ac-
who, having become powerful by the reduction of seve-count*
ral of the neighbouring states, was induced to set up for
himself. Dreading, nevertheless, the power of his old
master, he chose to send him the usual tribute and pre¬
sents annually, till he reckoned himself firmly seated on
the throne, and had secured it to his descendants. His
measures were greatly facilitated by the wars which the
king of Congo was then engaged in with the Giagas, a
barbarous nation in the neighbourhood. These made
such a powerful inroad into his dominions that he was
glad to ask asssistance from Ngola; not as a subject,
but as a friend and ally. This was readily granted $
and the two monarchs continued ever after sending pre¬
sents and assistance to each other, and encouraging a
mutual commerce between their subjects. ^
Ngola lived to a great age, highly respected by his Ngola the
subjects, and in alliance with the king of Congo and finking,
the Portuguese, whose numerous settlements on the
coast had made them become very powerful. Accord¬
ing to the custom of the country, he had many wives
and concubines. By his chief favourite he had three
daughters, Zvnda Riangola, Tumba Riangola, and an¬
other whose name is unknown. Towards the latter
part of his life, the king’s chief care was to secure the
crown to the eldest of these j for which purpose he con¬
sulted his beloved queen, who encouraged him in the
design with all the eloquence in her power. By her
advice, he sent for his lieutenant-general, a favourite
slave, whom he had created viceroy over the whole king¬
dom to acquaint him with his resolution. The artful
minister did not fail to applaud his design, though his
intention was to defraud the princess, and seize the
throne for himself. He accordingly took the opportu¬
nity, one day, when that princess and the whole court
were employed in sowing their lands, to spread a re¬
port that the Angolic enemies had entered the king¬
dom, and were destroying every thing with fire and
sword. In this confusion, the treacherous viceroy con¬
ducted the three princesses to the royal palace 5 and ac¬
quainting Ngola with the pretended danger, urged him
to betake himself to a speedy flight. The frighted mo¬
narch, unable to stir with age, desired his minister to
take the most proper means for his safety: whereupon,
being a stout young fellow, he takes his majesty on his
back, and carries him into a neighbouring wood j where
he no sooner had him in a convenient place, than he
stabbed him with a dagger. This stratagem was too ^
shallow to remain long concealed $ the murderer was Murdered
quickly discovered, and many of the nobles rose in arms by bis prime
against him j but finding his party too strong to be 0P‘ ^ei'zcs
posed, they were at last obliged to submit, and su^er^ie0t{JrC)Iie3
'■ him.
A N G
[ 35
A N G
Angola, him quietly to ascend the throne, upon his publicly de-
 daring that he had not seized it but with a view or se¬
curing it to the princess Zunda Iliangola.
To this princess the usurper palliated his conduct in
e best manner he could $ and she had art enough to
the
6
J)eath of
the usurper
who is sue
ceeded by
Zunda lii-
angoia.
7
Murders
her ne¬
phew.
Is herself
murdered
by her sis¬
ter.
disguise her resentment so effectually} that he never
discovered the smallest occasion for jealousy. At last,
his sudden death gave Zunda an opportunity of ascend¬
ing the throne peaceably ; when she behaved with such
moderation and justice, as to gain the love and affec¬
tion of all her subjects. Her jealous temper prevent¬
ed her from marrying ; and, by giving too much way
to it, she came at last to dread as rivals the two sons
of her younger sister Tumba, and to form designs
against their life. To accomplish her purposes, she or¬
dered them to be brought to court, pretending to have
them educated under her own eye. This was declined
for some time but at length the queen prevailed so far
as to have the eldest sent to her j whom she no sooner
got in her power than she caused him to be massacred,
with all his attendants ; only one escaping, all covered
with wounds, to carry the dreadful news to the prin¬
cess and her husband.
On hearing of this bloody act, the afflicted parents
immediately sallied forth at the head of all their vassals.
They were waited for by Queen Zunda at the head of
a numerous army 5 but no sooner did her soldiers per¬
ceive the parents of the deceased prince, than they im¬
mediately abandoned the queen to their resentment.
Tumba immediately rushed upon her sister, and stab¬
bed her to the heart j ^fter which, she commanded her
entrails to be taken out, and thrown into the hole in
which her son’s body had been cast. Upon this Tumba
was crowned queen of Angola, and invited her hus¬
band to participate with her in the management of
public affairs. Tills offer he was too wise to accept j
and Tumba, upon his refusal, resigned the crown into
the hands of her surviving son, named Angola Chilivag-
He proved a great and wise prince, extending his
Dambi An¬
gola a cruel
tyrant.
10
Ngola Chi-
livagni, his
conquests.
dominions by conquest, and gaining the love of his sub¬
jects by the moderation and equity of his government.
He was succeeded by one of his younger sons, named
Dambi Angola; who no sooner ascended the throne,
than he put all his brethren to death, lest they should
unite in favour of the eldest. The rest of his reign
proved conformable to such a beginning. He w;as a
monster of cruelty, avarice, lewdness, and perfidy.
Death, however, in a short time, happily delivered his
subjects from this tyrant; who, notwithstanding his
infamous life, was buried with the greatest magnifi¬
cence ; and a mount was erected over his grave, con¬
sisting, according to the custom of the country, of a
prodigious number of human victims which had been
sacrificed to his ghost. Dambi Angola was succeeded
by Ngola Chilivagni, a warlike and cruel prince. He
conquered many nations, and made the most dreadful
inroads into the kingdom of Congo, along the rivers of
Danda, Lucalla, Zanda, and Coanza •, whose waters
w'ere often tinged with the blood of thousands whom
lie massacred in his incursions. Notwithstanding these
butcheries, Ngola Chilivagni showed such generosity to
those who readily submitted to him, that he was sure
to conquer, not only wherever he came, but wherever
he seemed to direct his forces. At last, as if weary
of conquest, he planted a tree on the banks of the
2 ]
Coanza, about eight leagues from Loanda San Paulo, Angola,
as a boundary to his ravages. This tree the Portuguese "-“-"-v----
called Isanda or handaura; and afterwards erected a
fortress near it. jj
The same folly and insolence which took place in the Fancies
breast of Alexander the Great, on account of his rapid himself a
conquests, soon puffed up the mind of this petty Alii- Socl‘
can tyrant. Because he had conquered and ravaged
some of the neighbouring countries, and brought under
his subjection a few cowardly barbarians, he first
fancied himself invincible, and then that he was a god.
He demanded the same adoration and respect that was
paid to their other deities j and with this demand his
subjects were servile enough to comply. This pretend¬
ed deity however, w^as forced to submit to the late of
other mortals, and died without leaving a successor be¬
hind him.
On the decease of Ngola Chilivagni, the stales elect¬
ed Ngingha-Angola-Chilombo-Kickasanda, great ne¬
phew to Queen Tumha’s husband, as his successor. He
proved such a rapacious and cruel tyrant, that his sub¬
jects universally wished for his death •, which, luckily
for them, soon happened. He was interred with the
usual pomp and solemnities, particularly that of having
a whole hetacomb of human victims sacrificed upon his
grave. His son Band! Angola, who succeeded him,
proved yet a greater tyrant than his father ; so that he I2
soon became intolerable to his subjects. A general re- Revolt a-
volt ensued, in which his subjects called in the cannibal gainst Ba
Giagas to their assistance. These immediately poured di Angola
in like a band of hungry dogs hastening to feed upon
a carcass j and having defeated and devoured the forces
of the tyrant, besieged him in an inaccessible mountain j
where, not being able to come at him, they resolved to
reduce him by famine. Bandi Angola applied to the Qncuej t,
king of Congo for assistance. As it wTas the interest t]ie aSsist-
of that prince to hinder the ravenous Giagas from en-ance of tl
tering into the Angolic dominions, whence they could £ing otaili
so easily pass into his own, he did not hesitate at grant-
ing his request j and ordered a strong reinforcement of gUese,
the Portuguese, of whose valour he had a high opinion,
and of whom he entertained a great number at his
court, to march to the assistance of the king of Ango¬
la. The command of the army was given to one of
the most experienced Portuguese officers j who, de¬
pending more on the handful of Europeans he had un¬
der his command than on the Congoese, attacked the
rebels, though greatly superior in number j and having
utterly defeated them, restored the king of Angola to
his throne.
This essential piece of service so endeared the Portu¬
guese to Bandi Angola, that he took them into his ser- ^
vice, and even into his council. Their general became T],e k}ng
a grreat favourite of the king, but much more so of his daughter
daughter, who conceived a violent passion for him. falls in lo
Unfortunately for them both, the amour was earned
on with so little precaution on her part, that the kinggener°i.'
quickly discovered it; and immediately formed a reso¬
lution of exterminating the Portuguese all at once.
Such violent measures, however, could not be concert¬
ed so privately but the princess got some intelligence of
it $ and having apprised her lover of his danger, he im¬
mediately withdrew into Congo, taking with him as w]io ^th
many of his countrymen as he conveniently could. The t0 Cong0
king of Congo expressed such strong resentment against
Bandi
A N G
[ 353 ]
A N G
Angola.
16
.ays a plan
mg of
‘ortugal.
Baiiflx Angola for his ingratitude, that the Portuguese
general would have probably prevailed upon him to de¬
clare war against Angola, had he not been obliged to
defend his own dominions against a neighbouring prince
who then made an invasion. This a (forded that gene¬
ral a fair pretence of asking leave to return home j pro¬
mising to come with such reinforcements as would en¬
able the king of Congo to revenge himself for the af¬
front put upon him by the Angolic monarch. His
real intention, however, was to give the king of Por¬
tugal an opportunity of seizing upon the kingdom of
Angola.
On his return to Lisbon, the Portuguese general ha¬
ir the cou-ving laid his plan before the king, it was so well relish-
uest ot ed, that an armament was ordered to be fitted out, well
ire furnis^e^ every necessary for building fortresses,
&c. and a sufficient number of men. The wind proving
favourable all the way back, the Portuguese soon ar¬
rived safe at Loanda San Paulo j whence the general
dispatched a messenger to acquaint the king of Congo
with his arrival, and to make him some rich presents.
These were no sooner gone than the admiral sailed up
the Coanza j and, landing without opposition in the
kingdom of Angola, set about erecting a fortress in
a convenient situation, which was completed in a few
days.
The king being informed of the return of the Por¬
tuguese, and of their fortifying themselves on advanta¬
geous ground, gathered together a numerous army :
defeats the but his forces, though upwards of 100,000 in number,
Lngolans. were utterly defeated by the Portuguese ; and num¬
bers killed, and many more carried into slavery. The
admiral now ravaged the whole country, putting all to
fire and sword, and making himself master of every ad¬
vantageous spot of ground. The king, however, had
still the good luck to escape all the stratagems that were
laid for him $ and once more got safe to his inaccessible
fortress.
All this time Band! Angola had himself tyrannized,
and allowed his favourites to tyrannize, in such a man¬
ner, that his subjects were become no less weary of his
government than when they formerly revolted. Being
now exasperated beyond measure at the calamitous war
of which he had been the occasion, they formed a de¬
sign of putting an end to his life j and in order to draw
him out of his retreat, where he wallowed in all man¬
ner of debauchery, they had recourse to the following
stratagem: A deputation was sent, acquainting him
with the revolt of one Cuculo Cabazzo; who, at the
head of a numerous band, committed the jnost cruel
ravages. They besought his majesty, either to levy a
sufficient number of troops, and march in person against
him, or to allow them to arm themselves against him.
The credulous king complied with this last proposal j
and granted them leave to raise what force might be
thought necessary. Four days after, notice was sent to
the king, that his subjects had attacked the rebels, and
had been repulsed with loss; but that, if his majesty
would but condescend to animate them with his pre¬
sence, the sight of him would inspire them with such
courage, that they would assuredly prove victorious.
This had the desired effect 5 and the king set out a few
days after, without any other precaution than his own
guards, to head his army, which was encamped on the
banks of the Lucalla. He no sooner appeared in view
Vol. II. Part I. f
than all the chief officers came out to meet him j and Angola,
having under pretence of paying their respects, gradu- v——■f
ally separated him from his guards, they fell upon him j.8
and dispatched him at once. murl"
Bandi Angola was succeeded by his son Ngola Ban-fjg,.^,
di, whose mother had been a slave, and whose title to
the crown was consequently disputable, according to ^
the laws of the country. Of this the new king beingcrue]ty 0f
well apprised, thought proper to begin his reign by the new
murdering every person who had opposed his election.^lHS"
He began with the Tendula, or commander of the
king’s rear guard j who, by his office, is the chief of
the electors, and the person who governs the kingdom
during the interregnum. Him he ordered to be put
to death with all his family. These were followed by
the principal officers of his fathex-’s court *, all his con¬
cubines, together with their parents and near relations,
whom he caused to be butchered ■, together with his
half-brother, his father’s son by a favourite concubine,
and then but an infant. He did not spare even the son
of his sister Zingha Bandx, whom she had by one of her
paramours. The interest of his sister had contribu¬
ted greatly to raise this tyxant to the throne ; and his
ingratitude, with the murder of her son, so exasperated
her, that she swore to be revenged on him in the same
way. 20
The Portuguese were the next objects of his resent- Makes war
ment. These he so much di'eaded on account of their 011t*iC ^0l“
valour and policy, that he immediately declared war, anjUjg r’e_
resolving not to lay down his arms till he had extermi-ducecl to
nated them to the last man, or driven them totally outgreatdi-
of his dominions. His rashness, however, cost him dear. stress‘
Myriads of the Angolic poltroons wex-e overthrown by
a handful of Portuguese ; and the king himself was for¬
ced to fly, first into the island of Chiconda in the river
Coanza, and then into the deserts of Oacco. Here his
conquerors, out of gxeat clemency, allowed him to live
among the wild beasts, without any other sustenance
than what the deserts afforded. He had the misfortune
also to lose his queen and two sisters Cambi and Fungi
who were taken prisoners by the Portuguese, but ho¬
nourably treated.
The king being informed of this, sent an embassy to
treat of their ransom and an exchange of prisoners.
The proposal was readily agreed to } and the princesses 2r
were sent back, laden with pxesents. The king, how-His treach-
ever, refused to perform his part of the agreement, andery.
thereby plunged himself into still greater difficulties. A
new Portuguese viceroy being ai’rived about this time,
Ngola was quite at a loss how to excuse the non-per- 22
formance of his part of the treaty. At last he had re-Sends his
course to his exasperated sister Zingha ; and having ex- sister Zing-
cused, as well as he could, the murder of her son, Pr0" embassy^
posed to send her on a splendid embassy to the viceroy.
Having consented, but without forgetting her resent¬
ment, she set out, as plenipotentiary for the king of
Angola, with a magnificent retinue ; was received with
all the lionour due to her x’ank, and lodged in a splen¬
did palace prepared for her. 23
At the fii’st audience Zingha had of Don John (the Her haugh-
Portuguese vicei’oy), she was greatly surprised to find ty beliaYi-
a stately elbow chair prepared for him to sit upon, and1,U1'
for herself only a rich tapestry spread on the flooi’, with
a velvet cushion embroidered with gold, and placed over
against the chair of state. Dissembling her displeasure,
y y however,
A N G L 354 ] A N G
An^o1a. however, she beckoned to one of the ladies of her re-
v— tinue, commanded her to lay herself down on her el¬
bows and knees upon the carpet, and sat herselt upon
her back during the whole time of the audience. She
behaved with such address and dignity, as to gain the
admiration of the whole council. A proposal was made
of entering into an alliance offensive and defensive with
the king of Angola, provided he acknowledged him¬
self the vassal of the king of Portugal, and submitted
to pay a yearly tribute. To this Zingha replied, that
such conditions were indeed fit to be imposed upon
those who had been conquered by the sword ; hut not
upon a great and powerful monarch, who only sought
their friendship and alliance : upon which the treaty
was concluded on both sides, without any other con¬
ditions than the exchange of prisoners. The audience
being over, Don John took notice to Zingha, as he
conducted her out of the hall, that the lady who had
served her as a seat, continued still in the same posture j
upon which she replied, That it did not become the
ambassadress of a great monarch to make use of the
same chair twice, so she looked upon her as a piece of
cast-off goods not worthy of further notice.
Zingha was so taken with the honours done her by
the Portuguese, and so intent upon observing the or¬
der, dress, arms, &c. of their troops, that she staid at
24 Loanda a considerable time 5 during which she was in-
-F.rnbrac.es structed in the Christian religion, and consented to be
stian rell baptized. Don John and his spouse were her sponsors $
gjon, wh° dismissed her soon after, with all possible honours,
and highly satisfied with her reception and success.
At her return, she took care to have the articles rati¬
fied by her brother 5 who expressed his approbation of
them, and the highest obligations to her. He even went
so far as to desire the viceroy to send him some pro¬
per persons to instruct him in the Christian religion,
which he said he was very desirous of embracing. This
request was immediately granted j and Don Denis de
Fiara, a negro priest, a native of Angola, was de¬
spatched, along with an officer of distinction, to stand
godfather to the king. These met at first with a
gracious reception : but when they came to talk of bap¬
tism, Ngola altered his tone, and told them it was
too much below his dignity to receive it from the son
of one of his slaves, and sent them both back. This
was cried up by the courtiers as a princely act: but
Zingha represented, that it could not fail to exasperate
the viceroy*; and tried all possible means to dissuade
him from it, but in vain. He suffered, however, his
other two sisters, Cambi and Fungi, to be baptized ;
which was performed in 1625, with a splendour suited
25 to their dignity.
"War again As no experience seems to have been a sufficient an-
declared a tidote against the innate folly of Ngola Bandi, he soon
Portuguese. a^ter t00^ ^ ^nto ^‘s l'ead to make war on the Port u-
‘guese, and invaded some of their territories. This last
action proved his ruin: his troops were all cut off, and
himself forced to swim for his life to a small island in
the Coanza, about a mile long, and two bow-shots in
breadth ; whither the Portuguese pursued and sur¬
rounded him ; so that he had no other chance, but
either to fall into their hands, or be devoured by the
The king wild beasts with which the place swarmed. From both
poisoned, these dangers he was relieved by a dose of poison, given
him, as was supposed, by his sister Zingha. Before this
3
time, however, he had taken care to send his eldest Angola,
son to the country of the Giagas, and put him under v—
the care of one of their chiefs, called Giaga Cana,
whom he besought to take care of him, and protect him
from his aunt Zingha, as he rightly imagined she wmuld
not fail of attempting his life, in order to secure her¬
self on the throne. 27
Zingha Bandi was crowned queen of Angola, with-Zingha
out opposition, in 1627.—She was a very artful woman, ^an^e(j
endowed with great presence of mind, firm in her reso"qUceiu
lutions, of an intrepid courage, and a great mistress in
the art of dissimulation. She inherited a large share of
her brother’s jealous and cruel temper, to which she
would not hesitate to sacrifice her nearest relations, if
they gave her the least umbrage.—To this jealousy,
therefore, she resolved to sacrifice her nephew, as well
knowing he had a better title to the crown than herself.
She made use of the most solemn oaths to draw him out
of the hands of his guardian, protesting that she had
accepted of the throne with no other view than to pre¬
serve it for him. But Giaga, being well acquainted
with her temper, was proof against all her oaths and
fair speeches.—Zingha, finding this method ineffectual,
pretended a desire of resigning the crown to her nephew,
to which she said she had no other objection, than that
she was afraid he was yet incapable of assuming the
reins of government. She therefore desired an inter¬
view with him, though ever so short, that she might
satisfy herself in this particular, and promised to de¬
tain him no longer than Giaga should think necessary.
Giaga thought there could be no danger in consenting
to a short interview ; and therefore sent the unfortunate 28
prince to her, attended by a magnificent retinue. The She mur-
cruel queen no sooner got him in her powTer, than shedersher
murdered him with her own hand, and caused his body neP^e'v‘
to be thrown into the Coanza, ridding herself, by that
inhuman act, of a dangerous rival, as well as revenging
herself on her brother, as she had sworn to do, for the
murder of her son.
Zingha’s next scheme was to rid herself of the Por¬
tuguese, who had established themselves in such a man¬
ner as to be almost entire masters of the country. They
had built fortresses on every convenient spot that suited
them, especially near her principal towns, which they
could level with the ground tvith the greatest ease.
They had engrossed all her commerce, were become
very wealthy, and their numbers increased daily ; so
that they were dreaded not only by her subjects, but
by all the neighbouring nations. As Zingha was of a
martial temper, she did not long hesitate. She quick- 2p
ly made all necessary provisions, strengthened herselfDaclares
by alliances with the Giagas, and other idolatrous na*^},arp^„
tions, and even with the Dutch and the king of Congo.^uese
With this combined force she attacked the Portuguese
so suddenly and unexpectedly, that she gained some
advantages over them : and the Dutch made themselves
masters of San Paulo de Loanda, and soon after of some
of the best provinces in the kingdom. This happened
in the year 1641 ; and the Portuguese did not recover
these places till the year 1648, when the Dutch were
entirely driven out of Angola.
Zingha’s successes proved still more short-lived. Her Her bad
allies the Congoese were so completely overthrown,access,
that they were forced to sue for peace ; which the
Portuguese did not grant till they had gained a suf¬
ficient
A N G
Angola, ficient number of hostages, and obliged the Congoese
—^ ■ i to deliver up to them some considerable posts, upon
which they immediately erected fortresses. Zingha’s
troops were now defeated in every battle $ and these
defeats followed one another so close, that she was soon
abandoned, not only by her allies, but by her own
troops. She was now constrained to abandon her do¬
minions, and retire to some of the eastern deserts, whi¬
ther the Portuguese did not think it worth while to fol¬
low her.
Zingha being reduced to such distress, the Portuguese,
after giving her some time to ruminate on her situation,
sent her proposals of peace, upon condition that she
^ should become tributary to the crown of Portugal,
efuses t® This proposal she rejected with scorn j and let them
:come tri-know, that however her dastardly subjects might sub-
itary to missively and shamefully behave towards them, their
iem^2 queen disdained subjection to any foreign power. On
hey set up this haughty answer, the Portuguese, to mortify her
king-. still more, set up a king in her place. The person they
pitched upon was named Angola Oarij, or Aaru, who
was of the royal family. Before he was crowned,
the Portuguese obliged him to turn Christian j and he
was accordingly baptized by the name of John. The
new king, however, soon died of grief, at seeing him¬
self so hardly treated by his masters the Portuguese.
They quickly set up another, named Philip; who bore
the yoke with more patience, and lived to the year
1660.
'in ha’s a ^ie mean t'me Zingha, exasperated at seeing
ostasy and herself deprived of eleven of the best provinces in her
orrid bar- dominions, and her authority in the remaining six
arity. greatly weakened, renounced the Christian religion,
and embraced all the horrid and bloody customs of the
Giagas, whom she outdid even in their own barbarity.
—We have already hinted the barbarity of this nation
in eating human flesh. In this Zingha not only joined
them, but took pleasure in devouring the raw flesh of
human victims, and drinking their blood while warm
both at her sacrifices and at her public meals.—She af¬
fected a martial and heroic spirit, together with an ut¬
ter aversion to the male sex ; but, according to the Por¬
tuguese, maintained a number of the strongest and lust¬
iest youths, in whose embraces she gave a full scope to
her inclinations, and managed matters with such secre¬
cy that her intrigues could never be discovered. At the
same time she ordered many of her own sex to be ripped
up, when their incontinency was manifested by their
pregnancy ; and their bodies with those of the infants
to be cast to wild beasts.
But what made her most admired, as well as dreaded,
by her subjects, was a notion, that she had by various
stratagems inculcated upon them, of her being able to
penetrate into the most secret thoughts. To keep up
this apprehension, she ordered the bones ofher deceased
brother to be brought from the island where he was
poisoned, locked up in a chest covered with coarse plates
of silver, and laid on a fine carpet upon a pedestal. A
number of singhillos or priests were ordered to offer
sacrifices to these bones, and to keep lamps continually
burning before them. To this place she herselt fre¬
quently repaired, to assist at those rites, which, as she
gave out, and every body believed, engaged the spirit
of the deceased to inform her ot every thing that was
done, said, or even designed, either in the kingdom or
A N G
out of it.—To procure, however, as much real intelli- Angola,
gence as possible, she kept vast numbers of spies all over y—j
the kingdom, who constantly gave her notice of what
happened in their respective circles 5 amj this she so
cunningly improved to her own ends, that her subjects
looked upon her as a kind of deity from whom nothing
could be concealed. 34
By such means as these, Zingha gained such autho-Her influ-
rity over the Giagas, that they were ready, at the very
first indication of her will, to follow her through the D
most dreadful dangers, and to engage in the most des¬
perate enterprises. She now made many strenuous and
daring efforts to drive out the Portuguese ; but though
she had, in all probability, more valour and skill than
her enemies, their fire arms gave them such an advan¬
tage, that she was always defeated with great loss. Per¬
ceiving therefore the folly of attempts of this kind,
she contented herself with making continual inroads
into their country, carrying off or destroying every
thing that fell in her way. Though she spared nei-Her terri-
ther Europeans, nor blacks, who were subjects of the^eravagcs.
mock monarchs set up by the Portuguese, yet the case
of the former was peculiarly dreadful when they hap¬
pened to be taken prisoners. They were either roasted
by a slow fire, or had their flesh cut off in pieces, and
devoured before their faces, in the manner related by
Mr Bruce of the Abyssinian oxen *. In this manner
she infested the Portuguese territories for 28 years,smia'
scarce ever allowing them a moment’s cessation of arms.
Their mock kings were often obliged to shelter them¬
selves from her fury in an inaccessible rock called
Maopongo ; and they themselves could never hope to
enjoy their dominions with any kind of peace so
long as this furious queen continued alive. They in
vain exhausted all their politics either to reduce her
byTorce, or to mollify her by presents and fair offers.
The one she rejected with disdain, and always found
means to baffle the other. Nor would she hearken to
any terms, unless they consented to resign all their
conquests. The refusal of this demand was so com¬
monly followed by some marks of her resentment, that
it was with the utmost difficulty the Portuguese could
prevail on any body to carry their proposals to her j
and as for Zingha, she disdained to make any to them,
except those of the hostile kind. The terror of her
arms procured her a free passage wherever she directed
her course j all the inhabitants of a province making
no less haste to abandon, than she to invade it. Thus
she continued to advance, till at length she was got so
far as the small island of Dangii in the river Coanza.
The Portuguese now found themselves under the ne¬
cessity of raising an army of negroes, in order to drive
her out of it. Accordingly they surrounded the island,
and intrenched themselves along the banks on both sides
of the river ; but while they were busy at their work,
Zingha attacked them with such advantage, that she
killed and wounded several hundreds of the blarcks,
and some of the white men. Elated with this advan¬
tage, she was preparing for another attack ; when she
perceived, to her surprise, that the Portuguese had drawn
their lines so close, and raised them to such a height,
that they overlooked her whole camp, and could fire
upon her naked soldiers as if they shot at a mark.—
Thus great numbers of her men were cut off, particu¬
larly her chief dfificex’S. The queen, now perceiving the
Y y 2 danger
[ 355 ]
Angola.
3(S
Outwits the
Portuguese,
37
Her com¬
plicated
misfor¬
tunes?
38
The Portu¬
guese send
an embassy
to her.
39
The pro¬
posals re¬
jected.
A N G [ 356 ] . A N G
danger of her situation, amused the Portuguese with
proposals of an accommodation 5 and having obtained
a truce for three days, crossed the river in the dead of
the night, and led her forces to the province of Oacco.
The next morning, the Portuguese, seeing no human
creature upon the island, began to apprehend some new
stratagem ; but, upon landing some of their troops, they
perceived themselves over-reached, and deprived of the
fairest opportunity they ever had of forcing her to sur¬
render at discretion.
Zingha staid no longer in that province whither she
had retired, than till she was assured that the Portu¬
guese were retired from the Coanza ; and then, crossing
that river osice more, marched directly towards the
kingdom of Metamba, which had been invaded by
some of the neighbouring princes. The speed with
which she led her forces thither, and recruited her army
with multitudes of Giagas, who were all emulous of
fighting under her banner, quickly enabled her to re¬
cover some of her territories in that kingdom. Begin¬
ning now to think herself successful, she again attacked
the Portuguese ; hut was defeated with gi’eat loss, so as
to be obliged to send for fresh troops. To complete
her misfortunes, she received news that the Giaga Cas-
sangi had taken the advantage of her absence, to enter
the kingdom of Metamba with a numerous army,
had carried off the greatest part of the inhabitants, de¬
stroyed all the fruits of the earth, plundered the towns
of all that was valuable, and set fire to the rest, lea¬
ving that kingdom in a manner desolate. To add to
all this, her troops, exasperated at the loss of their
wives, children, and goods, which were carried to the
farthest corner of Benguela, were all on the point of
revolting.
Notwithstanding these disasters, Zingha behaved
with such resolution and address, that the Portuguese,
who, according to character, had probably instigated
the Giaga against her, were so much afraid of her
joining with him in alliance against them, that they
despatched one Anthony Coglio, a learned priest and
an excellent negociator, rvith Don Caspar Borgia an
eminent officer, under pretence of negociating a peace
between them, first to the Giaga, and aftenvards to
the queen. They met with a very civil reception from
the first, Avho told them that he Avas very willing to
live at peace Avith that princess, and even to let her
enjoy the kingdom of Metamba, though he was the
rightful heir to it, provided she Avould lay down her
arms. This answer encouraged the priest to try whe¬
ther he could prevail on him to embrace the Christian
religion ; but that Avas declined by the Giaga in such
strong terms, that the priest thought proper to desist,
and set out for Zingha’s camp.
The ambassadors, at their first arrival, met Avith such
a polite reception, as made them hope for success 5 but
after she had heard their proposals, she assumed a
haughty threatening tone, and told them in the conclu¬
sion of her speech, “ That it did not become her dig¬
nity to lay down her arms, till she had brought the Avar
she had begun to an honourable conclusion : that as to
the Giagas, Avhose sect she had embraced some years
before, and avIio had furnished her Avith such a prodi¬
gious number of forces to fight in her defence, her ho¬
nour and interest required that she should still keep
them in her service, and under her protection : and
2
lastly, that as to herself, she remembered, indeed, that Angola,
she had formerly embraced Christianity j but that it v-—<
was not how a proper season to propose her returning
to it, and they ought to remember that they themselves
Avere the cause of her abandoning it.”
Borgia, perceiving that she Avas not to be wrought
upon by religious motives, shifted the topic ; and told
her, that she had gained honour enough in war, and
that it Avas iioav high time to think of granting peace
and tranquillity to the subjects of two such pOAverful
kingdoms, and accept of the favour and friendship of
the king of Portugal, which Avas offered her by his
viceroy. To this the queen made ansAver, that she was
perfectly Avell acquainted with the valour and strength
of the Portuguese, and should esteem it an honour to
be allied to that monarch 5 but that she thought it just
that their respective claims to the dominions which
she justly inherited from her ancestors, and of A\hich
he had unjustly deprived her, should first of all be
decided, either by the sword or by some equitable jud¬
ges.
Borgia, vainly imagining that he had now obtained
enough, set off immediately for Loanda San Paulo ;
but left the priest, on some pretence or other, to see
Avhether, in the time of sickness, he could make any
impression on the inflexible mind of Zingha, Avho hoav
laboured under a lingering disease. Coglio, hoAvever,
found all his arts to no purpose $ and, upon the queen’s
recovery, she commenced the Avar Avith more fury than
ever.
For some time hostilities were carried on with va- zingha’c
rious success j Zingha being sometimes victorious and narrow
sometimes defeated. In one attempt of the latter kind, escape,
before the fortress of Massangana, she not only lost a
great number of men, but had her tAvo sisters Cambi
and Fungi taken prisoners, she herself escaping with the
utmost difficulty. Exasperated by this loss, she led her
troops into some of the best provinces of the Portu¬
guese, and reduced them to a mere wilderness. Still,
hoAvever, she had the mortification to find her losses
vastly greater than Avhat she gained j and had now the
additional misfortune of losing her sister Fungi, who
Avas put to death by the Portuguese for treachery, and
seeing her allies the Dutch totally expelled out of An-
Sola-. . . 41
Zingha being thus oppressed with a complication of Begim te>
misfortunes, and conscious of the crimes she had com-relent;
mitted, began seriously to consider whether such a con¬
tinued series of disasters Avas not owing to the displea¬
sure of the God of the Christians. To this opinion she
seemed to have inclined •, and therefore began to treat
with more lenity such Christians as fell into their hands,
especially if they happened to be priests or monks. To
these she now began to listen with some attention $ and
ordered them under severe penalties, to be treated with
all possible respect; yet, without losing in the least that
invincible hatred she had conceived against those Avho
had stripped her of her dominions, or dropping her
resolution never to make peace till she had recovered
them.
The viceroy, Don Salvador Correa, who had driven ljUl ^ re.
out the Dutch, being apprised of the regard shown to sj,ts the ar-
the clergy by Queen Zingha, thought proper to send tifices of
some capuchins to her, in hopes that they might nowthe f,°rlu‘
find her more tractable. But Zingha was still proofguese*
against
A N G
Angola.
against their utmost art; observing, however, that if
they would consent to restore what they had unjustly
taken from her, she would not only return to the Christi¬
an religion, but encourage it to the utmost of her power.
The viceroy, being now afraid that Zingha might
make an alliance against him with the king of Congo,
first raised a powerful army, and then acquainted that
monarch, that, if he designed to prevent the total ruin
of his dominions, he must immediately make reparation
for all the damage he had caused to the Portuguese by
his alliance with the Dutch. The fame of the Portu¬
guese valour so intimidated the king that he submitted
to a treaty almost on the viceroy’s own terms ; and as
soon as this treaty was concluded, Don RuyPegado, an
old experienced officer, was despatched to Zingha, of¬
fering a firm and lasting alliance with her, provided she
renounced the Giagan sect, and returned to the bosom
of the church. To this embassy she returned the old
answer, namely, that the Portuguese themselves had
been the occasion of all that had happened ; as they
had not only stripped her of her hereditary dominions,
but dared to proclaim one of her vassals king of Angola *,
but, provided these dominions were restored, she would
immediately embrace Christianity.
All this time the furious Queen Zingha went on with
her ravages, notwithstanding the viceroy kept plying her
with letters for near three years. At last he had re¬
course to the artifice of taking advantage of the remorse
for her crimes with which Zingha was sometimes affec¬
ted, in order to procure the peaceable enjoyment of his
own ill-gotten conquests.
It is easy to see, that had this viceroy, or the priests
he employed, really intended to convert Zingha to
Christianity, they ought to have so far set her an ex¬
ample, as at least to abandon part of the countries
of which they had robbed her : but, instead of this, they
impiously made use of the sacred name of our Saviour,
in order to deter a poor savage African from recover¬
ing what justly belonged to her.
She returns Queen Zingha, at last, came to incline so much to
to Christia-return to the Christian religion, that a general mur-
1 357 1
A N G
43
Their infa
mous con¬
duct.
nity
mur ran through her army. But having, by various
artifices, reconciled the minds of her subjects to this
event, she explained her design in a set speech ; offering
at the same time liberty to those who chose to abandon
her on this account to go where they would 5 and such
was their attachment to her, that even on such a sudden
and important change in her resolutions, they express¬
ed no uneasiness, but on the contrary applauded her to
the highest degree.
The Portuguese, after having been harassed in a ter¬
rible manner for 28 years, and at last obliged to pro¬
fane the name of their Saviour to procure a peace, be-
gan now freely to enjoy the fruits ol their villany. A
Treaty with treaty was set on foot between the viceroy and Zing-
the Portu- ba 5 which, however, was not easily concluded. She
demanded the release of her sister Cambi, whose Chri¬
stian name was Donna Barbara j and the Portuguese
demanded a ransom of 200 slaves or an equivalent in
money. This Zingha did not well relish 5 and, being
pressed to a compliance, threatened them with a more
furious war than any they had yet experienced. Upon
this the viceroy W'as obliged to have recourse to the
usual method of sending priests to persuade her to com-
guese pro¬
posed.
ply through motives of religion. These hypocrites ef- Angola,
fected their purpose; and the slaves were sent, as if Chri-—v—^
stianity required the delivering up innocent people to
those who had no lawful authority over them 5 but not
being able to conclude a lasting peace about the cession
of the Angolic provinces, they were forced to conclude
a short truce, and sent back her sister.
This princess was received by Zingha in a very af¬
fectionate manner : and, sometime after, the queen, her
mind being probably weakened through the infirmities
of old age, not only was thoroughly reconciled to the
Portuguese, but looked upon them as her best friends;
She encouraged the Christian religion j had a church
built in her capital j made several laws against Pagan¬
ism ; and, to encourage marriage, she herself wedded a
handsome young fellow in the 75th year of her age.
The Portuguese now imagining they would at last
gain their point, proposed to her the following termsj
as the basis of a lasting treaty between the two nations. 45
1. “That they should yield to her, as a present, some The Porlu-
of the countries of which they had already robbed her. guesc
2. That, in consideration of the said present, which tams‘
should in nowise be interpreted as an investiture, the
queen should pay yearly a certain acknowle<Jgnient to
the king of Portugal, who should be at liberty to with¬
draw the said present whenever she failed of making
the said acknowledgment. 3. That a free commerce
should he opened between those two states, as well for
slaves as for other merchandises. 4. That the queen
should molest none of the lords that were feudatory to
the Portuguese, whatever damages or ravages they
might have committed during the late wars between
them. 5. That she should restore all the Portuguese
slaves that had taken refuge in her dominions. 6. That
she should deliver up the Giaga Colanda, who had re¬
volted from the Portuguese, upon condition that his
crime should go unpunished.”
The queen, having now a thorough view of the deep-
rooted villany of those with whom she had to do, con¬
ceived such displeasure against the Portuguese, that she
fell sick. During this sickness, Father Anthony, her
chief confidant, and a creature of the viceroy, never
left off soliciting her to make her peace with God, and
to accept of the terms offered her by the Portuguese;
hut Zingha, though worn out with age and sickness,
had still the good sense to perceive, that tliere was no
connexion between making her peace with God and
complying with such infamous terms 5 and therefore
gave the following answer, which, under such circunir The queen*
stances, shows a magnanimity scarce equalled in anynuble an-
age or in any conntry. I. “ That as to her conver-bWer*
sion, as it was neither owing to any desire of obtaining
a peace, or other worldly motives, hut the Divine
grace by which she was recalled, she was resolved to
persevere in it to her last breath. 2. That as to her
going over to the Giagan sect, she had in a great mea¬
sure been forced to it by the Portuguese ■ viberoy.
3. That the king of Portugal would do a generous
act in restoring some of her Angolic dominions } but
it would be more so, were he to restore them all.
4. That as to her paying homage to him, neither her
mind nor heart were base enough to consent to it; and
that as she had refused the proposal while she lived
among the Giagas, much more did she think herself
above.
Angola.
4S
Articles of
the treaty.
. 49
The peace
signed.
5=>
Zingha’s
honourable
behaviour.
51
Defeats
and kills
the Giaga
Colanda.
A N G [ 358 ] A N G
above it now she was a Christian queen, and owed nei¬
ther tribute nor homage to any but to the Supreme
Power, from whom she had received both her being and
her kingdom : That, nevertheless, if she could be con¬
vinced that there was any thing in her dominions that
would be acceptable to his Portuguese majesty, she
would voluntarily make him a present of it; and as to
the rest of the articles, such was her desire of making
a firm and lasting peace with them, that she should
make no difficulty of consenting to them.”
This answer was not altogether satisfactory to the
viceroy j but the priest, finding it impossible to make
any impression upon her mind, easily prevailed upon
him to consent to the following terms : I. “ That the
river Lucalla should be the boundary between the domi¬
nions of the Portuguese and of Queen Zingha. 2. That
neither side should henceforth give any reception to the
fugitive slaves of the other, but send them back without
any delay, together with the prisoners which had been
taken during the last year. 3. That the queen should
remain wholly free and exempt from all tribute and ho¬
mage whatever, provided she agreed to the other ar¬
ticles.”
These terms were at last signed by the queen and
viceroy in the month of April 1657, and ratified by
the king of Portugal in the month of November the
same year.-—The only difficulty the queen had concern¬
ing this treaty was with regard to the Giaga Colanda:
and the manner in which she extricated herself from it,
with her subsequent behaviour, cannot fail to give us
a high idea of the mental abilities of this African he¬
roine.
The Giagan chief, weary of the Portuguese yoke,
had retired from them, at the head of 1000 stout sol¬
diers, and a much greater number of slaves, some
leagues beyond the river Lucalla, and put himself un¬
der the queen’s protection. This she readily granted,
as he was very able to be serviceable to her in case the
perfidious conduct of the Portuguese should oblige her
to renew the war. She could not therefore but look
upon it as unjust and dishonourable, to deliver up a
brave chief who had devoted himself to her service, and
whom she had taken under her special protection, to a
nation with whose perfidy she was so well acquainted.
To save her honour, therefore, some time before the
ratification of the treaty, she sent privately for the Gia¬
ga, and acquainted him with the demand of the Portu¬
guese *, tfelling him, at the same time, that though she
doubted not of the viceroy’s keeping his word, and
forgiving his offence, yet she advised him to go ont of
her dominions, and settle himself and his men in some
country distant from the Portuguese frontiers j but for¬
bade him, on pain of her highest displeasure, to com¬
mit the least outrage or hostility within their domi¬
nions.
The Giaga thanked her majesty, and seemed to ac¬
quiesce with her advice, but did not follow it. On the
contrary, he had no sooner reached his fortress, than he
set himself about fortifying it in such a manner as look¬
ed rather like defiance than defence : and, having ga¬
thered a considerable army, soon spread a general ter¬
ror around him. Of this the Portuguese failed not to
complain to the queen : who immediately marched
against him, surprised and defeated his army j and he
himself being killed in the action, his head was cut off Angola,
and sent to the Portuguese. u—j
This was among the last memorable actions perform¬
ed by this famous queen ; who, now finding herself un¬
fit for the fatigues of war, contented herself (in 1658)
with dispatching an old experienced general against a
neighbouring prince who had invaded her territories.
He proved no less successful than herself, and quickly
forced the aggressor to submit to her terms. She nowEncou-
gave herself up to study the best method of propagating rages Chri-
Christianity among her subjects ; and for this purposestianityi
sent a solemn embassy to Home, to pay homage to the
Pope in her name, to request a fresh supply of mis¬
sionaries. To this letter she received an answer from
his Holiness in 1662; and it was read in the church
that same year, in the most public and solemn manner.
The day appointed was the 15th of July 5 on which she
repaired to the church at the head of a numerous reti¬
nue, and having the letter hanging about her neck in
a purse made of cloth of gold. The concourse was so
great, that the church could not contain one half of the
people, so that none were admitted but persons of rank.
The father having finished the mass, read the letter at
the altar in the Portuguese language ; and the secretary
interpreted it in that of the country. The queen, who
had stood all the wdiile it was reading, went towards
the altar, and on her knees received it from the fa¬
ther ) and having kissed it, and sworn afresh upon the
gospel to continue in obedience to the church of Home,
kissed the letter again, put it into the purse, and re-Ccremonie
turned to the palace amidst the shouts and acclamations at receiv-
of many thousands of her subjects. On that day
gave a magnificent treat to the Portuguese resident, and^ p0pe
to all her court, in two great porticos, and she herself
vouchsafed to eat after the European manner j that is,
sitting on a stately elbow chair, with a high table be¬
fore her, covered with the finest linen, and with dishes,
plates, knives, and forks, all of silver gilt. She be¬
stowed some largesses upon her chief officers, released
a good number of slaves, and at night appeared at the
head of her ladies of honour, both she and they dressed
in the Amazonian manner. They performed a kind of
combat, in which the queen, though upwards of eighty
years of age, behaved with all the vigour and activity
of a woman of thirty. ^
Her life, however, was not lengthened in proportion Zingha
to her vigour and activity ; for in the month of Septem-dies.
her she was seized with an inflammation in her throat j
which, in December, having seized her breast and lungs,
she expired on the 17th of that month, and was succeed¬
ed by her sister Barbara.
The deceased queen was buried with extraordinary Succeeded
pomp 5 and out of regard to her, Barbara was inau- by ter sis
gurated a second and third time, with the greatest
pomp, and the most joyful acclamations. She was a
very zealous Christian, but wanted her sister’s abilities,
and had the misfortune of being in the decline of life,
lame, and almost blind. Besides this, she had been
married to a proud ill-natured husband, named Mona ^
Zingha: who, though to her he owed all his fortune oUeity 0j
and advancement, being himself no more than the sonberhus-
of a slave, used her with such cruelty, even in the late band JVIci
queen’s life, that she was obliged to take refuge in thej^”1*’ a lc
palace, from whence he had the insolence immediately
to
A N G
[ 359 ]
A IS! G
Angola.
57
53
Who re¬
primands
the queen.
to fetch her. This so exasperated Queen Zingha, that
' she had well nigh ordered him to be cut in pieces be¬
fore her face ; but pardoned him at the request of Fa¬
ther Anthony, who probably knew he was privy to
some religious secrets, which he might, in case of such
emergency, have disclosed. On Barbara’s accession to
the throne, however, he not only redoubled his cruelty
to her, in hopes of getting the management of affairs
entirely into his own hands, but invented accusations
against Anthony himself, with a design to extirpate
He accuses arH^ relig‘on' He gave out that the late
Father An- queen had been poisoned by some favourite European
thony: dishes, with which Brother Ignatio used to regale her
during her last illness; and attributed his wife’s lame¬
ness and blindness to some sorceries or charms used by
the convent against her. He had even persuaded, or
rather forced, his queen to consent that some of the sing-
hillos or priests should be brought to counter-charm her
distemper.
Father Anthony, far from being intimidated at the
accusations brought against him, repaired immediately
to the palace ; where he boldly reprimanded the queen
for giving ear to these jugglers, threatening at the same
time to leave her dominions, and carry off with him all
the crosses and other religious utensils, from which
alone they could have any benefit. The queen return¬
ed a very submissive answer ; and promised to deliver
up the counter-charms which she at that time had upon
her, before sunset; which she accordingly did, and sent
them to the convent by the hands of her secretary. This
so exasperated her husband, and all the Giagan sect,
that they resolved upon the destruction of all the priests
and Europeans, and even the queen herself. This,
however, was found improper to be attempted ; and
Mona Zingha was so much chagrined at his disappoint¬
ment, that he retired to his own estate; giving out,
that he designed to meddle no more with state affairs ;
but, in reality, to concert measures for engrossing the
sovereignty to himself, and to deprive his wife of her
life and crown.
To accomplish his purpose, he sent a messenger to
her, desiring her to repair to his house, where he had
something of importance to communicate ; but she de¬
clining the invitation by the advice of Father Anthony,
he found himself disappointed, and begged leave to
retire to a neighbouring province, which was under
his government. He was again disappointed, and
forbid to stir out of the province of Metamba. The
queen was, however, guilty of an error not long after,
in sending Mona Zingha, at the head of an army, to
quell a revolt on the frontiers. On his returning vic-
gha revives torious, he thought himself strong enough to revive the
*itgs^a£an ancient Giagan rites, and therefore ordered 100 slaves
to be sacrificed to the manes of the deceased queen.
Though the queen was immediately apprised of his in¬
tention, and dispatched a messenger expressly command¬
ing him to desist; yet Mona, by distributing some pre¬
sents, particularly some European wines, among the
counsellors, effected his purpose with impunity. He did
not forget to send some of this wine to Father Anthony ;
song jfatiier but to prevent suspicion, presented him only with a small
Anthony, quantity, to be used, as he said, at the mass ; adding,
that if it proved agreeable, he would supply him with
a larger quantity. The unsuspecting priest drank
about two glasses of it; and in about a quarter of an
, 59
Mona Zin
60
and poi-
hour was seized with violent convulsions in his bowels, Angola,
and other symptoms of being poisoned. By proper y-—
assistance, however, he recovered : yet so far was he
disabled by this dose, that he was obliged to abandon
his mission. gj
The queen’s infirmities in the mean time daily in-The queen
creasing, Mona Zingha W'as soon delivered from all fur- dies,
ther opposition on her part, by her death, which hap¬
pened on the 24th of March 1666. Upon this, Mona
Zingha made all possible haste to get himself elected
king; and immediately renounced the Christian reli¬
gion, raising a persecution at the same time against its
professors. He even wrote to the Portuguese viceroy,
acquainting him with his having renounced Christianity,
which he had only embraced out of complaisance to his
queen, and with his design to revive the Giagan rites. <52
To shew that he meant to be as good as his word, he Cruelties of
ordered all the children under six years of age, that ^ona
could be found, to be sacrificed in honour of their in-“ a‘
fernal deities. He also recalled the singhillos, and
heaped many favours upon them ; so that they became
entirely devoted to his purposes. He likewise caused
many of his subjects to be privately poisoned; and then
gave out, that their unaccountable deaths were owing to
their having abandoned the religion of their ancestors,
and embraced Christianity ; which he styled the religion
of a parcel of famished strangers, who, through their
extreme misery, had been forced to leave their native
country, and seek for a livelihood in the richest provin¬
ces of Africa.
By these and such like stratagems he almost entirely
extirpated Christianity, and any appearances of civili¬
zation which had been introduced among his subjects.
His career, however, was stopped by Don John the
princess Barbara’s first husband, from whom she had
been divorced on account of his having another wdfe.
He soon compelled the usurper to fly into an island in
the Coanza; but not having the precaution to reduce
him entirely, Mona Zingha found means to retrieve his
affairs, and at last defeated and killed Don John him¬
self, by which he became master of the throne without
any further opposition. He w’as no sooner re-establish¬
ed, than he began to pursue his butcheries with more
fury than ever; when, on a sudden, Don Francisco, the
son of Don John, appeared at the head of an army in g.
opposition to the usurper; and in the first engagement He is de-
Mona Zingha being defeated and killed, Don Francisco an<^
became sole master of the empire.
It is not known whether this prince kept to the
terms of the alliance made by Queen Zingha with the
Portuguese or not. These, however, have preserved
their conquests, and for some time they allowed the
natives to choose a king for themselves, or rather they 64
chose him for them, as we have already noticed. ^ese
kings enjoyed only a mere shadow of royalty; ^,e,:rset Up by^*
whole grandeur consisting in being allowed to breed tiie p01v
peacocks, and adorn themselves with their feathers,gnese.
which was forbidden to their subjects under pain of
perpetual slavery. The last of these kings was named
Ngola Sedesio, who disliking an empty name of roy¬
alty, revolted from the Portuguese, and carried on a
long war with them ; but being at last defeated and
killed, his head was cut off, salted, and sent to Lisbon
in pickle. After this the Portuguese seem not to have
thought it safe to trust their Angolic subjects even with
the
Angola,
Angon.
. .65
Division
into pro¬
vinces.
66
Rivers.
A N G [ j
the name of a king of their own, but have vested the
power entirely in their viceroy ; but, as to the extent
J of his dominions, and how matters stand between him
and that race of Angolic princes who have preserved
their liberty, we are entirely in the dark.
When in its greatest splendour, the kingdom of An¬
gola contained the 17 following provinces : Chessama,
Sumbi, Benguela, Rimba, Sietta, High and Low Bem-
bea, Temba, Oacco, Cabezzo, Lubolo, Loanda, Ben-
go, Danda, Mosicbe, Higher and Lower Ilamba, Oraij,
and Embacca. The provinces conquered by the Portu¬
guese during the wars above mentioned were, Danda,
Mosiche, Bengo, the Higher and Lower Ilamba, Oraij,
Embacca, Benguela, Sietta, Cabezzo, Lubolo, and
Oacco.
The principal rivers are those already mentioned,
viz. the Danda and Coanza. The Coanza is large,
deep, and rapid. It empties itself into the Atlantic
ocean about latitude 9* 20' south, twelve leagues south
of Loanda the capital of the kingdom. It is navigable
for 150 miles, and abounds with variety of fish. It
forms several islands, has some cataracts, and one in
particular which bears its name. As for its source,
and the length of ground it crosses from east to west
before it comes to the Portuguese settlements, it is ab¬
solutely unknown, as well as the countries through
which it runs. Its mouth, which runs between the
capes Palmerino and Lego, is above a league wide j the
northern shore is the deepest, and along which the
vessels sail. The fall of this river into the ocean is so
rapid, that the sea appears quite muddy for two or
three leagues below it. Its mouth is not easily per¬
ceived from the open sea, by reason of an island quite
covered with high trees which lies just before it. The
two principal islands formed by this river are called
Massander and Motchiamia. The one is six leagues
long, and about two miles broad : it is very fertile in
maize, millet, and some other grains, which are reaped
at three different seasons of the year. It produces like¬
wise vast quantities of manhioc, a root of which they
make a coarse kind of meal, which serves instead of
bread. Here also grow great numbers of palm and
other fruit trees of various kinds. The island of Mot¬
chiamia is four or five miles long, and one in breadth,
mostly plain, and producing variety of roots and herbs.
It likewise abounds in cattle 5 and there were formerly
■five or six Portuguese families settled upon it, who
drove a considerable trade in those commodities, and
likewise in slaves.
Concerning the river Danda we know little or no¬
thing: only, that though its mouth is not above 70 or
80 miles distant from that of the Coanza, yet their di¬
stance grows so considerably wider as you penetrate
further into the inlands, as to be much above twice if
not thrice that space j though how much, is not exactly
known.
The manners, religion, and dress, &c. of the inha¬
bitants, are much the same with the Congoese. See
Congo.
Angola Pea, or Pigeon pea. See Cytisus, Bo¬
tany Index.
ANGON, in the ancient military art, a kind of ja¬
velin used by the French. They darted it at a consi¬
derable distance. The iron head of this weapon resem¬
bled a fleur-de-luce. It is the opinion of some writ-
60 ] AN G
ers, that the arms of France are not fleurs-de-luce, but
the iron point of the angon or javelin of the ancient
French.
ANGOR, among ancient physicians, a concentration
of the natural heat: the consequence of which is a pain
of the head, palpitation, and sadness.
ANGOT, a province or kingdom of Abyssinia, for¬
merly rich and fertile, but almost ruined by the Gallas,
a wandering nation in the internal parts of Africa, who
dispossessed the Abyssinian monarchs of all that was
worth possessing.
ANGOULESME, a city of France, the capital of
the former duchy of Angoumois, now the department of
Charente, and the see of a bishop. It is seated on the
top of a hill, surrounded with rocks, at the foot of which
runs the river Cbarente. The inhabitants are said to
be about 8000, and have a considerable trade in paper,
which they manufacture. E. Long. o. 14. N. Lat.
45- 39-
ANGOUMOIS, formerly a province of France, now
a district, bounded on the north by Poitou, on the east
by Limosin and Marche, on the south by Perigord, and
on the west by Saintonge. Through this province run
the rivers Touvre and Charente. This last is full of ex¬
cellent fish j and though it often overflows its banks, it
is so far from doing any damage, that it greatly enrich¬
es the soil. The Touvre is full of trouts. The air is
generally warmer than at Paris, though the country is
hilly. The soil produces plenty of wheat, rye, oats,
Spanish corn, saffron, grapes, and all sorts of fruits.
Here are several iron mines, which yield a very good
sort of iron.
ANGOURA, Angora, or Angori, a city of A-
sia, in Anatolia, formerly called Ancyra, and still full
of remarkable antiquities, which are so many marks of
its ancient magnificence. It is at present one of the
best cities in Anatolia j its streets are full of pillars
and old marbles, among which are some of porphyry
and jasper. The greatest part of the pillars are smooth
and cylindrical j some are channelled spirally 5 but
the most singular are oval, with plate bands before
and behind from the top to the bottom of the pedestal.
The houses are now made of clay, which is sometimes
intermixed with fine piecps of marble. The walls of
the city are low, with very mean battlements. The
masonry of the walls is intermixed with pillars, archi¬
traves, capitals, and other ancient fragments, especial¬
ly that of the towers and gates. The castle of Ango¬
ra has a triple enclosure j and the walls are of large
pieces of white marble, and a stone much like por-
phyry.
The basha of Angora has about 30 purses income j
and there are here about 300 janizaries, under the
command of a sardar. The Turks are said to be 40,000,
the Armenians 4000 or 5000, and the Greeks 600.
The Armenians have seven churches, besides a mona¬
stery, and the Greeks two. They breed the finest
goats in the world ; and their hair, which is of a daz¬
zling white, is almost as fine as silk, and nine inches in
length : it is worked into very fine stuffs, particularly
camblet. All the inhabitants are employed in this ma¬
nufacture. Several large caravans pass through this
city to different places. E. Long. 32. 5. N. Lat. 39.
30. See Ancyra.
ANGOY, a kingdom of Loango in Africa, bound¬
ed
A N G [ 361 1 A N G
ed on the north by Cacongo, and on the south by Con¬
go j from the former of which it is separated by the
river Cabinda, and from the latter by the river Zaire.
It is but of small extent $ being only a vassal province
i>f Cacongo, till the mani or prince, who had married
a Portuguese’s daughter, was persuaded by his father-
in-law to make himself independent. This he effected
at a favourable juncture, the king of Loango having
but just before revolted from the king of Congo, and
the king of Cacongo from the new king of Loango.
The country is full of woods and thickets j and has no
towns of any note, except one called Bomangoy, situ¬
ated on the north bank of the Zaire, and not far from
its mouth. Its chief port is Cabinda, called also Ka-
benda, or Cubenda, situated on the mouth of a river of
the same name, about five leagues north of Cape Pal-
merino, on the north side of the Zaire’s mouth. The
bay is very commodious for trade, or wooding and wa¬
tering along the shore. It is flat and marshy in some
places ; but ascends gradually about three miles inland,
and then forms itself into a ridge of hills. On the as¬
cent of these is situated a town belonging to the father-
in-law of the king above mentioned, where he constant¬
ly kept a stock of wood ready cut, to sell to foreign
ships at an easy rate. From these wood piles, south¬
west along the bay, lie scattered a number of fisher¬
men’s huts, on each side a small fresh-water river which
falls into the bay; and thence all the water for ships
is brought in casks to the mouth of the river, which is
so shallow, that even at full flood it can only be enter¬
ed by a yawl carrying a cask or two. The town stands
on the round point of the bay looking to the westward ;
and the English have a factory on the south-west of the
road.
The country round the bay is mostly barren 5 owing
chiefly to the laziness of the inhabitants, which often
occasions a scarcity of provisions. The wild beasts
swarm so in the woods, that they destroy all the tame
kinds; so there are no cattle bred here but hogs. From
the woods in this country some monkeys have been
brought away which in shape and stature resembled the
human species. Civet cats abound here in great plenty,
and parrots may be bought for three or four ordinary
knives. The coasts abound so with oysters, that the
sailors quickly load their boats with them ; they being
found lying in great heaps like small rocks. The na¬
tives follow the occupation of fishing more than any
other. They fish both in the sea and in the rivers,
making use of drag nets, which have long canes fixed
at equal distances, instead of corks, to show when any
fish is caught. These nets are made of a peculiar kind
of root, which, after being beaten, may be spun like
hemp.
The dress of the inhabitants is the same with that of
the Congoese. They allow polygamy, and the best be¬
loved wife hath the command of the rest; but is no less
liable to be turned out, if she proves unfaithful. The
ladies of the blood-royal have the privilege of choosing
their husbands out of any, even the meanest rank ; and
have even the power of life and death over them ; as
likewise over their paramours, if any of them are caught
tripping: but the husbands are by no means entitled to
expect the same fidelity from their royal ladies. Wo¬
men of the lower rank are obliged, when they receive
a stranger, to admit him for a night or two into their
Vol. II. Part I. f
embraces. This obliged the missionaries, who travel¬
led through this country, to give notice of their ap¬
proach to any of their houses, that none of the female
sex might enter within their doors.—Their religion
consists chiefly in a variety of superstitious customs ;
such as powdering their public and domestic idols with
the dust of a kind of red wood, on the first day of the
moon, and paying a kind of worship to that planet.
If, on that night, it happens to shine clear and bright,
they cry out, “ Thus may I renew my life as thou
dostbut if the air is cloudy, they imagine the moon
hath lost her virtue, and pay her no respect. We do
not hear of their offering any sacrifices to their idols ;
though they commonly consult them about the success
of their enterprises, thefts, or such like. The king of
Congo still styles himself sovereign of Angoy ; but the
king of this little state pays neither tribute nor homage
to any foreign power.
ANGRA, a city of Tercera, one of the Azores; the
capital, not only of that island, but of all the rest, and
the residence of the governor. It is seated on the south
side, near the middle of the longest diameter of the
island, on the edge of the sea. The harbour is the on¬
ly tolerable one in the whole island, being equally se¬
cured against storms and the efforts of an enemy. It
is of the form of a crescent; the extremities of which
are defended by two high rocks, that run so far into
the sea as to render the entrance narrow, and easily co¬
vered by the batteries on each side. From this harbour
the town is said to derive its name, the word Angra sig¬
nifying a creek, bay, or station for shipping; and this
is the only convenient one among all the Azores. The
opening of the port is from the east to the south-west;
and, according to Frezier, it is not above four cables
length in breadth, and not two of good bottom. Here
ships may ride in great safety during the summer ; but
as soon as the winter begins, the storms are so furious,
that the only safety for shipping is the putting to sea
with all possible expedition. Happily, however, these
storms are preceded by infallible signs, with which ex¬
perience has made the inhabitants perfectly well ac¬
quainted. On these occasions the Pico, a high moun¬
tain in another of the Azores, is overcast with thick
clouds, and grows exceedingly dark; but what they
look upon as the most certain sign is the fluttering and
chirping of flocks of birds round the city for some days
before the storm begins.
The town is the see of a bishop, under the jurisdic¬
tion of the archbishop of Lisbon. It hath five parish¬
es, a cathedral, four monasteries, as many nunneries,
besides an inquisition and bishop’s court, which extends
its jurisdiction over all the Azores, Flores, and Corvo.
It is surrounded by a wall and a dry ditch, and is de¬
fended by a castle rendered famous by the imprison¬
ment of King Alphonso by his brother Peter in 1668.
Of late the fortifications have been much neglect¬
ed. Though most of the public and private build¬
ings have a good appearance externally, they are but
indifferently furnished within; but for this poverty the
Portuguese excuse themselves, by saying, that too much
furniture would prove inconvenient in so warm a cli¬
mate.
At Angra are kept the royal magazines for anchors,
cables, sails, and other stores for the royal navy, or oc¬
casionally for merchantmen in great distress. All ma-
Z z „ ritime
A N G [ 3^2 ] A N G
Ancrrivarii l itime affairs are under the inspection of an officer call-
11 ed Desembergrador, who hath subordinate officers and
Anguinum pilots for conducting ships into the harbour, or to pro-
*' v per watering places. The English, French, and Dutch,
have each a consul residing here, though the commerce
of any of these nations with the Azores is very incon¬
siderable.
ANGMVARII, (Tacitus) : a people of Germany
situated between the Weser and the Ems, and eastward
reaching beyond the Weser, as far as the Cherusci, on
which side they raised a rampart (Tacitus) $ to the
south, having the Tubantes on the Ems, and on the
Weser where it bends to the forest Bacemis $ to the
west, the Ems and the confines of the Bructeri 5 and
to the north, the territory of the Angrivarii lay be¬
tween the Chamavi and Ansibarii. Ptolemy places
them between the Cauchi and Suevi or Catti. Sup¬
posed now to contain a part of the county of Schaum¬
burg, the half of the bishopric or principality of Min-
den to the south, the greatest part of the bishopric of
Osnaburg, the north part of the country of Teclenburg,
and a part of the county of Ravensburg. A trace of
the name of the people still remains in the appellation
Energn, a small town in the county of Ravensburg.
ANGUILLA, one of the West India or Caribbee
islands, lying in about 18® 15'N. Lat. It has its name
from its snake-like form 5 and is about ten leagues in>
length and three in breadth. It was first discovered by
the English in 1650, when it was filled with alligators
and other noxious animals j but they, finding the soil
fruitful, and proper for raising tobacco and corn, settled
a colony on it, and imported live cattle, which have
since multiplied exceedingly. But the colony not being
settled under any public encouragement, each planter
laboured for himself, and the island became a prey to
every rapacious invader, which disheartened the inhabi¬
tants so much, that all industry was lost among them.
Their chief sufferings were from a party of wild Irish,
who landed here after the Revolution, and treated them
worse than any of the French pirates who had attacked
them before. The people of Barbadoes, and other En¬
glish Caribbees, knowing the value of the soil, several
of them removed to Anguilla, where they remained for
many years, and even carried on a profitable trade,
though without any government either civil or eccle¬
siastical. In 1745, their militia, though not exceeding
100 men, defended a breastwork against 1000 French
who came to attack them $ and at last obliged them to
retire with the loss of 150 men, besides carrying oft*
some of their arms and colours as trophies of their vic¬
tory. Since that time the inhabitants have subsisted
mostly by farming; though they still plant sugar, and
the island is said to be capable of great improvements.
ANGUILLIF ORM, an appellation given by zoo¬
logists, not only to the different species of eels, but to
other animals resembling them in shape.
ANGUINA. See Tricosanthes,
ANGUINUM ovum, a fabulous kind of egg, said
to be produced by the saliva of a cluster of serpents,
and possessed of certain magical virtues. The super¬
stition in respect to these was very prevalent among the
ancient Britons, and there still remains a strong tradi-
*sLib.xix.3.tion of it in Wales. The account Pliny * gives of it
is as follows : Prseterea est ovorum genus in^magna
“ Galliarum fama, omissum Grsecis. Angues innume-
3
‘ ri aestate convoluti, salivis faucium corporumque spu- Anguimim
‘ mis artifici complexu glomerantur j anguinum appel- ij
‘ latur. Druidae sibilis id dicunt in sublime jactari,, Anhalt.
‘ sagoque oportere intercipi, ne tellurem attingat j
‘ profugere raptorem equo : serpentes enim insequi,
‘ donee arceantur amnis alicujus interventu.”—Of
which the following may serve as a translation : from
Mason's Caractacus ; the person speaking, a Druid.)
But tell me yet
From the grot of charms and spells,
Where our matron sister dwells,
Brennus, has thy holy hand
Safely brought the Druid wand,
And the potent Adder-stone,
Gender’d ’fore th’ autumnal moon?
When, in undulating twine.
The foaming snakes prolific join ;
When they hiss, and when they bear
Their wond’rous egg aloof in air :
Thence before to earth it fall,
The Druid in his hallow’d pall
Receives the prize,
And instant flies,
Follow’d by th’ envenom’d brood,
’Till he cross the crystal flood.
This wondrous egg seems to be nothing more than
a bead of glass, used by the Druids as a charm to im¬
pose on the vulgar, whom they taught to believe, that
the possessor would be fortunate in all his attempts, and
that it would gain the favour of the great.
Our modern Druidesses (says Mr Pennant, from
whom we extract) give much the same account of the
ovum anguinum, glain naidr, as the Welsh call it, or
the adder gem, as the Roman philosopher does 5 but
seem not to have so exalted an opinion of its powers,
using it only to assist children in cutting their teeth, or
to cure the chincough, or to drive away an ague.
These beads are of a very rich blue colour 5 some
plain, others streaked. For their figure, see Plate
XXXVI. fig. 22. N° 1, 2, 3.
ANGUIS, or Snake, in Zoology, a genus belong¬
ing to the order of amphibia serpentes. See Ophio-
logy Index.
ANGURIA, the Water Melon. See Botany
Index.
ANGUS, a district of the county of Forfar in
Scotland. It was an earldom belonging to the Dou¬
glasses, now extinct.
ANGUSTICLAVIA, in Roman antiquity, a tu¬
nica embroidered with little purple studs. It was worn
by the Roman knights, as the laticlavia was by the
senators.
ANHALT, a principality of Germany, in the cir¬
cle of Upper Saxony, is a long narrow tract, situated
for the most part betwixt the rivers Elbe and Saal,
about 90 miles in length from east to west, but of un¬
equal breadth, the greatest being on the east side,
which is but 35 miles. The house of Anhalt, from
whence the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg are
said to derive their original, is a very ancient and ho¬
nourable family. The best genealogists deduce their
origin from Berenthobaldus, who made war upon the
Thuringians in the sixth century: it has produced ma¬
ny princes who make a great figure in the German hi¬
story. .
A N J
[ 363 3 A N I
Anlialt story* Joachim Ernest, who died in 1586, left five
U sons, who divided the principality among them. All
Anjengo. of them having children, and being of equal authority,
they unanimously agreed to submit to the eldest of the
family, who has the supreme government, which is
Anhalt Dessau. The others are, Anhalt Bernburg,
Anhalt Schaumburg, AnhaltCoethen, AnhaltZerbst.
The last house became extinct in 1793* Tli® three houses
of Dessau, Bernburg, and Coethen, have votes in the
new German diet, established in 1814. The popula¬
tion of all the principalities in 1815, was 123,000 $ the
revenue about 113,000!. sterling. The tax on lands is
four per cent, which, rating them at 20 years purchase,
is not quite one shilling in the pound. Upon an emer¬
gency the subjects are able to raise half a million dol¬
lars extraordinary. The towns in these little states are
not so numerous in proportion to the extent of country
as in Saxony, but better peopled. It is bounded on the
south by the county of Mansfeld, on the west by the
duchy of Halberstadt, on the east by the duchy of
Saxony, and on the north by the duchy of Magdeburg.
It abounds in corn, and is watered by the Sadie and
Mulda; its principal trade is in beer.
ANHELATIO, or Anhelitus, among physicians,
a shortness of breath.
ANHINGA. See Ornithology Index.
ANHOLT, an island of Denmark, in North Jut¬
land, lying in the Categat, eight miles from the coast
of Jutland, ten from Zealand, and seven from Holland.
It is dangerous for seamen, for which reason there is a
lighthouse.
ANIAN, a name sometimes given to the strait ly¬
ing between the north-east of Asia and the north-west
of America.
Anian is also the name of a barren sandy desert ly¬
ing on the east coast of Africa. It is so excessively hot
and otherwise inhospitable, that it contains but very
few inhabitants, except some wandering Arabs who live
in camps.
ANIELLO, or Massaniello. See History of
Naples.
ANJENGO, a small town and factory, with a fort,
on the coast of Malabar, in the peninsula on this side
the Ganges, belonging to the East India Company.
The fort is small, but neat and strong ; it is a square
with four bastions, having eight guns mounted on each,
carrying a ball of 18 pounds. Two of these bastions
face the sea, the other two the country. Besides these,
there is a line of 18 or 20 guns pointing towards the
sea, of 18 and 24-pounders. About a pistol shot from
the back of the fort runs a river, which, besides being
a security to the factory, adds much to the agreeable
situation of the place. This river has its source in some
distant mountains $ and, descending in a course from
the north and east, it afterwards turns in several plea¬
sing meanders so far to the west as to wash the bottom
of our factory’s garden, and at last winding to the
south, it empties itself into the sea. Several beautiful
small islands too, which are washed by its current, di¬
versify the scenery, and greatly heighten the beauty
of the prospect. This settlement supplies our East In¬
dia Company with pepper ; and its situation is also very
convenient for giving proper intelligence to our ships
touching here from Europe, or from any part of India.
E. Long. 76. I. N. Lat. 7. o.
ANIL, in Botany, a synonyme of a species of indi-
gofera. See Indigofera, Botany Index.
ANIMA, among divines and naturalists, denotes
the soul or principle of life, in animals. See Soul.
Anima, among chemists, denotes the volatile or spi¬
rituous parts of bodies.
Anima Hepatis, is a name by which some call sal
mortis, or salt of iron, on account of its supposed ef¬
ficacy in diseases of the liver.
Anima Mundi, a certain pure ethereal substance or
spirit, diffused, according to many of the ancient phi¬
losophers, through the mass of the world, informing,
actuating, and uniting the divers parts thereof into
one great, perfect, organical, and vital body or ani¬
mal. Plato treats at large of the tx xcrpx, in
his Timceus ; and is even supposed to be the author of
the dogma; yet are interpreters much at a loss about
his meaning. Aristotle, however, taking it in the
common and obvious sense, strenuously opposes it. The
modern Platonists explain their master’s anima mundi
by a certain universal ethereal spirit, which in the hea¬
vens exists perfectly pure, as retaining its proper na¬
ture j but on earth pervading elementary bodies, and
intimately mixing with all the minute atoms thereof, it
assumes somewhat of their nature, and becomes of a pe¬
culiar kind.—So the poet :
Spiritus intus alit, totosque infusa per artus
Mens agitat molem ; et magno se corpore miscet.
They add, that this anima mundi, which more imme¬
diately resides in the celestial regions as its proper seat,
moves and governs the heavens in such a manner, as
that the heavens themselves first received their exist¬
ence from the fecundity of the same spirit: for that
this anima, in being the primary source of life, every¬
where breathed a spirit like itself, by virtue whereof
various kinds of things were framed conformable to
the divine ideas.
Anima Saturni, a white powder obtained by pour¬
ing distilled vinegar on litharge j of considerable use in
enamelling. See Enamel.
ANIMADVERSION, in matters of literature, is
used to signify, sometimes correction, sometimes re¬
marks upon a book, &c. and sometimes a serious con¬
sideration upon any point.
ANIMAL, in Natural History, an organized and
living body, which is also endowed with sensation ;
thus, minerals are said to grow or increase, plants
to grow and live, but animals alone to have sensa¬
tion.
It is this property of sensation alone that can be
deemed the essential characteristic of an animal 5 and
by which the animal and vegetable kingdoms seem to
be so essentially separated, that we cannot even ima¬
gine the least approximation of the one to the other.
Those naturalists, indeed, who have supposed the di¬
stinction between animals and vegetables to consist in
any thing else than what we have already mentioned,
have found themselves greatly embarrassed ; and have
generally agreed, that it was extremely difficult, if not
impossible, to settle the boundaries between the animal
and vegetable kingdoms. But this difficulty Will be
easily seen to arise from their taking the characteristic
marks of the animal kingdom from something that
was evidently common to both. rl hus Boerhaave at-
Z z 2 tempted
Anil
11
Animal.
A N I ' [ 364 ] A N I
Animal, tempted to distinguish an animal from a vegetable, by
the former having a mouth, which the latter has not:
but here, as the mouth of an animal is only the instru¬
ment by which nourishment is conveyed to its body, it
is evident that this can be no essential distinction, be¬
cause vegetables also require nourishment, and have in¬
struments proper for conveying it into their bodies ;
and where the end is the same, a difference in the means
can never be essential. The fixing the difference in an
animal’s having a gula, stomach, and intestines, as is
done by Dr Tyson, is as little to the purpose.
The power of moving from one place to another,
hath by many been thought to constitute their differ¬
ence ; and indeed, in most cases, it is the obvious mark
by which we distinguish an animal from a vegetable :
but Lord Karnes hath given several very curious in¬
stances of the locomotive power of plants j some of
which, as he says, would do honour to an animal.—
“ Upon the slightest touch, the sensitive plant shrinks
back and folds up its leaves, similar to a snail $ which
on the slightest touch retires within its shell. A new
species of the sensitive plant hath been lately discover¬
ed. See Dionaia. If a fly perch upon one of its
flower leaves, it closes instantly, and crushes the insect
to death. There is not an article in botany more ad¬
mirable than a contrivance, visible in many plants, to
take advantage of good weather, and to protect them¬
selves against bad. They open and close their flowers
and leaves in different circumstances } some close be¬
fore sunset, some after 5 some open to receive rain,
sortie close to avoid it. The petals of many flowers
expand in the sun ; but contract at night, or on the
approach of rain. After the seeds are fecundated, the
petals no longer contract. All the trefoils may serve
as a barometer to the husbandman } they always con¬
tract their leaves on an impending storm. Some plants
follow the sun, others turn from it. Many plants,
on the sun’s recess, vary the position of their leaves,
^ ^1 Sf^eS which is styled the sleep of plants. A singular plant *
dysarum. 'vas iate'y discovered in Bengal. Its leaves are in con¬
tinual motion all day long} but when night approaches,
they fall down from an erect posture to rest.
A plant has a power of directing its roots for pro¬
curing food. The red whortleberry, a low evergreen
plant, grows naturally on the tops of our highest hills,
among stones and gravel. This shrub was planted in
an edging to a rich border, under a fruit wall. In two
or three years, it overran the adjoining deep-laid gra¬
vel walk j and seemed to fly from the border, in which
not a single runner appeared. An effort to come at
food in a bad situation, is extremely remarkable in the
following instance : Among the ruins of Newabbey,
formerly a monastery in Galloway, there grows on the
top of a wall a plane tree about 20 feet high. Strait¬
ened for nourishment in that barren situation, it seve¬
ral years ago directed roots down the side of the wall,
till they reached the ground ten feet below } and now
the nourishment it afforded to those roots during the
time of their descending is amply repaid, having every
year since that time made vigorous shoots. From the
top of the wall to the surface of the earth, these roots
have not thrown out a single fibre } but are now united
in a single root.
“ Plants, when forced from their natural position,
are endowed with a power to. restore themselves, A
2
hop plant, twisting round a stick, directs its course Animal,
from south to wrest, as the sun does. Untwist it, and —v-”"-
tie it in the opposite direction} it dies. Leave it loose
in the wrong direction : it recovers its natui’al direc¬
tion in a single night. Twist a branch of a tree so as
to invert its leaves, and fix it in that position : if left
in any degree loose, it untwists itself gradually, till the
leaves be restored to their natural position. What bet¬
ter can an animal do for its welfare ? A root of a tree,
meeting with a ditch in its progress, is laid open to the
air. What follows ? It alters its course like a rational
being, dips into the ground, surrounds the ditch, rises
on the opposite side to its wonted distance from the sur¬
face, and then proceeds in its original direction. Lay
a wet sponge near a root laid open to the air} the root
will direct its course to the sponge. Change the place
of the sponge : the root varies its direction. Thrust a
pole into the ground at a moderate distance from a
scandept plant: the plant directs its course to the pole,
lays hold of it, and rises on it to its natural height. A
honeysuckle proceeds in its course, till ft be too long
for supporting its weight} and then strengthens itself
by shooting into a spiral. If it meet with another plant
of the same kind, they coalesce for mutual support} the
one screwing to the right, the other to the left. If a
honeysuckle twig meets with a dead branch, it screws
from the right to the left. The claspers of briony shoot
into a spiral, and lay hold of whatever comes in their
way for support. If, after completing a spiral of three
rounds, they meet with nothing, they try again by al¬
tering their course.”  
By comparing these and other instances of seemiug
voluntary motion in plants, with that share of life
wherewith some of the inferior kinds of animals are
endowed, we can scarce hesitate at ascribing the su¬
periority to the former ; that is, putting sensation out
of the question. Mussels, for instance, are fixed to
one place as much as plants are } nor have they any
power of motion, besides that of opening and shutting
their shells : and in this respect they have no superio¬
rity over the motion of the sensitive plant} nor doth
their action discover more sagacity, or even so much
as the roots of the plane tree mentioned by Lord
Karnes.
Mr Buffon, who seems to be desirous of confound¬
ing the animal and vegetable kingdoms, denies sensa¬
tion to be any essential distinction. “ Sensation (says
he) moi-e essentially distinguishes animals from vege¬
tables : but sensation is a complex idea, and requires
some explication. For if sensation implied no more.
than motion consequent upon a stroke or an impulse,-4.
the sensitive plant enjoys this power. But if, by sen¬
sation, w'e mean the faculty of perceiving and compar¬
ing ideas, it is uncertain whether brute animals are
endowed with it. If it should be allowed to dogs, ele-^.
phants, &c. whose actions seem to proceed from mo¬
tives similar to those by which men are actuated, it>
must be denied to many species of animals, particularly,
to those which appear not to possess the faculty of pro-.
gressive motion. If the sensation of an oyster, for ex-!,
ample, differed only in degree from that of a dog }
why do we not ascribe the same sensation to vegetables,
though in a degree still inferior ? This distinction,,
therefore, between tire animal and vegetable, is neither
sufficiently general, nor determined*
“ From
A N X [ 365 ] A N X
Animal. “ From this investigation we are led to conclude, that
—-v-——' there is no absolute and essential distinction between the
animal and vegetable kingdoms 5 but that nature pro¬
ceeds, by imperceptible degrees, from the most perfect
to the most imperfect animal, and from that to the ve¬
getables *, and the fresh water polypus may be regarded
as the last of animals and the first of plants.”
It were to be wished, that philosophers would on
some occasions consider, that a subject may be dark as
well on account of their inability to see, as when it
really affords no light. Our author boldly concludes,
that there is no essential difference between a plant
and an animal, because we ascribe sensation to an oy¬
ster, and none to the sensitive plant $ but we ought to
remember, that though we cannot perceive a distinc¬
tion, it may nevertheless exist. Before Mr Buffon,
therefore, had concluded in this manner, he ought to
have proved that some vegetables were endowed with
sensation.
It is no doubt, however, as much incumbent on
those who take the contrary side of the question, to
prove that vegetables are not endowed with sensation,
as it was incumbent on Mr Bufton to have proved that
they are. But a little attention will show us, that the
difficulty here proceeds entirely from our inability to
see the principle of sensation. We perceive this prin¬
ciple in ourselves, but no man can perceive it in an¬
other. Why then does every individual of mankind
conclude that his neighbour has the same sensations
with himself? It can only be from analogy. Every
man perceives his neighbour formed in a manner simi¬
lar to himself; he acts in a similar manner on similar
occasions, &c. Just so it is with brute animals. It
is no more doubtful that they have sensations, than
that we have them ourselves.. If a man is wounded,
with a knife, for instance, he expresses a sense of pain,
and endeavours to avoid a repetition of the injury.
Wound a dog in the same manner, he will also ex¬
press a sense of pain ; and, if you offer to strike him
again, will endeavour to escape, before he feels the
stroke. To conclude here, that the action of the dog
proceeded from a principle different from that of the
man, would be absurd and unphilosophical to the last
degree.
VVe must further take notice, that there are sensa¬
tions essentially distinct from one another; and in
proportion as an animal is endowed with more or fewer
of these diffei’ent senses, it is more or less perfect
as an animal ; but, as long as one of them remains, it
makes not the least approach to the vegetable king¬
dom ; and, when they are all taken away, is so far
from becoming a vegetable, that it is only a mass
of dead matter.' The senses of a perfect animal, for
instance, are five in number. Take away one of them,
suppose sight ; he becomes then a less perfect animal,
but is as unlike a vegetable as before. Suppose him
next deprived of hearing : his resemblance to a vege¬
table would be as little as before ; because a vegetable
can neither feel, taste, nor smell, and wre suppose him
still to enjoy these three senses. Let us, lastly, sup¬
pose him endowed only with the sense of feeling, which,
however, seems to include that of taste, and he is no
more a vegetable than formerly, but only an imperfect
animal. If this sense is then taken away, we connect
biro not with the vegetable kingdom, but with what Mr.
Buffon calls brute matter. It is to this kingdom, and Animat,
not to the vegetable, that animals plainly approximate
as they descend. Indeed, to suppose an approximation
between the vegetable and animal kingdoms, is very
absurd: for, at that rate, the most imperfect animal
ought to be the most perfect plantbut we observe no
such thing. All animals, from the highest to the low¬
est, are possessed of vegetable life ; and that, as far as’
we can perceive, in an equal degree, whether the ani¬
mal life is perfect or imperfect; nor doth there seem to
be the smallest connexion between the highest degree
of vegetation and the lowest degree of sensation.
Though all animals, therefore, are possessed of vege¬
table life, these two seem to be as perfectly distinct
and incommensurate to one another as any two things-
we can possibly imagine..
The power of vegetation, for instance, is as perfect
in an onion or leek, as in a dog, an elephant, or a
man ; and yet, though you threaten a leek or an onioo
ever so much, it pays no regard to your words, as a
dog would do ; nor, though you wound it, does it
avoid a second stroke. It is this principle of self-pre¬
servation in all animals, which, being the most power¬
ful one in their nature, is generally taken, and with
very good reason, as the true characteristic of animal
life. This principle is undoubtedly a consequence of
sensation; and as it is never observed to take place in
vegetables, we have a right to say that the foundation
of it, namely sensation, belongs not to them. There
is no animal, which makes- any motion in consequence
of external impulse where danger is threatened, but
what puts itself in a posture of defence ; but no vege¬
table whatsoever does so. A muscle, when it is touch¬
ed, immediately shuts its shell; and as this action puts,
it in a state of defence, we conclude that it proceeded
from the principle of self-preservation. When the sen¬
sitive plant contracts from a touch, it is no more in a
state of defence than before ; for whatever would have
destroyed it in its expanded state, will also do it in its
contracted state. We conclude, therefore, that the
motion of the sensitive plant proceeds only from a cer¬
tain property called by physicians irritability; and
which, though our bodies possess it in an eminent de¬
gree, is a characteristic neither of animal nor vegetable
life, but belongs to us in common with brute matter. It
is certain that an electrified silk thread shows a much
greater variety of motions than any sensitive plant. If
a bit of silk thread is dropt on an electrified metal
plate, it immediately erects itself; spreads out the
small fibres like arms ; and, if not detained, will fly
off. If a finger is brought near it, the thread seems
greedily to catch at it. If a candle approaches, it
clasps close to the plate, as if afraid of it.-—Why do
we not conclude that the thread in this case is really
afraid of the candle P- lor this plain reason, I hat its
seeming flight is not to get away from the candle, but
to get towards the electrified metal; and, if allowed
to remain there, will suffer itself to be burnt without of¬
fering to stir.—The sensitive plant, in like manner, af¬
ter it has contracted, will suffer itself to be .cut in pieces,
without making the least effort to escape. The case is
not so with the meanest animal. A hedgehog, when
alarmed, draws its body together, and expands ito
prickles, thereby putting itself in a posture of defence.
Throw it into water; and the same principle 01 self-.
preservation, t
A N I [ 366 ] A N I
Animal, preservation prompts it to expand its body and swim.
 v—1 ■' A snail, when touched, withdraws itself into its shell j
but if a little quicklime is sprinkled upon it, so that its
shell is no longer a place of safety, it is thrown into
agonies, and endeavours to avail itself of its locomo¬
tive power in order to escape the danger. In mussels
and oysters, indeed, we cannot observe this principle
of self-preservation so strongly, as nature has deprived
them of the power of progressive motion: but, as we
observe them constantly to use the means which nature
has given them for self-preservation, we can have no
reason to think that they are destitute of that principle
upon which it is founded.
But there is no need of arguments drawn from the
inferior creation. We ourselves are possessed both of
the animal and vegetable life, and certainly must know
whether there is any connection between vegetation
and sensation, or not.—We are conscious that we exist 5
that we hear, see, &c.: but of our vegetation we are
absolutely unconscious. We feel a pleasure, for in¬
stance, in gratifying the calls of hunger and thirst;
but of the process by which our aliment is formed into
chyle, the chyle mixed with the blood, the circula¬
tion of that fluid, and the separation of all the humours
from it, we are altogether ignorant. If we then, who
are more perfect than other vegetables, are utterly
insensible of our own vegetable life, why should we
imagine that the less perfect vegetables are sensible
of it ?
To illustrate our reasoning here by an example.——
The direction of the roots of the plane tree mentioned
by Lord Karnes, shows as much sagacity, if we are to
look only to the outward action, as can be observed in
any motion of the most perfect animal whatever 5 ne¬
vertheless, we have not the least suspicion, either that
the tree saw the ground at a distance, or that it was
informed of its being there by the rest of its roots. If
a wound is made in the body of a man, and a loss of
substance is to be repaired, the same sagacity will be
observed in the arrangement of the fibres, not only as
if they were animated, but they will dispose of them¬
selves seemingly with a degree of wisdom far superior
to what we have any idea of; yet this is done without
our having the least knowledge either how it is done,
or of its being done at all. We have therefore in our¬
selves a demonstration, that vegetable life acts without
knowing what it does : and if vegetables are ignorant
of their most sagacious actions, why should we suspect
that they have a sensation, let it be ever so obscure,
of any of their inferior ones, such as contracting from
a touch, turning towards the sun, or advancing to meet
a pole.
Thus we may easily give Mr Buffon a reason why
we ascribe sensation to an oyster, and none to a vege¬
table ; namely, because we perceive the vegetable do
nothing but what is also performed in our own bodies,
without our having the least sensation of it; whereas
on oyster puts itself in a defensive posture on the ap¬
proach of danger j and this being an action similar to
our own upon a like occasion, we conclude that it
proceed? from the same principle of sensation. Here
it may also be observed, that though the inferior ani¬
mals ate deficient in the number, they are by no means
so in the acuteness of their sensations j on the contra-
ry, though a mussel or an oyster is probably endowed
with no other sense than that of feeling, yet this sense Animal,
is so exquisite, that it will contract upon the slightest y—.
touch, such as we would be altogether insensible of.
As to that power of contractility, or irritability,
which is observed in some plants j our solids have it,
when deprived both of vegetable and animal life : for
a muscle, cut out of a living body, will continue to
contract, if it is irritated by pricking it, after it has
neither sensation nor Vegetation.
A very good moral reason may also be adduced why
We do not believe vegetables to be endowed with sen¬
sation.—Had they been so, we must suppose them to
suffer pain when they are cut or destroyed j and, if so,
what an unhappy state must they be in, who have not
the least power to avoid the injuries daily offered them 1
In fact, the goodness of the Deity is very conspicuous
in not giving to vegetables the same sensations as to
animals j and, as he hath given them no means of de¬
fence, though we had not been told it by himself, we
might have known that he gave them for food for ani¬
mals j and, in this case, to have endowed them with
sensation would have been a piece of cruelty. Though
animals without number prey upon one another, yet
all of them have some means of defence j from whence
we may justly conclude, that their mutual destruction
Was not an original appointment of the Creator, but
what he foresaw would happen in a course of time, and
which he therefore gave every one of them some means
of guarding against. It may no doubt be here ob¬
jected, that the giving some means of self-defence to
every animal cannot be reckoned a sufficient proof that
it was not the original design of the Creator that they
should be destroyed, seeing these means are not always
effectual for their preservation. This objection, how¬
ever, cannot be completely obviated without a solution
of the question concerning the origin of evil among
the works of a perfectly good Being. But whatever
difficulty there may be in solving this question, it is
certain, that, as some means of self-defence is given to
every animal, it has been the original design of the
Creator, that in all cases one species of animals should
not be destroyed at the pleasux*e of any other species j
and as no means of self-defence is given to any vege¬
table, it is plain that they have been destined for a
prey to every species of animals that had access to them.
Philosophers have insisted much on the necessity of one
animal’s devouring another, that there might be room
sufficient for all j but this, so far from being a system
worthy of the divine wisdom, seems to us to be a re¬
flection upon it, as if the Author of nature could not
have found means to preserve the life of one part of his
creatures, without the destruction and misery ef the rest.
The sacred writings leave us at no loss to see how this
carnivorous disposition came in ; and, in the next world,
this piece of perfection (as the sanguinary philoso¬
phers above mentioned would have it to be) seems to
be left out j for there, it is said, “ They shall not hurt
nor destroy; the lion shall eat straw like the ox, and
there shall be no more pain.”
When speaking of the food of plants, we took occa¬
sion to mention a certain power totally different from
that of attraction or repulsion, by which the food of
a plant, after it was attracted, or otherwise brought to
it, was assimilated to its substance. This power, which
we there distinguish by the name of transnwtation, be¬
longs
A N I [ 367 ] A N I
Animal, Jongs in a more eminent degree to animals. The ali-
Animal- mentary substance is changed into two kinds of matter :
Flower. (1.) An excrementitious one, which passes off through
¥ the intestines; and (2.) A fluid, which is the direct
pabulum of the animal. Different substances, how¬
ever, are not equally changeable by this process. The
human stomach is not capable of acting upon any ani¬
mal substance till it has lost its vital principle : the
stomachs of some animals cannot act upon creatures of
their own species : some have an apparatus for grind¬
ing their food after it is swallowed, &c. and there are
no animals but what are subject to death by taking
certain substances into their stomach. Some substances
also, though they resist the action of the stomach, and
pass unchanged into the system, produce no bad ef¬
fects. Thus, madder will turn the bones of animals
red; rhubarb will communicate its purgative nature to
the milk, and its deep yellow colour to the urine.—-All
these changes, however, seem to belong to the vegeta¬
tive part of our system : for as every one of them are
performed without our knowledge of the manner how;
and not only so, but while we are absolutely uncon¬
scious of their being done ; we can have no reason to
suppose, that the animal \ih, properly so called, is at
all connected with them, any farther than as they are
at present the means of preserving the creature alive,
and making the connexion betwixt the principle of life
and this visible creation.
The description and classing of animals make a con¬
siderable part of Natural History, known by the name
of Zoology.
Animal, used adjectively, denotes any thing belong¬
ing to, or partaking of, the nature of animals. Thus,
animal actions, those that are peculiar to animals ; such
are sensation and muscular motion.
Animal-l'l0wer, in Zoology, a name given to seve¬
ral species of animals belonging to the genus Actinia
of Linnaeus. They have likewise been distinguished’
by the names of Urtica Marina, or Sea-nettle, from their
supposed property of stinging; and Sea-anemone, from
their claws or tentacles being disposed in regular cir¬
cles, and tinged with a variety of bright lively co¬
lours, resembling the petals of some of our most beau¬
tiful flowers. As to one species particularly, mention¬
ed by Abbe Dicquemarre, (Phil. Trans, for 1773,
art* 37*) th® pun^t white, carmine, and ultramarine,
are said to be scarce sufficient to express their bril¬
liancy. The bodies of some of them are hemispherical,
of others cylindrical, and of others shaped like a fig.
Their substance likewise differs : some are stiff and
gelatinous, others fleshy and muscular; but all of
them are capable of altering their figure w’hen they ex¬
tend their bodies and claw's in search of food. They
are found on many of the rocky coasts of the West In¬
dia islands, and likewise on some parts of the coast of
England.
They have only one opening, which is in the centre
of the uppermost part of the animal; round this are
placed rows of fleshy claws ; this opening is the mouth
of the animal, and is capable of great extension. The
animals themselves, though exceedingly voracious, will
bear long fasting. They may be preserved alive a
whole year, or perhaps longer, in a vessel of sea-water,
without any visible food ; but, when food is presented,
one of them will successively devour two mussels in their
shells, or even swallow a whole crab as large as a hen’s Animal-
egg. In a day or two the crab-shell is voided at the Flower,
mouth, perfectly cleared of all the meat. The mussel ' 1 *
shells are likewise discharged whole, with the two shells
joined together, but entirely empty, so that not the
least particle of fish is to be perceived on opening them.
An anemone of one species will even swallow an indi¬
vidual of another species ; but after retaining it ten or
twelve hours, will throw it up alive and uninjured.
Through this opening also it produces its young ones
alive, already furnished with little claws, which, as soon
as they fix themselves, they begin to extend in search
of food.
One of the extremities of the sea-anemone resembles,
as rve have said, the outwTard leaves of that flower;
while its limbs are not unlike the shag or inner part of
it. By the other extremity it fixes itself, as by a sucker,
to the rocks or stones lying in the sand; but it is not
totally deprived of the power of progressive motion, as
it can shift its situation, though very slowly.
A particular species of animal-flowers has been found
in some of the islands ceded to Britain at the last treaty
of peace with France ; and the following account of
them was published in the Philosophical Transactions,
vol. Ivii. by Mr Ellis, in a letter to Lord Hillsborough.
“ This compound animal, which is of a tender fleshy
substance, consists of many tubular bodies swelling gent¬
ly towards the upper part, and ending like a bulb or
very small onion : on the top of each is its mouth, sur¬
rounded by one or two rows of tentacles, or claws, which
when contracted look like circles of beads.
“ The lower part of all these bodies has a com¬
munication with a firm fleshy wrinkled tube, which
sticks fast to the rocks, and sends forth other fleshy
tubes, which creep along them in various directions.
These are full of different sizes of these remarkable
animals, which rise up irregularly in groups near to one
another.
“ This adhering tube, that secures them fast to the
rock, or shelly bottom, is worthy of our notice. The
knobs that we observe, are formed in several parts of
it by its insinuating itself into the inequalities of the
coral rock, or by grasping pieces of shells, part of
which still remain in it, with the fleshy substance grown
over them.
“ This shows us the instinct of nature, that directs
these animals to preserve themselves from the violence
of the waves, not unlike the anchoring of mussels, by
their fine silken filaments that end in suckers ; or ra¬
ther like the shelly basis of the serpula, or worm shell,
the tree oyster, and the slipper barnacle, &c. whose ba¬
ses conform to the shape of whatever substance they
fix themselves to, grasping it fast with their testaceous
claws, to withstand the fury of a storm.
“ When we view the inside of this animal dissected
lengthwise, we find like a little tube leading from the
mouth to the stomach, from whence there rise eight
wrinkled small guts, in a circular order, with a yel¬
lowish soft substance in them ; these bend over in the
form of arches towards the lower part of the bulb,
from whence they may be traced downwards, to the
narrow part of the upright tube, till they come to the
fleshy adhering tube, where some of them may be per¬
ceived entering into a papilla, or the beginning of an
animal of the like kind, most probably to convey it
nourishment-,.
A N I T 368 j " A N I
Animal- nourishment till it is provided with claws ; the re-
Fiower. maining part of these slender guts is continued on in
» the fleshy tube, without doubt, for the same purpose of
producing and supporting more young ones from the
same common parent.
“ The many longitudinal figures that we dissover
lying parallel to each other, on the inside of the semi¬
transparent skin, are all inserted in the several claws
round the animal’s mouth, and are plainly the tendons
of the muscles for moving and directing the claw's
at the will of the animal j they may be likewise traced
down to the adhering tube.
u As this specimen has been preserved in spirits, the
colour of the animal, when living, cannot be certainly
known ; it is at present of a pale yellowish brown.
“ With regard to its name, it may be called Actinia
sociata, or the Cluster Animal flower.'1'1
The Abbe Dicquemarre, by many curious though
cruel experiments, related to the Phil. Trans, for 1773,
has shown that these animals possess, in a most extra¬
ordinary degree, the power of reproduction j so that
scarce any thing more is necessary to produce as many
sea anemonies as we please, than to cut a single one in¬
to as many pieces. A sea anemone being cut in two
by a section through the body, that part, where the
limbs and mouth are placed, ate a piece of a mussel
offered to it soon after the operation, and continued to
feed and grow daily for three months after. The food
sometimes passed through the animal ; but was gene¬
rally thrown up again, considerably changed, as in the
perfect sea anemone. In about two months, two rows
of limbs were perceived growing out of the part where
the incision was made. On offering food to this new
mouth, it was laid hold of and eaten ; and the limbs
continually increasing, the animal gradually became as
perfect as those which had never been cut. In some
instances, however, he found that, when one of these
creatures was cut through, new limbs would be produ¬
ced from the cut place, those at the mouth remaining
as before : so that a monstrous animal was the conse¬
quence, having two mouths, and feeding at both
ends. Having put some of them into a pan of water,
set over a slow fire, he found that they lost their life
at 50 degrees of Reaumur’s thermometer. To avoid
the imputation of cruelty in these experiments, the
author argues the favourable consequences that have
attended his operations on the sea anemonies which
have been so fortunate as to fall into his hands ; as he
hath not only multiplied their existence, but also re¬
newed their youth ; which last, he adds, “ is surely
no small advantage.1’
In Hughes’s Natural History of Barbadoes, an ac¬
count is also given of several species of animal-flowers.
They are there described as only found in a bason in
one particular cave j and of the most remarkable species
mentioned by him we have the following description.
“ In the middle of the bason, there is a fixed stone,
or rock, which is always under water. Round its
sides, at different depths, seldom exceeding 18 inches,
are seen, at all times of the year, issuing out of little
holes, certain substances that have the appearance of
fine radiated flowers, of a pale yellow, or a bright
straw colour, slightly tinged with green, having a cir¬
cular border of thick set petals, about the size of, and
much resembling, those of a single garden marigold,
except that the whole of this seeming flower is narrow- Animal,
er at the discus, or setting-on of the leaves, than any Flower
flower of that kind. lj
“ I have attempted to pluck one of these from the
rock, to which they are always fixed j but never could . •
effect it: for as soon as my fingers came within two or
three inches of it, it would immediately contract, close
together its yellow border, and shrink back into the
hole of the rock j but if left undisturbed for about four
minutes, it would come gradually in sight, expanding,
though at first very cautiously, its seeming leaves, till
it last it appeared in its former bloom. However, it
would again recoil, with a surprising quickness when
my hand came within a small distance of it. Having
tried the same experiment by attempting to touch it
with my cane, and a small slender rod, the effect was
the same.
“ Though I could not by any means contrive to
take or pluck from the rock one of these animals en¬
tire j yet I once cut off (with a knife which I had held
for a long time out of sight, near the mouth of a hole
out of which one of these animals appeared) two of
these seeming leaves. These, when out of the water,
retained their shape and colour $ but, being composed
of a membrane-like substance, surprisingly thin, it soon
shrivelled up, and decayed.”
The reproductive power of the Barbadoes animal*
flower is prodigious. Many people coming to see
these strange creatures, and occasioning some inconve¬
nience to a person through whose grounds they were
obliged to pass, he resolved to destroy the objects of
their curiosity, and, that he might do so effectually,
caused all the holes out of which they appeared, to be
carefully bored and drilled with an iron instrument, so
that we cannot suppose but their bodies must have been
entirely crushed to a pulp : nevertheless, they again ap¬
peared in a few weeks from the very same places.
Plate XXXIV. fig. I. represents the actinia sociata,
or clustered animal-flower, described by Mr Ellis, with
its radical tube adhering to a rock : (a) One of the ani¬
mals stretching out its claws. Fig. 2. A perpendicu¬
lar dissection of one of the bodies, to show the gullet,
intestines, stomach, and fibres or tendons that move the
claws: (a) A young one arising out of the adhering
tube. Fig. 3. The actinia aster, or animal-flower of the
newly ceded islands. Fig. 4. The actinia anemone, or
sea anemone from the same place. Fig. 5. The under
part of the same by which it adheres to the rocks. Fig. 6.
The actinia helianthus, or the sea sun-flower, from ditto.
Fig. 7. The under part of the same. Fig. 8. The ac¬
tinia dianthus, or sea carnation, from the rocks at
Hastings in Sussex. This animal adheres by its tail, or
sucker, to the upper part of the projecting rocks op¬
posite to the town ; and, when the tide is out, has the
appearance of a long white fig 5 this is the form of it
when put into a glass of sea water. It is introduced
here as a new variety of this animal not yet described.
Animal Food. See Food.
Animal Oeconomy. This subject is explained under
Anatomy.
Animal Magnetism. See Magnetism.
Animal Spirit. See Nervous Fluid.
Animal System denotes the whole class of beings
endowed with animal life, otherwise called Animal
Kingdom.
Animals,
A N I
Animals,
Aninial-
cule.
Common
ma!cules>
Aximals, the preparation of, for collections or mu-
seums. See Quadrupeds, Birds, Reptiles.
Pairing of Animals. See Pairing.
ANIMALCULE, in general, signifies a little ani¬
mal $ and thus the term might be applied to every ani-
acceptation mal which is considerably inferior in size to ourselves.
oftheword.lt hath been customary, however, to distinguish by the
name of animalcules only such animals as are of a size
so diminutive, that their true figure cannot be discerned
without the assistance of glasses *, and more especially
it is applied to such as are altogether invisible to the
naked eye, and cannot even be perceived to exist but
by the assistance of microscopes.
By the help of magnifying glasses, we are brought in¬
to a kind of new w'orld; and numberless animals are dis¬
covered, which from their minuteness must otherwise for
2 ever have escaped our observation } and how many kinds
Different of these invisibles there may be, is still unknown; as they
sizes of ani-are discerned of all sizes, from those .which are barely in¬
visible to the naked eye, to such as resist the action of
the microscope, as the fixed stars do that of the teles¬
cope, and with the best magnifiers hitherto invented ap¬
pear only as so many moving points.
The smallest living creatures our instrumentscan show
are those that inhabit the waters : for though possibly
animalcules equally minute, or perhaps more so, may fly
in the air, or creep upon the earth, it is scarce possible to
bring such under our examination; but water being trans¬
parent, and confining the creatures in it, we are able,
by applying a drop of it to our glasses, to discover, to a
certain degree of smallness, all that it contains.—Some
of the most curious of these animalcules, which have
been described by microscopical observers, we shall here
give an account of,
i. The Hair-like Insect. This is so called by Mr Baker
on account of its shape j being extremely slender, and
frequently an hundred and fifty times as long as broad.
The body or middle part, which is nearly straight, ap¬
pears, in some, composed of such rings as the windpipe
of land animals is made up of; but in others seems ra¬
ther scaled, or made up of rings that obliquely cross one
another. Its two ends are hooked or bent, pretty near¬
ly in the same degree, but in a direction opposite to one
another; and as no eyes can be discerned, it is difficult
to judge which is the head or tail. Its progressive * mo¬
tion is very singular, being performed by turning upon
one end as a centre, and describing almost a quarter of
?ts extreme a c‘rc^e ^ie 0^,er> as represented in the figure. Its
smallness motions are very slow, and require much patience and
&«. attention in the observer. These creatures are so small,
that millions of millions of them might be contained in
an inch square. When viewed singly, they are exceed¬
ingly transparent, and of a beautiful green colour j but
when numbers of them are brought together, they be¬
come opaque, lose their green colour, and grow entirely
i; black.
delights in Notwithstanding the extreme minuteness of these ani-
'“cietj. malcules, they seem to be fond of society; for, after
viewing for some time a parcel of them taken up at
random, they will be seen disposing themselves in a kind
of regular ordert. If a multitude of them are put into
a jar of water, they will form themselves in a regular
body, and ascend slowly to the top, where after they
have remained for some time exposed to the air, their
green colour changes to a beautiful sky blue. When
Vol. II. Part t f
[ 369 ]
A N I
Animal¬
cule.
Hair-like
insect.
* Plate
XXXV.
Fig. 1.
1 Fig.
they are weary of this situation, they form themselves in¬
to a kind of rope, which slowly descends as low as they
intend j but if they happen to be close to the side of the '
jar, they will descend upon it. They are so nearly of
the specific gravity of water itself, that they will either
remain at the bottom, float on the surface, or be sus¬
pended in the middle, according as they are originally
placed, or as they themselves have a mind.
A small quantity of the matter containing these ani¬
malcules^; having been put into a jar of water, it so hap- ^ 3*
pened, that one part went down immediately to the bot¬
tom, whilstthe othercontinued floating on the top. When
things had remained for some time in this condition, each
of these swarms of animalcules began to grow weary
of its situation, and had a mind to change its quarters.
Both armies, therefore, set out at the same time, the
one proceeding upwards, and the other downrvards; so
that, alter some hours journey, they niet in the middle.
A desire of knowing how they would behave on this oc-<5eetlls 1)(WU
casion, engaged the observer to watch them carefully jsessed of a
and to his surprise he saw the army that was marching ccmsider-
upwards, open to the right and left, to make room forable degree
those that were descending. Thus, without confusion01 saSacitP‘
or intermixture, each held on its way : the army
that was going up, marching in two columns to the
top, and the other proceeding in one column to the bot¬
tom, as if each had been under the direction of wise
leaders.
The hair-like insect was first discovered in a ditch at
Norwich, one end of which communicates with the ri¬
ver there, and the other end with a second ditch, into 7
which several kennels empty themselves. The length of Found irt
this ditch, when Mr Baker wrote his account of thisPl0C^0US
animalcule, was at least 100 yards, and its breadth nine. <1"anUt'
'The bottom, for more than a foot thick, was covered
with a blackish green substance, in appearance like mud,
made up for the most part of these insects 5 but supposing
only a half or a quarter part of it to be composed of
them, according to the dimensions we have given, their
numbers must exceed all imagination.
2. Pels in paste, &c. When paste is allowed to stand
till it becomes sour, it is then found to be the habita¬
tion of numberless animalcules, which may be discern¬
ed by the naked eye j and though their form cannot
be perfectly distinguished, their motion is very percept¬
ible, and the whole paste will seem to be animated.
Fig. 4. represents one of these anguillae magnified. s
The most remarkable property of these insects is, that Eels in
they are viviparous. If one of them is cut through near Paste
the middle, several oval bodies of different sizes will be Pal0n3*
seen to issue forth. These are young anguillse, each of
them coiled up and enclosed in its proper membrane,
which is so exquisitely fine, as scarcely to be discernible
by the greatest magnifier, while it encloses the embryo
animal. The largest and most forward immediately
break through this covering, unfold themselves, and
wriggle about in the water nimbly j others get out, un¬
coil, and move themselves about more slowly ; and the
least mature continue entirely without motion. The
uterus, or vessel that contains all these oval bodies, is
composed of many ringlets, not unlike the aspera arte-
ria of land animals, and seems to be considerably elastic 5
for as soon as the animalcule is cut in two, the oval
bodies are thrust out with some degree of violence,
from the springing back or action of this bowel. An
3 A hundred
A N I
[ 37° 1
A N I
creatures
found in
blighted
wheat.
Animal- huat^ed and upwards of the young ones have been seen
cule. to issue from the body of one single eel, whereby the
—“'•v*’—' prodigious increase of them may be accounted for j as
probably several such numerous generations are pro¬
duced in a short time. They seem to be all prolific ;
and unless trial happens to be made upon one that has
brought forth all its young, or when the paste has been
kept for a very long time, the experiment will always
succeed.—This property of these eels being viviparous
renders it highly improbable that they ever become
flies.
Animalcules of a similar kind are likewise found in
vinegar ; and, like those already described, are found
9 to be viviparous. But it is not only in acid matters that
imilar such appearances are observed. In some fields of wheat,
many grains may be observed, that appear blackish out¬
wardly, as if scorched j but when opened are found to
contain a soft white substance, which, attentively con¬
sidered, appears to be nothing else than a congeries of
threads or fibres lying close to each other in a parallel
direction, much resembling the unripe down of some
thistles on cutting open the flower heads before they
begin to blow. This fibrous matter discovers not the
least sign of life or motion, unless water is applied j but
immediately on wetting, provided the grains of wheat
have been newly gathered, the supposed fibres separate,
and appear to be living creatures. Their motions at first
are very languid j but gradually become more vigorous,
twisting and wriggling themselves somewhat in the man¬
ner of the eels in paste, but always slower than they,
and with a great deal less regularity.
If the grains of wheat are grown dry by keeping,
and in that condition are cut open, the fibrous matter
is very distinguishable *, and, on putting water to it, will
separate with great readiness, and seem like fine tubes
or threads tapering at both ends $ but not the least mo-
tion will be perceived till they have been in water for
10 several hours, and sometimes they will never move at all.
How dis- But if the same grains are steeped in water for three or
severable. four |J0UrS) or buried for some days in the earth, till
they are fully saturated with moisture, and then open¬
ed with a penknife $ on taking out a small portion of
the white matter carefully, and spreading it thin upon
a slip of glass, the animalcules, will be seen bundled
together, and extended longitudinally, but without mo¬
tion ; and though, upon the application of water, they
will not revive so soon as those taken from fresh grains,
whose moisture lias never been exhaled ; yet, after re¬
maining an hour or two in water, they are constantly
found alive and vigorous, even though the grains have
11 been kept in a dry condition for several years. It is
Precautions necessary, however, to adapt, in some measure, the
necessary time of continuing the grains in water or earth to the
theex^'en a§e an<^ ^rfness t*iem : ^or ^ ^iey are not opened
taent.XPei ' they are too much softened, the animalcules will
be dead j and unless the husks are opened to let those
creatures out after they have been steeped, they ipe-
vitably perish in them : otherwise, they will continue
alive in water for many months ; and, should the water
dry away, may be revived again by giving them a fresh
supply.
3. TAe Proteus. This animalcule has been dignified
by Mr Baker with the name of Proteus, on account of
its assuming a great number of different shapes, so as
scarce to be known as the same animal in its various
Proteus,
why so call
ed.
transformations; and indeed, unless it be carefully Animal-
watched while passing from one shape to another, it will cule.
often becpme suddenly invisible, as happened more than -v—'
once to Mr Baker.
When water, wherein any sort of vegetable has been Where
infused, or animals preserved, has stood quietly forfound.
some days, or weeks, in any glass or other vessel, a
slimy substance will be collected about the sides : some
of which being taken up with the point of a penknife,
placed on a slip of glass in a drop of water, and looked
at through the microscope, will be found to harbour
several kinds of little animals that are seldom found
swimming about at large j among which the proteus is
one. Its shape is better understood from the figure, Its g^e
than from any description that could be given. Its colour, &c.
substance and colour seem to resemble that of a snail j
and its whole shape seems to bear a considerable resem¬
blance to that of a swan. It swims to and fro with
great vivacity j but will now and then stop for a minute
or two 5 during which time its long neck is usually em¬
ployed as far as it can reach, forwards, and on every
side, with a somewhat slow, but equable motion, like
that of a snake, frequently extending thrice the length
of its body, and seemingly in search of food.
There are no eyes, nor any opening in the bead like
a mouth to be discerned : but its actions plainly prove
it to be an animal that can see 5 for though multitudes
of different animalcules swim about in the same water,
and its own progressive motion is very swift, it never
strikes against any of them, but directs its course be¬
tween them with a dexterity wholly unaccountable,
should we suppose it destitute of sight. ^
When the proteus is alarmed, it suddenly draws initstransfor-
its long neck, represented in fig. 5. and 6. transform- mations.
ing itself into the shape represented in fig. 7. when it
becomes more opaque, and moves about very slowly
with the large end foremost. When it has continued
some time in this posture, it will often, instead of the
head and neck it bad formerly, put forth a new one,
with a kind of wheel machinery represented fig. 8.
the motions of which draw a current of water to it
from a considerable distance. Having often pulled in
and thrust out the short head, sometimes with and
sometimes without the wheel-work, the creature, as if
weary, will remain motionless for a while j then its
head and long neck will be very slowly protruded, as
in fig. 9. and it soon resumes its former agility. Some¬
times it disposes of its neck and bead, as represented in
fig. l°. ... id
4. The Wheel Animal, or Vorticella. This wonder- Vorticell*
ful animalcule is found in rain water that has stood where
some days in leaden gutters, or in hollows of lead on found*
the tops of houses ; or in the slime or sediment left by
such water j and perhaps may also be found in other
places $ but if the water standing in gutters of lead, or
the sediment left behind it, has any thing of a red co¬
lour in it, one may be almost certain of finding them
therein. Though it discovers no signs of life except
when in the water, yet it is capable of continuing alive
for many months after it is taken out of the water, and
kept in a state as dry as dust. In this state it is of a glo¬
bular shape, exceeds not the bigness of a grain of sand,
and no signs of life appear : but being put into water,
in the space of half an hour a languid motion begins,
the globule turns itself about, lengthens itself by slow
degrees,
A N I
[ 371 ]
A N I
Animal¬
cule.
Its wheel-
work de¬
scribed.
18
Shows all
the marks
of a real
rotation.
19
Shows
great
quickness
of sensa¬
tion.
degrees, assumes the form of a lively maggot, and most
commonly in a few minutes afterwards puts out its
wheels j swimming vigorously through the water, as if
in search of food j or else, fixing itself by the tail,
works the wheel in such a manner as to bring its food
to it.
Fig. 23. and 24. show the wheel animal in its glo¬
bular form $ fig. II. and 12. in its maggot state j and
fig. 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, and 22, show
the different appearances of its wheels, and also its va¬
rious intermediate changes between the globular and
maggot state.
The most remarkable part of this animalcule is its
wheel-work. This consists of a couple of semicircular
instruments, round the edges of which many little
fibrillse move themselves very briskly, sometimes with
a kind of rotation, and sometimes in a trembling or vi¬
brating manner. When in this state, it sometimes un¬
fastens its tail, and swims along with a great deal of
swiftness, seemingly in pursuit of its prey. Sometimes
the wheels seem to be entire circles, armed with small
teeth, like those of the balance wheel of a watch, ap¬
pearing projected forwards beyond the head, and ex¬
tending sidewise somewhat wider than its diameter.
The teeth or cogs of these wheels seem to stand very
regularly at equal distances : but the figure of them
varies according to their position, the degree of their
protrusion, and perhaps the will of the animal itself.
They appear sometimes like minute oblong squares, ri¬
sing at right angles from the periphery of a circle, like
ancient battlements on a round tower j at other times,
they terminate in sharp points, and altogether resemble
a kind of Gothic crown. They are often seen in a
kind of curved direction, all bending the same way, and
seeming like so many hooks ; and now and then the
ends of them will be perceived to be clubbed like mal¬
lets. This figure, however, as well as the first, they
assume but rarely.
As these wheels are everywhere excessively transpa¬
rent, except about their circular rim or edge, where
the cogs are set, it is very difficult to determine by
what contrivance they are turned about, or what their
real figui’e is, though they seem exactly to resemble
wheels moving round upon an axis. It is also hardly
possible to be certain whether those circular bodies in
which the teeth are set, are of a flat form, or hollow
and conical *, but they seem rather to be of a conical
figure. The difficulty of conceiving how an ai'ticula-
tion could be contrived so as to cause a real rotation,
hath caused many people imagine that there was a de¬
ception in this case : But Mr Baker assures us, that
when the wheels are fully protruded, they never fail to
show all the visible marks of a regular rotation j and,
in some positions, the same cogs or teeth may be traced
by the eye during a complete revolution
drop of water, compared with which the wheel-animal An'tnal-
may be said to he a whale. The transparency of its bo- eule.
dy, therefore, allows its internal parts to be seen, which v
cannot be perceived in the minutest animalcules, on ac¬
count of the smallness of their size, a, Is the appear- Fig. 15.
ance of the head 5 and though it is everywhere trans- 20
parent, a ring or circle, more particularly remarkable
for its clearness, is commonly perceived about the mid- naj parts
die of the forehead, a little above the mouth. This,
Mr Baker thinks, might justly be called the seat of the
brain. Many vessels which seem to take their origin
from thence are discernible in the head, wherein some
transparent fluid appears continually agitated by a kind
of fluctuating motion.
The thorax, 6, is joined to the head by a very short
neck, c, and appears to be about the sixth part of the
whole length of the animal. In the middle of the
thorax is placed the heart, d, where its systole and dia¬
stole are plainly visible. It is seen through the back of
the insect, shutting and opening alternately with great
regularity and exactness. Its size is proportionable to
the creature’s bigness $ and its shape, during the systole,
is nearly circular, being composed seemingly of two se¬
milunar parts, which then approach each other late¬
rally, and form between them a roundish or horse-shoe*
like figure, whose upper side is flat, and the under one
convex. The diastole is performed by a seeming se¬
paration, or opening, of these two semilunar parts*
whereby the transverse diameter of the heart is very
niuch enlarged. This separation begins exactly in the
middle of the lower part next the tail 5 and opens to
such a considerable width upwards, that the two parts,
when at their utmost distension, seem only joined by an
arched vessel at their anterior end. The alternate mo¬
tions of contraction and dilatation are performed with
great strength and vigour, in pretty much the same
time as the pulsation of the arteries of a man in health.
The motions of the heart are communicated to all the
internal parts of the thorax, and seem to extend a great
deal further j for a strict examination discovers, at the
same time, throughout the whole animal, contractions
and dilatations going on, that are apparently corre¬
spondent thereto. These motions of the heart, how¬
ever, are sometimes suspended or imperceptible for
two or three minutes : after which they are renewed,
and go on again with the same regularity as before.
From the under part of the thorax proceeds a small
transparent horn represented at o, fig. II. and 12. It
is never visible but when the animal turns on its back,
or side.
The blood or circulating fluid of the wheel-animal is
so absolutely colourless, that the current of it through
the vessel is undistinguishable by glasses. A sort of ir¬
regular agitation of some fluid is indeed perceived, which
is perhaps a compound motion of currents running dif-
iiic iiuiiiiy d GUinpicLG icvuiutiuu* r r — r . j
All the actions of this creature seem to imply saga- ferent ways, and forming such an appearance, thouglt
city and quickness of sensation. At the least touch or
motion in the water, they instantly draw in their wheels $
and Mr Baker conjectures, that their eyes are lodged
somewhere about the wheels j because, while in the
maggot state, its motions are slow and blundering ; but
after the wheels are protruded, they are performed with
great regularity, swiftness, and steadiness.
Notwithstanding the minuteness of this animalcule,
no single current is anywhere distinctly visible.
Immediately below the thorax is another annular di¬
vision, e, joining upwards to the thorax and dowm-
wards to the abdomen, the entrance whereof it serves
occasionally to enlarge or diminish. Ihe abdomen, /j
is by much the largest part of the animal, and contains
the stomach and intestines. When the insect is full of
food, these bowels appear opaque and of a blood-red
J.'* uivviuiatcUliiiiJg UIC v/1  7   I ! l u 11 1 rrrpnf
the microscope generally discovers others in the same colouri extending quite through tie e y ant g ^
r 0 ] 3 A 2 P*1'-
A N I
[ 372 ]
A N I
21
Other kinds
of wheel
animals.
22
Manner of
producing
part of the tail, and exhibiting a variety of contractions
and dilatations. The belly is capable of stretching out
greatly in length, or being shortened very much, and
widening its diameter. It assumes many shapes, and
becomes occasionally a case for all the other parts of
the body.
Besides the above-mentioned one, there are found in
the waters several other species of animals furnished
with wheels, some of which appear to have a r-otatory,
and others a vibratory, motion. Fig. 25. represents a
kind found in the ditch at Norwich, where the hair¬
like insect is produced. They differ from the forego¬
ing only in having very long tails. Fig. 26, 27, and
28, represent a species of wheel animals, which are also
covered with shells. The body of this species consists
of three parts, in like manner as the other ; only the
thorax and abdomen, in this, are not separated by any
gut, or intermediate vessel, but are joined immediately
together. The heart is plainly perceived, having a re¬
gular systole and diastole, at a, as in the former species.
These creatures occasionally draw themselves entirely
within their shells ; and the shell then appears ter¬
minated by six short spikes on one side and two on the
other.
The young ones of this species are carried in oval sac-
. 0 culi, or integuments, fastened externally on the lower
t icir young par{. 0p ^]ejr s|le]ls somewhere about the tail; these sac-
cuh are sometimes opaque only at one end, and seem¬
ingly empty at the other 5 sometimes they appear
opaque in the middle, with a transparency all round, as
in fig. 26. When the young one is about to burst its in¬
teguments, the parent assists it greatly, by wagging its
tail, and striking the oval bag, so that the young one’s
head becomes as it were forced into the water, though
the tail cannot be so soon disengaged. In this condi¬
tion the young one sets its wheel a going, and exerts
all its endeavours to free itself from its confinement.
When it has got clear, it swims away, wagging its tail
as the old one does, and leaving the integument adhe¬
ring to the shell of the parent. The old one then uses
a number of efforts to get rid of this incumbrance,
striking against it with her tail, fixing the end of her
tail upon it, and then darting her body forward ; with
several very odd motions not easily to be described. This
kind of wheel animals are great tormentors of the wa¬
ter flea, Pulex aquatints arborescens of Swammerdam ;
of which a figure is given from that author (Plate
XXXVI.) : fig. 2. shows the natural size of the flea $
and fig. 1. shows it magnified, with some of the wheel
animals adhering to it. These insects are often found
in great numbers in the same water : and when that is
the case, it is not uncommon to discover five or six of
these crustaceous wheel-animals fastened by their tail
to the shell or horns of the flea *, causing it, seemingly,
a vast deal of uneasiness : nor can they be driven away,
or shaken off, by all the efforts the flea can use for that
purpose.
5. The Bell-flower Animal, ovPlumedPolype. These
animalcules dwell in colonies together, from ten to fif¬
teen (seldom falling short of the former number, or
exceeding the latter), in a slimy kind of mucilaginous
or gelatinous case ; which, out of the water, has no de¬
termined form, appearing like a little lump of slime j
but, when expanded therein, has some resemblance to
the figure of a bell with its mouth upwards j and is
Fig. 28. J.
23
Infest the
Pulex A-
quaticus.
24
Bell-flower
animal.
usually about half an inch long, and a quarter of an Animal-
inch in diameter. These bells, or colonies, are to be cule.
found adhering to the large leaves of duckweed, and v~—^
other aquatic plants. They may be most easily di®00* yy}ie2r'g ^
vered by letting a quantity of water, with duckweed in covered,
it, stand quietly for three or four hours in glass vessels
in a window, or other place whence a strong light
comes : for then, if any are about the duckweed, they
will be found, on careful inspection, extending them¬
selves out of their cases, and making an elegant appear¬
ance.
The bell, or case, which these animals inhabit, being
very transparent, all the motions of its inhabitants may
be discerned through it distinctly. It seems divided in¬
ternally into several apartments, or rather to contain se¬
veral smaller sacculi, each of which encloses one of these
animals. The openings at the tops of these sacculi, are
but just sufficient to admit the creature’s head and a
small part of its body to be thrust out beyond them, the
rest remaining always in the case. It can, however, oc¬
casionally retire into its case altogether 3 and never fails
to do so when alarmed by any sudden motion of the wa¬
ter, or of the vessel which contains it. ^
Beside the particular and separate motion which each Motions of
of these creatures is able to exert within its own case, the whale
and independent of the rest 3 the whole colony together c°lony*
has a power of altering the position of the bell, or even
of removing it from one place to another 3 and hence
this bell is sometimes found standing perfectly upright,
as in fig. 29. and 33. and sometimes bending the upper
part downwards, as in fig. 30. As these animalcules
seem not to choose to stay together in societies whose
number exceeds 15, when the colony happens to in¬
crease in number, the bell may be observed to split gra¬
dually, beginning from about the middle of the upper
or anterior extremity, and proceeding downwards to¬
wards the bottom, as in fig. 32. till they at last separate
entirely, and become two complete colonies independent
of each other, one of which sometimes removes to ano¬
ther part of the vessel. 27
The arms of each individual of this colony are set Description
round the head, to the number of 40, having each the°fan
figure of an Italic f, one of whose hooked ends is fast-'1 ua"
ened to the head 3 and all together, when expanded,
compose a figure shaped somewhat like a horse’s shoe,
convex on one side next the body, but gradually open¬
ing and turning outwards, so as to leave a considerable
area within the outer extremities of the arms. When
the arms are thus extended, the creature, by giving
them a vibrating motion, can produce a current in the
water, which brings the animalcules, or whatever other
minute bodies are within the sphere of its action, with
great velocity to its mouth, situated between the arms 3
where they are taken in if liked, or driven away by a
contrary motion. The food is conveyed immediately
from the mouth or opening between the arms, through
a narrow neck, into a passage seemingly correspondent;
to the oesophagus in land animals 3 down which it pas¬
ses into the stomach, where it remains for some time,
and then is voided upwards, in small round pellets,
through a gut whose exit is near the neck. The body
consists of three divisions 3 in the uppermost of which
are contained all the above-mentioned intestines, which
are only to be discerned when the creature is full, at
which time they become opaque. The other two di¬
visions.
ANT
[ 373 ]
A N I
Animal¬
cule.
28
Seem to
visions, which are probably fixed to the bell, seem to
be of no other use than to give the creature a power
of contraction and extension. The arms are not able
to contract like those of the common polype j but
when the animal retires into its case, they are brought
together in a close and curious order, so as to be easily
drawn in. Though their general appearance, when
expanded, is that of a cup whose base and top are of
a horse-shoe form, they sometimes separate into four
parts, and range themselves as in fig. 36. so as to re¬
semble four separate plumes of feathers. Though their
cepUon^T*6^68 cannot be discovered, yet Mr Baker thinks they
iiHn. have some perception of the light : for when kept in
the dark, they always remain contracted ; but on be¬
ing exposed to the light of the sun or of a candle, they
constantly extend their arms, and show evident signs of
being pleased.
Fig. 29. represents one complete colony or bell stand¬
ing erect, with all the animals out of their kingdom, and
their arms extended, exhibiting all together a very pretty
appearance : a, represents two oval bodies, supposed by
Mr Baker to be eggs.
Fig. 30. shows all the creatures withdrawn into their
cells, and the end of the bell hanging downwards.
Fig. 33. shows the bell erect, with only one of the
animals coming out, in order to show its connexion with
the bell.
Fig. 34. shows the head and arms of a single polype
closing together, and disposing themselves in order to
be drawn into the bell.
Fig. 35. shows one complete animal greatly magni¬
fied, to show its several parts more distinctly, viz. a, the
head, resembling a horse shoe} bb, the arms seen from
one side 5 c, the narrow neck; d, the cesophagus ; e,
the stomach yf, the gut, or last intestine through which
the food passes after being digested in the stomach $
g, the anus, where the faeces are discharged in little
pellets \ hi, that part of the bell which surrounds the
body of the animal, and closes upon it when it retires
down.
Fig. 37. The head and arms seen in front.
6. The Globe-animal. This animalcule, represented
fig. 38. seems exactly globular, haying no appearance
of either head, tail, or fins. It moves in all directions,
forwards or backwards, up or down, either rolling over
and over like a bowl, spinning horizontally like a top,
or gliding along smoothly without turning itself at all.
Sometimes its motions are slow, at other times very
swift •, and, when it pleases, it can turn round, as it were,
upon an axis, very nimbly, without removing out of
its place. The wdiole body is transparent, except
where the circular black spots are shown in the figure.
Some of the animals have no spots, and others from one
to seven. The surface of the whole body appears, in
some, as if all over dotted with points ; in others, as
if granulated like shagreen: but their more general ap¬
pearance is, as if beset thinly round with short moveable
hairs or bristles, which probably are the instruments by
which their motions are performed. The animalcules
may be seen by the naked eye, but appear only like
moving points.
7. The Pipe-animal. These creatures are found on
the coast of Norfolk, living in small tubes or cases of
sandy matter, in such multitudes as to compose a mass
sometimes of three feet in length. Fig. 39. shows a
2
29
Globe-ani-
ml.
30
ripe, ani¬
mal.
3r
piece of such a congeries broke off, where aaaa repre¬
sent the mouths or openings of the pipes wherein the
little animals make their abode. Fig. 40. shows one
single pipe, with its inhabitant, separated from the rest,
and magnified nine or ten times in diameter. The pipe
or case b is made of sand, intermixed here and there with
minute shells, and all cemented together by a glutinous
slime, probably issuing from the animal’s own body e,
which is composed of muscular ringlets like those of a
worm, capable of great extension or contraction. The
inferior end or head, d, is exceedingly beautiful, having
round it a double row of little arms disposed in a very
regular order, and probably capable of extension, in or¬
der to catch its food, and bring it to its mouth. Some SoHretimes
of these tubes are found petrified, and constitute one found petri-
species of syringoides. fiecJ*
8. An Insect with net-like arms. The properties and insects with
shape of this little animal are very extraordinary. Itisnet-Jike
found only in cascades, where the water runs very swift, arms.
There these insects are found in clusters, standing erect
on their tails j and resembling, wdien all together,
the combs of bees at the time they are filled with their
aurelise. On being taken out of the water, they spin
threads, by which they hang exactly in the same man¬
ner as the garden spider. Fig. 42. shows one of these
insects magnified. Its body appears curiously turned
as on a lathe ; and at the tail are three sharp spines, on
which it raises itself, and stands upright in the water $
but the most curious apparatus is about its head, where
it is furnished with two instruments like fans or nets,
which serve to provide its food. These it frequently
spreads out and draws in again ; and when drawn up,
they are folded together with the utmost nicety and
exactness, so as to be indiscernible when brought close to
the body. At the bottom of these fans a couple of claws
are fastened to the lower part of the head, which, every
time the nets are drawn in, conduct to the mouth of
the animal whatever is taken in them. When the
creature does not employ its nets, it thrusts out a pair
of sharp horns, as in fig. 41. where the insect is shown
magnified about 400 times.
Some of these creatures being kept with wrater in a
vial, most of them died in two days j and the rest,
having spun themselves transparent cases (which were
fastened either to the sides of the glass, or to pieces
of grass put into it), seemed to be changed into a kind
of chrysalis : but, before taking this form, they ap¬
peared as in fig. 43. which shape they likewise assumed
when weary with catching their food, or when lying
in wait for it. None of them lived above three days 5
and though fresh water wras given them two or three
times a-day, yet, in a few hours, it would stink to a de-Surpn'ging
gree scarce conceivable, and that too at several yards di-property of
stance, though in proportion to the water, all the in-spoiling wa--
eluded insects were not more than as I to 150,000.u'1*
This makes it probable, that it is necessary for them to
live in a rapid stream, lest they should be poisoned by
the effluvia issuing from their own bodies, as no doubt
they were in the vial. ^
9. A curious aquatic worm. This animalcule is An aquatic
shown, magnified, at fig. 31. It is found in ditch worm,
water ; and is of various sizes, from -g— to 4 of an inch in
length. About the head it is somewhat of a yellowish
colour $ hut all the rest of the body is perfectly colour¬
less and transparent, except the intestines, which are
considerably
A N I
[ 374 ]
A N I
Aramal-
cu'e.
35
Its horn or
proboscis.
36
Spermatic
animals,
when dis¬
covered.
37
Creneral ap¬
pearance
the same in
every ani¬
mal.
PI. XXXII.
considerably opaque, and disposed as in the figure. Along
its sides are several papillte, with long, hairs growing
from them : it has two black eyes, and is very nimble.
But the most remarkable thing in this creature is a long
horn or proboscis j which, in the large ones, maybe seen
with the naked eye, if the water is clear, and is some¬
times -jig- of an inch in length : this it waves to and fro
as it moves in the water, or creeps up the side ol the
glass ; but it is not known whether it is hollow, or of
what use it is to the creature itself.
10. Spermatic Animals, and Anwialcula Injusona.
The discovery of living animalcules in the semen ol most
animals is claimed by Mr Leeuwenhoek and Mr Nicho¬
las Hartsoeker, who both say they published it about the
end of the year 1677 or beginning of 1678: but Mr
Leeuwenhoek having given the most particular descrip¬
tion of, and made by far the greatest number of expe¬
riments, concerning them, the discovery is commonly
attributed to him.
According to this naturalist, these animalcules are
found in the semen masculinum of every kind of animal:
but their general appearance is very much the same, nor
doth their size differ in proportion to the bulk of the
animal to which they belong. The bodies of all of
them seem to be of an oblong oval form, with long ta¬
pering slender tails issuing from them ; and as by this
shape they resemble tadpoles, they have been frequently
called by that name ; though the tails of them, in pro¬
portion to their bodies, are much longer than the tails
of tadpoles are: and it is observable, that the animalcules
in the semen of fishes have tails much longer and mote
slender than the tails of those in other animals j insomuch,
that the extremity of them is not to be discerned without
the best glasses, and the utmost attention. Fig. 21.
N° I, 2, 3, 4, represent the spermatic animalcula of the
3s .
luconeeive-
able num¬
ber and mi¬
nuteness.
39
Are conti¬
nually in
motion.
rabbit 5 and N° 5, 6, 7, 8, those of a dog ; according
to Mr Leeuwenhoek.
The numbers of these animalcula are inconceivable.
On viewing with a microscope the milt or semen mas¬
culinum of a living cod fish, innumerable multitudes of
animalcules were found therein of such a diminutive size,
that he supposed at least 10,OOO of them capable of be¬
ing contained in the bulk of a grain of sand *, whence
he concludes, that the milt of this single fish contained
more living animalcules than there are to be found peo¬
ple living in the whole world. To find the compara¬
tive size of these animalcules, Mr Leeuwenhoek placed
a hair of his head near them ; which hair, through his
microscope, appeared an inch in breadth 5 and he was
satisfied, that at least 60 such animalcules could easily
lie within that diameter ; Whence, their bodies being
spherical, it follows, that 216,000 of them are but
equal to a globe whose diameter is the breadth of a
hair. He observed, that when the water wherewith
he had diluted the semen of a cod fish was exhaled, the
little bodies of the animalcules burst in pieces j which
did not happen to those in the semen of a ram : and
this he imputes to the greater firmness and consistency
of the latter, as the flesh of a land animal is more com¬
pact than fish.
These animalcules appear to be very vigorous, and
tenacious of life : for they may be observed to move
long after the animal from which they are taken is dead.
They have this peculiarity also that they are continu¬
ally in motion, without the least rest or intermission,
3
provided there is fluid sufficient for them to swim about
These animalcula are peculiar to the semen 5 no-
Aniriiah
cule.
40
thing that has the least token of life being discovered,
by the best glasses, either in the blood, spittle, urine,
gall, or chyle. Great numbers, however, are to be
found in the whitish matter that sticks between the
teeth 5 some of which are of an oval figure, and others
resemble eels.
The Animalcula Infusoria take their name from their Aniinaleuls
being found in all kinds either of vegetable or animal i^asoria.
infusions. Indeed there is scarcely any kind of water,
unless impregnated with some mineral substance, but 4I
what will discover living creatures.—Mr Leeuwenhoek Mr Leeu-
says, that at first he could discern no living creatures wenhoek's
in rain -water ; but after standing some days he disco- amount of
vered innumerable animalcules, many thousands of times f*11'11? C11 ec
.„ , , . * * » . m ram wa.
less than a gx-am ot sand, and in proportion to a mite aster<
a bee is to a horse.—In other rain water, which had
likewise stood some time, he found the smallest sort he
had ever seen ; and, in a few days more, met with
others eight times as big as these, and almost round.
In another quantity of rain water that had been ex¬
posed like the former, he discovered a kind of animal¬
cules with two little horns in continual motion. The
space between the horns ivas flat, though the body
was roundish, but tapering a little towards the end $
where a tail appeared, four times as long as the body,
and the thickness of a spider’s web. He observed se¬
veral hundreds of these within the space a grain of sand
would occupy. If they happened on the least filament
or string, they were entangled in it j and then would
extend their bodies into an oblong round, and struggle
hard to disengage their tails. He observed a second
sort of an oval figure, and imagined the head to stand
at the sharpest end. The body was flat, with several
small feet moving exceeding quick, but not discernible
without a great deal of attention. Sometimes they
changed their shape into a perfect round, especially when
the water began to dry away. He met also with a third
soi-t, twice as long as broad, and eight times smaller than
the first: yet in these he discerned little feet, whereby
they moved very nimbly. He perceived likewise a
fourth sox-t, a thousand times smaller than a louse’s eye,
and which exceeded all the rest in briskness 5 he found
42
these turning themselves round, as it were upon a point,
with the celerity of a top. And he says, there were se-
vei'al other sorts.
The production of animalcula infusoria is very sur-surprising
prising. In four hours time, an infusion of cantharides production!!
has produced animalcula less than even the tails of the of these m
spermatic animals we have already' described. Neither1119 cu
do they seem to he subject to the fate of other animals*,
but, several kinds of them at least, by dividing them¬
selves in two, to enjoy a sort of immortality. Nor do
the common methods by which other animals ai*e de¬
stroyed, seem to be effectual for destroying their vital
principle. Hot mutton gravy, secui-ed in a phial writh a
cork, and afterwards set among hot ashes to destroy as
effectually as possible every living creature that could
be supposed to exist in it, has nevertheless been found
swarming with animalcules after standing a few days. ^ Enis’J
In the Philosophical Transactions, vol. lix. we have the acceunt 0!j
following curious account, given us by Mr Ellis, ofani-animalcuk
malcules produced from an infusion of potatoes and ofb-0111 i"**1*
1 1 sion of po
hemPsee(L {< OQtatocs.
Animal¬
cule.
w 44 .
■From an in.
fusion of
hemp seed.
Tv. .45
Divide
themselves
into two.
A N I [37
“ On the 25th of May 1768, Fafirenhek’s thermo¬
meter 70®, I boiled a potato in the New Kiver water
' till it was reduced to a mealy consistence. I put part
of it, with an equal proportion of the boiling liquor,
into a cylindrical glass vessel that held something less
than half a wine pint, and covered it close immediately
with a glass cover. At the same time, I sliced an un¬
boiled potato ; and, as near as I could judge, put the
same quantity into a glass vessel of the same kind; with
the same proportion of New River water not boiled ;
and covered it with a glass cover 5 and placed both ves¬
sels close to each other.
“ On the 26th of May, 24 hours afterwards, I ex¬
amined a small drop of each, by the first magnifier of
Wilson’s microscope, whose focal distance is reckoned
at T\y part of an inch ; and, to my amazement, they
were both full of animalcula of a linear shape, very di¬
stinguishable, moving to and fro with great celerity ;
so that there appeared to be more particles of animal
than vegetable life in each drop.
“ This experiment I have repeatedly tried, and al¬
ways found it to succeed in proportion to the heat of
the circumambient air ; so that even in winter, if the
liquors are kept properly warm, at least in two or three
days, the experiment will succeed.
“ What I have observed are infinitely smaller than
spermatic animals, and of a very different shape j the
truth of which every accurate observer will soon be
convinced of, whose curiosity may lead him to compare
them } and 1 am persuaded he will find they are no
way akin.
“ At present I shall pass over many other curious
observations, which I have made on two years expe¬
riments, in order to proceed to the explaining a hint
which I received last January from M. de Saussure of
Geneva, when he was here j which is, that he found
one kind of these animalcula infusoria that increase by
dividing across into nearly two equal parts.
“ I had often seen this appearance in various species,
a year or two ago, as I found upon looking over the
minutes I had taken when I made any new observa¬
tion *, but always supposed the animal, when in this
state, to be in coition.
“ Not hearing, till after M. de Saussure left this
kingdom, from what infusion he had made his obser¬
vation ; his friend Dr de la Roche of Geneva informed
me, the latter end of February last, that it was from
hempseed.
“ I immediately procured hempseed from different
seedsmen in different parts of the town. Some of it 1
put into New River water, some into distilled water,
and some I put into very hard pump water. The re¬
sult was, that in proportion to the heat of the weather,
or the warmth in which they were kept, there was an
appearance of millions of minute animalcula in all the
infusions j and, some time after, some oval ones made
their appearance, as at fig. 3. Z>, c. These were much
larger than the first, which still continued : these wrig¬
gled to and fro in an undulatory motion, turning them¬
selves round very quick all the time that they moved
forwards. I was very attentive to see these animals
divide themselves j and at last I perceived a few of the
appearance of fig. 3. a, as it is represented by the first
magnifier of Wilson’s microscope ; but I am so well
convinced by experience that they would separate,
5 ] A N I
that I did not wait to see the operation : however, as
the following sketches, which 1 have drawn from five
other species, will very fully explain this extraordinary
phenomenon, there will be no difficulty in conceiving
the manner of the first. See fig. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.
“ The proportion of the number of these animals
which I have observed to divide in this manner, to the
rest, is scarce I to 50; so that it appears rather to arise
from hurts received by some few animalcula among
the many, than to be the natural manner in which these
kinds of animals multiply 5 especially if we consider the
infinite quantity of young ones which are visible to us
through the transparent skins of their bodies, and even
the young ones that are visible in those young ones
while in the body of the old ones.
“ But nothing more plainly shows them to be zoo¬
phytes than this circumstance, That when, by acci¬
dent, the extremity of their bodies has been shrivelled
for want of a supply of fresh water, the applying more
fresh water has given motion to the part of the animal
that was still alive : by which means, this shapeless fi¬
gure has continued to live and swim to and iro all the
time it was supplied with fresh water.
“ I cannot finish this part of my remarks on these
animals, without observing, that the excellent Linnaeus
has joined the beroe with the volvox, one of the animal- 46
cula infusoria. The beroe is amarine animal, found Beroe de-
on our coast j of a gelatinous transparent nature, and scr‘t>e^‘
of an oval or spherical form, from half an inch to an
inch diameter ; divided like a melon into longitudinal
ribs, each of which is furnished with rows of minute
fins j by means of which, this animal, like the animal-
cula infusoria, can swim in all directions with great
swiftness. In the same manner 1 have seen most of
those minute animals move so swift that we could not
account for it, without supposing such a provision in
nature, which is really true, but cannot be seen till the
animals grow faint for want of water ; then, if we at¬
tend, we may with good glasses plainly discover them. ^
“ I have lately found out, by mere accident, a me- Method of
thod to make their fins appear very distinctly, especi-discovering
ally in the larger kind of animalcula, which are com- of
mon to most vegetable infusions j such as the terebella. cujes
This has a longish body, with a cavity or groove at one
end, like a gimlet: by applying, then, a small stalk ot
the horse-shoe geranium (or geranium zonale of Lin-
nteus), fresh broken, to a drop of water in which these
animalcula are swimming, we shall find that they will
become torpid instantly *, contracting themselves into
an oblong oval shape, with their fins-extended like so
many bristles all round their bodies. The fins are in
length about half the diameter of the middle of their
bodies. Before I discovered this expedient, 1 tried to
kill them by different kinds of salts and spirits j hut
though they were destroyed by this means, their fins
were so contracted, that I could not distinguish them
in the least. After lying in this state of torpidity
for two or three minutes, if a drop of clean water is
applied to them, they will recover their shape, and
swim about immediately, rendering their fins again in¬
visible.”
Fig. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, represent different species of
animalcula infusoria, mentioned by Mr Ellis as belong¬
ing to the genus volvox of Linnaeus.
Fig. 3. represents the volvox ovalis, or egg-shaped
volvox J
A N I [ 376 ] A N I
mal- volvox j at (b) and (c) it is expressed in its natural
ile. shape j at (a) the manner in 'which it becomes two ani-
v ‘ mals, by separating across the middle. This was found
in the infusion of hempseed } but is found in other ve¬
getable infusions, particularly that of tea seed.
Fig. 4. is the volvox torquilla, or wryneck. At (a)
is represented its divided state ^ at (b) and (c) its na¬
tural state ; this is common to most vegetable infusions,
as is the following :
Fig. 5. is the volvox volutans, or the roller. At (a)
the animal is sepai’ated, and becomes two distinct be¬
ings, each swimming about and providing for itself: this
is often the prey of another species of this genus, espe¬
cially while it is weak by this separation, not being so
active for some time till it can recover itself. At (c)
the animal appears to be hurt on one side j this impres¬
sion in a little time is succeeded by another in the op¬
posite side, as at (b), which soon occasions a division.
At (d) is the side view, and at (e) the front view, of
the natural shape of the animal.
Fig. 6. is the volvox oniscus, or wood-louse. At (a)
is the natural shape of it, as it appears full of little
hairs, both at the head and tail j with those at the head,
it whirls the water about to draw its prey to it 5 the
feet, which are many, are very visible, but remarkably
so in a side-view at (d). At (b) it is represented be¬
ginning to divide; and at (c) the animals are ready
to part: in this state, as if in exquisite pain, they
swim round and round, and to and fro, with uncom¬
mon velocity, violently agitated till they get asunder.
This was found in an infusion of different kinds of pine
branches.
Fig. 7. is the volvox terebella, or the gimlet. This
is one of the largest of the kind, and is very visible to
the naked eye. It moves along swiftly, turning itself
round as it swims, just as if boring its way : (a) and
(b) are two views of its natural shape $ (c) shows the
manner of its dividing. When they are separated,
the lower animal rolls very awkwardly along, till it
gets a groove in the upper part: (d) represents one
of them lying torpid, by means of the juice of the
horse-shoe geranium, with its fins extended. This ani¬
mal is found in many infusions, particularly of grass or
corn.
• Fig. 8. is the volvox vorax, or glutton. This animal
was found in an infusion of the Tartarian pine; it va¬
ries its shape very much, contracting and extending its
proboscis, turning it to and fro, in various directions, as
at a, b, c, d, e. It opens its proboscis underneath the
extremity, when it seizes its prey. The less active ani¬
mals, that have lately been divided, such as those at
%• 3* (a)» and at fig. 4. (a), serve it as food, when
they come in its way : these it swallows down instant¬
ly, as it is represented at fig. 8. h and i. At (f) it is
ready to divide, and at (g) it is divided j where the
hinder part of the divided animal has got a proboscis or
beak, to procure nourishment for itself, and soon be¬
comes a distinct being from the fore part.
Thus we have given as full an account as our limits
would admit, of the most curious kinds of animalcules
that have hitherto been observed. WTe cannot, how¬
ever, dismiss this subject, without taking notice of some
of the most remarkable hypotheses which have been
formed concerning their nature and origin.
Before the invention of microscopes, the doctrine of
equivocal generation, both with regard to animals and Animal,
plants of some kinds, was universally received: but this cule.
instrument soon convinced every intelligent person, thati——v-—■'
those plants which formerly were supposed to be produ-^^3
ced by equivocal generation arose from seeds, and the equivocal °f
animals, in like manner, from a male and female. But generation
as the microscope threw light upon one part of nature, exploded,
it left another involved in darkness : for the origin of
the animalcula infusoria, or of the spermatic animals al¬
ready mentioned, remains as yet as much unknown as
that of many other kinds was when the doctrine of equi¬
vocal generation reigned in full force. ^
The discovery of spermatic animalcules was thought Supposed
to throw some light on the mysterious affair of genera- discovery
tion itself, and these minute creatures were imagined toconcern.ing
be each of them individuals of the same species with^enera 10n’
the parent. Here the infinite number of these ani¬
malcules was an objection, and the difficulty remain¬
ed as great as before: for, as every one of these ani¬
malcules behoved to be produced from a male and fe¬
male, to explain their origin by animalcular generation
in the same manner, was only explaining generation by
itself. .
This hypothesis, therefore, having proved unsatisfac¬
tory, others have been invented. M. Buffon, particu¬
larly, hath invented one, by which he at once annihi¬
lates the whole animalcular world; and in this he hath
been followed by several very ingenious philosophers-
For a particular account of this, so far as it concerns
generation, we must refer to that article j but as he
gives such a particular account of his having examined
the human semen, that we cannot doubt of his accura¬
cy, we shall here contrast his account with that of Mr
Leeuwenhoek already mentioned.
Having procured the seminal vessels of a man whoM. Buffon’e
died a violent death, he extracted all the liquor from experiments
them while they were still warm j and having examined011 t^ie *1U'
a drop of it with a double microscope, it had the ap_man £emen'
pearance, fig. 9. Large filaments appeared, which in
some places spread out into branches, and in others in¬
termingled with one another. These filaments clearly
appeared to be agitated by an internal undulatory mo¬
tion,* like hollow tubes, which contained some moving
substance. He saw distinctly this appearance changed
for that fig. 10. Two of these filaments, which were
joined longitudinally, gradually separated from each
other in the middle, alternately approaching and re¬
ceding, like two tense cords fixed by the ends, and
drawn asunder in the middle. These filaments were
composed of globules that touched one another, and re¬
sembled a chaplet of beads. After this, he observed
the filament swelled in several places, and perceived
small globular bodies issue from the swelled parts, which
had a vibratory motion like a pendulum. These small
bodies were attached to the filaments by small threads,
which gradually lengthened as the bodies moved. At
last, the small bodies detached themselves entirely from
the filaments, drawing after them the small thread,
which looked like a tail. When a drop of the seminal
liquor was diluted, these small bodies moved in all di¬
rections very briskly; and had he not seen them sepa¬
rate themselves from the filaments, he would, he says,
have thought them to be animals. The seminal matter
was at first too thick, but gradually became more fluid j
and, in proportion as its fluidity increased, the filaments
disappeared,
A N I [ 377 ] A N I
Animal- disappeared, but the small bodies became exceedingly
cule. numerous. Each of them had a long thread or tail at-
<- "v— ' tached to it, from which it evidently endeavoured to
get free. Their progressive motion was extremely slow,
during which they vibrated to the right and left, and at
each vibration they had a rolling unsteady motion in a
vertical direction.
At the end of two or three hours, the seminal matter
becoming still more fluid, a greater number of these
moving bodies appeared. They were then more free of
encumbrances; their tailswere shorter; theirprogressive
motion was more direct, and their horizontal motion
greatly diminished. In five or six hours, the liquor had
acquired almost all the fluidity it could acquire without
being decomposed. Most of the small bodies were now
disengaged from their threads; their figure was oval.
They moved forward with considerable quickness, and,
by their irregular motions backward and forward, they
had now more than ever the appearance of animals.
Those that had tails adhering to them, seemed to have
less vivacity than the others ; and of those that had no
tails, some altered more their figure and their size. In
twelve hours, the liquor had deposited at the bottom of
the vial a kind of ash-coloured gelatinous substance,
and the fluid at top was almost as transparent as water.
The little bodies being now entirely freed from their
threads, moved with great agility, and some of them
turned round their centres. They also often changed
their figures, from oval becoming round, and often
breaking into smaller ones. Their activity always in¬
creased as their size diminished. In 24 hours, the li¬
quor had deposited a greater quantity of gelatinous
matter, which, being with some difficulty diluted in
water, exhibited an appearance somewhat resembling
lace. In the clear semen itself only a few small bodies
were now seen moving; next day, these were still far¬
ther diminished ; and after this nothing was to be seen
but globules, without the least appearance of motion.
Most of the above-mentioned appearances are shown
fig. 10, II, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Fig. 17. and 18. re¬
present an appearance of the globules in another ex¬
periment, in which they arranged themselves as troops,
and passed very quickly over the field of the micro¬
scope. In this experiment they are found to proceed
from a small quantity of gelatinous mucilage.
From these experiments, M. Buffbn concludes, that
what have been called spermatic animals, are not crea¬
tures really endowed with life, but something proper
to compose a living creature ; and he distinguishes them
by the name of organic particles. The same individual
kinds of animals he declares he has found in the fluids
separated from the ovaria of females : and for the truth
of this appeals to the testimony of Mr Needham, who
was an eye witness of his experiments. He also brings
Needham’s an additional proof of his doctrine from Mr Needham’s
experiment observation on the milt of the calmar, a species of cut-
on the milt tie fish. Here the spermatic animals, at least what
mr*6 Ca^' ^iave ^ie only aPPearance °f are vastly larger than
in any other creature, so as to be plainly visible to the
naked eye. When magnified, they appear as at fig. 19.
and 20. a. Their first appearance is at fig. 19. a and b,
when they resemble springs'enclosed in a transparent
case. These springs were equally perfect at first as af¬
terwards ; only in time they contracted themselves, and
became like a kind of screw. The head of the case is
Vol. II. Part I. f
a species of valve which opens outward, and through Animal-
which every thing within may be forced out. It con- cule.
tains, besides, another valve, b, a little barrel c, and a' v—
spongy substance d e. Thus the whole machine con- .
sists of an outer transparent cartilaginous case c, the^1®' 2°’
superior extremity of which is terminated by a round
head formed by the case itself, and performs the office
of a valve. This external case contains a transparent
tube : which includes the sprung, a piston or valve, a
little barrel, and spongy substance. The screw occu¬
pies the superior part of the tube and case, the piston
and barrel are situated in the middle, and the spongy
substance occupies the inferior part. These machines
pump the liquor of the milt ; the spongy substance is
full of this liquor; and, before the animal spawns, the
whole milt is only a congeries of these bodies which
have sucked up all the liquor of it. Whenever these
small machines are taken out of the body of the ani¬
mal, and put in water, or exposed to the air, they be¬
gin to act, as represented in fig. 19. and 20; the spring-
mounts up, and is followed by the piston, the barrel,
and the spongy substance which contains the liquor:
and, as soon as the spring and the tube in which it is
contained begin to issue out of the case, the spring
plaits, and the whole internal apparatus moves, till the
spring, the piston, and the barrel, have entirely escaped
from the case. When this is effected, all the rest in¬
stantly follow, and the milty liquor which had been
pumped in, and confined to the spongy substance, runs
out through the barrel.j ^
According to this account, the milt of the calmar Conclu&ion
contains no animalcules ; and therefore we may froma8ainst t,ie
analogy conclude, that the small moving bodies which ex'.ste,.lee °*
are to be seen in the semen of other animals, are not^J™*4 ’
really creatures endowed with life. M. Bufl’on extends
the analogy still further: and concludes, that all the
moving bodies which are to be found in the infusions
either of animal or vegetable substances are of a similar
nature. “ To discover (says he) whether all the parts
of animals, and all the seeds of plants, contained moving
organic particles, I made infussions’of the flesh of differ¬
ent animals, and of the seeds of more than 20 different
species of vegetables ; and after remaining some days in
close glasses, I had the pleasure of seeing organic mov¬
ing particles in all of them. In some they appeared
sooner, in others later ; some preserved their motions
months, and others soon lost it. Some at first produced
large moving globules resembling animals, which
changed their figure, split, and became gradually
smaller. Others produced only small globules, whose
motions were extremely rapid; and others produ¬
ced filaments, which grew longer, seemed to vegetate,
and then swelled and poured forth torrents of moving
globules.” ^ ^
This last observation gave rise to a new system. Ba-Baron
ron Munchansen, perceiving that the last-mentioned Munchan-
moving globules, after moving for some time, began sen’s t^e"
again to vegetate, concluded that they were first animals0Ify‘
and then plants. This strange hypothesis Mr Ellis 54
has overturned in the paper already quoted, in which Di^roZ?f
he asserts that they are no other than the seeds of thatby 1
genus of fungi called mucor or mouldiness, and that
their motion is owing to numbers of minute animal¬
cules attacking them for food. “ Having (says he), at
the request of Dr Linnaeus, made several experiments
3 B oa
A N I [ 378 3 A N I
Animal- on the infusion of mushrooms in water, in order to
rule, prove the theory of Baron Munchansen, that their
“’“‘—'v seeds are first animals, and then plants (which he takes
notice of in his System of Nature, p. 13 26, under the
genus of chaos, by the name of chaos fungorum semi-
11am), it appeared evidently, that the seeds were put
into motion by very minute animalcules, which pro¬
ceeded from the putrefaction of the mushroom : for by
pecking at these seeds, which are reddish, light, round
bodies, they moved them about with great agility in a
variety of directions ; while the little animals them¬
selves were scarcely visible, till the food they had eaten
bad discovered them. The satisfaction I received from
clearing up this point, led me into many other curious
and interesting experiments.
The ingenious Mr Needham supposes these little
transparent ramified filaments, and jointed or coralloid
bodies, which the microscope discovers to us on the
surface of most animal and vegetable infusions when
they become putrid, to be zoophytes, or branched ani¬
mals •, but to me they appear, after a careful scrutiny
with the best glasses, to be of that genus of fungi call¬
ed mucor or nioiddiness ; many of which Michelius has
figured, and Linnaeus has accurately described.
“ Their vegetation is so amazingly quick, that they
may be perceived in the microscope even to grow and
feed under the eye of the observer.
Mr Needham has pointed out to us a species that
is very remarkable for its parts of fructification. (See
Philosophical Transactions, vol. xlv. tab. 5. fig. 3.
a, A). This, he says, proceeds from an infusion of
bruised wheat.
“ I have seen the same species arise from the body of
a dead fly, which was become putrid by lying floating
for some time in a glass of water, where some flowers
had been, in the month of August 1768. This species
of mucor sends forth a mass of transparent filamentous
roots j from whence arise hollow stems, that support
little oblong oval seed vessels, with a hole on the top
of each. From these I could plainly see minute globu¬
lar seeds issue forth in great abundance with an elastic
force, and turn about in the water as if they were ani¬
mated.
“ Continuing to view them with some attention, I
could just discover, that the putrid water which sur¬
rounded them was full of the minutest animalcula j and
that these little creatures began to attack the seeds of
the mucor for food, as I have observed before in the
experiment on the seeds of the larger kind of fungi or
mushrooms. This new motion continued the appear¬
ance of their being alive for some time longer : but
soon after, many of them arose to the surface of the
water, remaining there without motion ; and a succes¬
sion of them afterwards coming up, they united toge¬
ther in little thin masses, and floated to the edge of
the water, remaining there quite inactive during the
time of observation.
“ As this discovery cleared up many doubts which
I had received from reading Mr Needham’s learned
dissertation, I put into the glass several other dead
flies ; by which means this species of nmcor was pro¬
pagated so plentifully, as to give me an opportunity
of frequently trying the same experiment to my full
satisfaction.
“ Lastly, These jointed coralloid bodies, which Mr
3„,
Needham calls chaplets, and pcarl-necklaces, I have seen Animal-
frequently very distinctly. These appear not only on cule.
an infusion of bruised wheat when it becomes putrid, '"“■"'v—
but on most other bodies when they throw up a viscid
scum and are in a state of putrefaction. These, then,
are evidently no more than the most common mucor, the
seeds of which are everywhere floating in the air 5 and
bodies in this state afford them a natural proper soil to
grow upon. Here they send downwards their fine
transparent ramified roots into the moisture which they
float upon j and from the upper part of the scum,
their jointed coralloid branches rise full of seed into
little groove-like figures. When a small portion of
these branches and seeds are put into a drop of the
same putrid water upon which the scum floats, many
of these millions of little animalcula with which it
abounds, immediately seize them as food, and turn
them about with a variety of motions, as in the expe¬
riments on the seeds of the common mushrooms, either
singly, or two or three seeds connected together $ an¬
swering exactly to Mr Needham’s description, but evi¬
dently without any motion of their own, and conse¬
quently not animated. 55
M. Buffon, however, is not content with denying life^;
only to those beings where the signs of it are the most
equivocal j but includes in the same rank of organic kind of ani-
particles, almost every animal too small to be discover-maleuki.
ed by the naked eye, and even some of those whose
motions are evidently perceptible to the eye. “ Al¬
most all microscopic animals,” says he, “ are of the
same nature with the moving bodies in the seminal
fluids and infusions of animal and vegetable substances.
The eels in paste, in vinegar, &c. are all of the same
nature, and derived from the same origin. There are,
perhaps, as many beings that either live or vegetate,
produced by a fortuitous assemblage of organic parti¬
cles, as by a constant and successive generation. Some
of them, as those of the calmar, are only a kind of ma¬
chines, which, though exceedingly simple, are very ac¬
tive. Others, as the spermatic animalcules, seem to imi¬
tate the movements of animals. Others resemble vege¬
tables in their manner of growth and extension. There
are others, as those of blighted wheat, which at plea¬
sure can he made alternately either to live or die, and it
is difficult to know to what they should be compared.
There are still others, and in great numbers, which are
at first a kind of animals, then become a species of ve¬
getables, and again return alternately to their vegeta¬
ble state. The eels in paste have no other origin than
the union of the organic particles of the most essential
part of the grain. The first eels that appear are cer¬
tainly not produced by other eels ; but though they are
not propagated themselves, they fail not to engender
other living eels. By cutting them with the point of
a lancet, w'e discover smaller eels issuing in great num¬
bers out of their bodies. The body of this animal
seems to be only a sheath or sac, containing a multi¬
tude of smaller animals, which perhaps are other sheaths
of the same kind, in which the organic matter is assi¬
milated into the form of eels.”
Though we can by no means pretend to account foru;s 4asott-
the appearance of these animalcules, ^yet we cannot helping incon¬
observing, that our ignorance of the cause of any phe.cUnsb^
nomenon is no argument against its existence. Though
we are notable to account in a satisfactory manner for
the
A N I t 379 ] A N I
AniniHl- the origin of the native Americans, we suppose M.
cule. Buffon himself would reckon it absurd to maintain that
1 ? the Spaniards on their arrival there found only organic
particles moving about in disorder. The case is the
very same with the eels in paste. They are exceed¬
ingly minute in comparison with us ; but, with the solar
mieroscope, Mr Baker has made them assume a more
respectable appearance, so as to have a diameter of an
inch and a half, or two inches, and a length propor¬
tionable. They swam up and down very briskly-; the
motion of their intestines was plainly visible ; when the
water dried up, they died with apparent agonies, and
their mouths gaped very wide. Were we to find a
creature of the size of this magnified eel, gasping in a
place where water bad lately been,- we certainly would
never conclude it to be an organic particle, or a fortui¬
tous assemblage of them ; but a fish. Why then should
we conclude otherwise with regard to the eel while in
its natural state, than that it is a little fish ? In reason¬
ing on this subject, we ought always to remember,
that, however essential the distinction of bodies into
great and small may appear to us, they are not so to
the Deity; with whom, as Mr Baker well expresses
himself, “ an atom is as a world, and a world but as
an atom.”—Were the Deity to exert his power for a
little, and give a natural philosopher a view of a quan¬
tity of paste filled with eels, from each of whose bodies
the light was reflected as when it passes through a so¬
lar microscope ; instead of imagining them organic
particles, the paste would appear like a little moun¬
tain ; he would probably look upon the whole as a
monstrous assemblage of serpents, and be afraid to come
near them. Whenever, therefore, we discover beings
to appearance endowed with the principle of self-pre¬
servation, or whatever else we make the characteristic
of animals, neither the smallness of their size, nor the
impossibility of our knowing how they come there,
ought to cause us doubt of their being really animated.
— At the same time, it must also be remembered, that
motion is not always a characteristic of animal life,
even though the moving bodies should avoid one ano¬
ther, or any seeming obstacle placed in their way. We
know, that inanimate bodies, when electrified, will
avoid others endowed with an electricity of the same
kind, and adhere to those which have the opposite one.
As we are by no means acquainted with the utmost
powers of electricity, but on the contrary, from what
we do know of it, have all the reason in the world to
conclude that it can produce effects utterly beyond our
comprehension, it is impossible for us to know what
share it may have in producing the motions observed
in vegetable infusions, or in the semen of animals.—
We may also further observe, that though in Mr El¬
lis’s experiment of the boiled potato he took it for
granted that every seed of animal life would be de¬
stroyed by the boiling water, yet even this cannot be
proved; nay, on the contrary, it hath been proved by
undeniable experiments, that the human body itself
hath endured a heat of 240 degrees of Fahrenheit (28
degrees above that of boiling water) without injury.
The eggs of these animalcula might therefore be sti’ong
enough to resist the heat hitherto used in Mr Ellis’s or
any other experiment.
A considerable-objection to the existence of animal¬
cules in the semen, or any other part of animal bodies,
must arise from the total exclusion of air, which is found Aniinnl-
so necessary to the life of larger animals. Some instan- cule.
ces, however, have been observed of large animals be-
ing found in such situations as they could not possibly
have enjoyed the least benefit from the air for a great
number of years; and in this state they have not only
lived, but lived much longer than they would otherwise
have done. ^
In Toulon harbour and road, are found solid hard Animals
stones, and perfectly entire; containing in differentsoni^ti"1!s
cells, secluded from all communication with the air, se-
serai living shell fish, of an exquisite taste, called jjes.
tyli, i. e. Dates: to come at these fish, the stones are
broken with mauls. Also, along the coast of Ancona,
in the Adriatic, are stones usually weighing about 50
pounds, and sometimes even more; the outside rug¬
ged, and easily broken, but the inside so hard, as to re¬
quire a strong arm and an iron manl to break them ;
within them, and in separate niches, are found small
shell-fish, quite alive, and very palatable, called Solenes
or Cappe lunghe. These facts are attested by Gassendi,
Blondel, Mayol, the learned bishop of Sulturara, and
more particularly by Aldrovandi a physician of Bolog¬
na. The two latter speak of it as a common fact which
they themselves saw.
In the volume for 1719, of the Academy of Sciences
at Paris, is the following passage :
“ In the foot of an elm, of the bigness of a pretty
corpulent man, three or four feet above the root, and
exactly in the centre, has been found a live toad, mid¬
dle sized, but lean, and filling up the whole vacant
space : no sooner was a passage opened, by splitting
the wood, than it scuttled away very hastily : a more
firm and sound elm never grew ; so that the toad cannot
be supposed to have got into it. The egg whence it was
formed, must, by some very singular accident, have
been lodged in the tree at its first growth. There the
creature had lived without air, feeding on the substance
of the tree, and growing only as the tree grew. This
is attested by Mr Hubert, professor of philosophy at
Caen.”
The volume for the year I731 has a similar obser¬
vation, expressed in these words:
“ In 1719, we gave an account of a fact, which,
though improbable, is well attested ; that a toad had
been found living and growing in the stem of a mid¬
dling elm, w'ithout any way for the creature to come
out or to have got in. M. Seigne, of Nantes, lays be¬
fore the academy a fact just of the very same nature,
except that instead of an elm, it was an oak, and lar¬
ger than the elm, which still heightens the wonder. He
judges, by the time requisite for the grow'th of the
oak, that the toad must have subsisted in it, without
air, or any adventitious aliment, during 80 or 100
years. M. Seigne seems to have known nothing of the
fact in 1719.”
With the two foregoing may be classed a narrative of
Ambrose Paree, chief surgeon to Henry III. king of
France, w'ho, being a very sensible writer, relates the
following fact, of which he was an eye-witness.
“ Being (says he) at my seat, near the village of
Meudon, and overlooking a quarryman whom I had
set to break some very large and hard stones; in the
middle of one we found a huge toad, full of life, and
without any visible aperture by which it could get
3 B 2 there^
A N I [ 380 ] A N I
Aaimal- there. I began to wonder how it received birth, had
cule, grown, and lived 5 but the labourer told me, it was not
Animated. t|ie first time iie i,aa met with a toad, and the like crea-
¥ tores, within huge blocks of stone, and no visible open¬
ing or fissure.”
Observations of living toads, found in very hard and
entire stones, occur in several authors, particularly Bap¬
tist Fulgosa doge of Genoa, the famous physicians Agri¬
cola and Horstius, and Lord Verulam others give very
specious accounts of snakes, frogs, crabs, and lobsters,
being found alive, enclosed within blocks of marble,
rocks, and large stones.
An instance similar to these, of the truth of which we
have no reason to doubt, was observed in this country
in the year 1773, where a large toad was found in the
middle of a piece of coal having not the least visible
58 crack or fissure.
The subject Upon the whole, therefore, though philosophers are
still ob- n0f. yej. ab]e j.0 c][scover |j0W these minute creatures
are produced •, yet, that there really are animals much
smaller than what we can discern with our naked eye,
seems to be indisputable. The subject, however, is still
evidently obscure, and will no doubt require the ut¬
most attention of philosophers, as well as further im¬
provements in the construction of microscopes, fully to
investigate it.
Animalcula are said to be the cause of various dis¬
orders. The itch, from several experiments, is affirm¬
ed to be a disorder arising from the irritations of a spe¬
cies of animalcula found in the pustules of that ail¬
ment j whence the communication of it by contact from
one to another is easily conceived, as also the reason of
the cure being effected by cutaneous applications. On
this foundation some have attributed the smallpox and
measles, and infectious diseases } others the epilepsy,
&c. to animalcules. Langius goes farther, and pre¬
tends to reduce all diseases in general to the same prin¬
ciple. A late writer at Paris, who assumed the title
of an English physician, has done more. He not only
accounts for all diseases, but for the operation of all
medicines, from the hypothesis of animalcules. He has
peculiar animalcules for every disease 5 scorbutic ani¬
malcules, podagrical animalcules, variolous animalcules,
&c. all at his service. Journ. des Spav. tom. Ixxxii.
P- 535.
But as most discoveries in natural philosophy have
laid a foundation for the warm imaginations of some
men to form visionary theories, to the great prejudice
of real knowledge j so those relating to animalcula
have been drawn in, however improperly, to support
the most whimsical and chimerical systems.
Animalcules, Invisible.—Naturalists suppose ano¬
ther species or order of invisible animalcules, viz. such as
escape the cognizance even of the best microscopes, and
give many probable conjectures in relation to them.
Keason and analogy give some support to the existence
of infinite imperceptible animalcules. The naked eye,
say some, takes in from the elephant to the mite; but
there commences a new order reserved only for the mi¬
croscope, which comprehends all these from the mite to
those 27 millions of times smaller ; and this order can¬
not be yet said to be exhausted, if the microscope be not
arrived at its last perfection. See further on this sub¬
ject the article Microscope.
ANIMATED, or Animate, in a general sense,
2
denotes something endowed with animal life. It also Animated
imports a thing to be impregnated with vermine or ani- [|
malcules. Anjou.
Animated Horse-Hairs. See HonsE-Hairs.
ANIMATION signifies the informing an animal
body with a soul.—The different hypotheses of physi¬
cians and philosophers, concerning the time of anima¬
tion, have had their influence on the penal laws made
against artificial abortions : it having been made capital
to procure miscarriage in the one state, while in the
other it was only deemed a venial crime. The emperor
Charles V. by a constitution published in 1532, put the
matter on another footing j instead of the distinction of
an animated and unanimated foetus, he introduced that
of a vital and non-vital foetus, as a thing of more
obvious and easy decision, and not depending on any
system either of creation, traduction, or infusion. Ac¬
cordingly a foetus is said, in a legal sense, to be ani¬
mated, when it is perceived to stir in the womb; which
usually happens about the middle of the term of gesta¬
tion.
ANIME, in Heraldry, a term used when the eyes
of a rapacious creature are borne of a different tincture
from the creature itself.
Anime, a resin exsuding from the trunk of a large
American tree, called by Piso jetaiba, by the Indians
courbaril, (a species of Hymen;ea). This resin is of
a transparent amber colour, a light agreeable smell,
and little or no taste. It dissolves entirely, but not
very readily, in rectified spirit of wine; the impurities,
which are often in large quantity, remaining behind.
The Brazilians are said to employ anime in fumigations
for pains and aches proceeding from a cold cause: with
us, it is rarely, if ever, made use of for any medicinal
purposes.
ANIMETTA, among ecclesiastical writers, denotes
the cloth wherewith the cup of the eucharist is cover¬
ed.
ANINGA, in commerce, a root which grows in the
Antilles islands, and is pretty much like the China
plant. It is used by sugar bakers for refining the sugar.
ANJOU, a province and duchy of France before
the revolution, bounded on the east by Touraine, cm
the south by Poictou, on the west by Bretagne, and
on the north by Maine. It is now included under the
departments of the Mayne and Loire, and the Sarte
and Mayenne. It is 70 miles in length, and in
breadth 60. Through this province run five naviga¬
ble rivers: the Loire, which divides it into tuTo
parts j the Vienne, the Toue, the Mayenne, and the
Sarte.
The air is temperate, and the country agreeably di¬
versified with hills and meadows. There are 33 fo¬
rests of oak trees mixed with beech. The country
produces white wine, wheat, barley, rye, oats, pease,
beans, flax, hemp, walnuts, and some chesnuts. In
Lower Anjou they make cyder. There are fruit trees
ol all kinds, and pasture proper for horses. The great¬
est riches of the province consist in cows, oxen, and
sheep. There are several coal and iron mines 5 and
yet there are but two forges in the whole province.
There are quarries of marble and of slate 5 as well as
quarries of white stone, proper for building, on the
side of the river Loire. Here are also several saltpetre
works and some glass-houses. The remarkable towns,
,, besides
AN IMAL C U L E S
PLATE XXXV.
Fi<j. 15
Fi(f. ‘20.
Fig. 29.
f, 'r-
Fig. 29.
licffe Sculp *
Fig. 14.
Fug. 1.1.
Fig!. F>.
Fig. 17.
Fig. 1('{.
Fig. 1.9.
Fig. ?1.
SPERMATIC AXJMALCCEaT SPERMATIC ANTMAI.CCEA
trf' t/w Fg"' 1 gl‘ 9/r Fabbit
. tcromi/XG VO THE l/RST edmoxof LKWJIXJHH'K.
'•“Vv
Fig. 23.
AREOMETER
Tig. 22.
ANXICIN l.M OVUM.
RM'F< v/Ip! falin V
Anjon
Anna.
ANN [38
besides Angers the capital, are Saumur, Brisac, Pons de
Cea, La Fleche, and Beaufort.
ANIO, (Cicero, Horace, Priscian) j Anien, (Sta¬
tius) j now il Teverone: a river of Italy, which falls
into the Tiber, three miles to the north of Rome, not
far from Antemnse. It rises in a mountain near Tre-
ba, (Pliny) ; and running through the country of the
Hlquiculi or AEqui, it afterwards separated the Latins
from the Sabines j but nearer its mouth, or confluence,
it had the Sabines on each side. It forms three beau¬
tiful lakes in its course, (Pliny). In the territories of
Tibur it falls from a great height, and there forms a
very rapid cataract j hence the epithet prceceps, and
hence the steam caused by its fall, (Horace). Amenus
is the epithet formed from it, (Virgil, Propertius).
Anienus is also the god of the river, (Propertius, Sta¬
tius.)
ANISUM, or Anise. See Pimpinella, Botany
Index.
ANKER, a liquid measure at Amsterdam. It con¬
tains about 32 gallons English measure.
ANKLE, in Anatomy, the joint which connects the
foot to the leg.—We have an account of the menses be¬
ing regularly evacuated at an ulcer of the ankle, Edin.
Med. Obs. vol. iix. art. 29.
ANN, or Annat, in Scots Law, is half a years sti¬
pend, which the law gives to the executors of ministers
of the church of Scotland, over and above what was due
to the minister himself for his incumbency.
ANNA, one of the three principalities into which
Arabia Deserta is divided.
Anna, one of the chief cities of the above princi¬
pality, and formerly a famed mart-town, is situated in
Lat. 33. 57. and E. Long. 42. 10. on the river Eu¬
phrates, in a fruitful and pleasant soil. It has two
streets, which are divided by the river. That on the
Mesopotamia side is about two miles long, but thinly
peopled, and by none but tradesmen ; that on the op¬
posite side is about six miles in length, and it is there
that the principal inhabitants of the city dwell. Every
house has some ground belonging to it; and these
grounds are loaded with noble fruit trees, as lemons,
oranges, citrons, quinces, figs, dates, pomegranates,
olives, all very large and in great plenty. Some of
the flat grounds are sown with corn and other grain,
which yield likewise a considerable crop. This city is
the common rendezvous of all the robbers that infest
the country, and from which they disperse themselves
into all parts of the desert. Here they meet to con¬
sult ; here they hold their grand council, and delibe¬
rate where to rob next with success. It is with great
difficulty that the Turkish aga, and the janizaries who
are kept here, can levy the tribute imposed by the
Turks on all the commodities carried through this
city, which is one of the great thoroughfares for the
passing of the caravans that go to and from. Aleppo,
Tripoli, Damascus, Bagdad, and some other parts of the
Turkish empire.
Anna Comnena, daughter of the emperor Alexius
Comnenus I. was not less distinguished by her eleva¬
ted rank than by her mental qualifications. Her su¬
periority of mind began early to display itself. De¬
spising and neglecting the effeminacy and voluptuous¬
ness of the court in which she was educated, she directed
Annals.
i ] ANN
her attention to literary pursuits. Indulging her favou- Anna
rite studies, she solicited the acquaintance of the more
eminent philosophers of that period.
But the pursuits of literature did not induce her en¬
tirely to abandon society j she gave her hand to Ni-
cephorus Bryennius, a young nobleman of a respecta¬
ble family. This accomplished woman was, however,
actuated with unjustifiable ambition } and, during the
last illness of her father, she united with the empress
Irene, in attempting to prevail upon that monarch to
disinherit his own son, and give the crown to her hus¬
band. The affection and virtue of the father pre¬
vailed over female address and intrigue. But the am¬
bition of Comnena was not diminished ; for she enter¬
ed into a conspiracy to depose her brother j and
when her husband displayed a timidity and hesitation
in this unjust enterprise, she exclaimed, that “ Nature
had mistaken their sexes, for he ought to have been the
woman.”
Either through the vigilance of her brother, or the
timidity of her husband, the treasonable plot was dis¬
covered, and Anna punished with the confiscation of
all her property. But generosity has an opportunity
of displaying its real nature when an enemy is van¬
quished j thus was the generosity of her brother
displayed on the present occasion, by returning all her
property. Ashamed, however, of her base conduct,
she retired from court, and never more possessed any
influence there. Disappointed ambition took shelter
among the walks of literature, and she employed herself
in her solitude in writing the history of her father’s
reign. This production of her pen is still extant, and
composes a part of the collection of the Byzantine hi¬
storians. The stores of rhetoric are ransacked to embel¬
lish this work, and every effort made to enrich it'with
science j but the general complexion of it is rather
like an apology, than an impartial narrative. It must,
however, be acknowledged, that she is not more partial
than many other Latin historians, and that her history
contains many valuable facts and observations. {Gen.
Biog.).
ANNABON. See Annobon.
ANNALE, in the church of Rome, a term applied
to the masses celebrated for the dead during a whole
year.
ANNALIS clavus, the nail which the praetor, con¬
sul, or dictator, drove into the wall of Jupiter’s temple
annually upon the ides of September, to show the num- -
her of years. But this custom was superseded by reck¬
oning years by consulships. The ceremony was some¬
times performed to avert the plague, &c,
ANNALS, in matters of literature, a species of.
history, which relate events in the chronological order
wherein they happened. They differ from perfect hi¬
story in this, that annals are but a bare relation of what
passes every year, as a journal is of what passes every
day } whereas history relates not only the transactions
themselves, but also the causes, motives, and springs of
actions. Annals require nothing but brevity ; history
demands ornament.—Cicero informs us of the origin
of annals. To preserve the memory of events, the
Pontifex Maximus, says he, wrote what passed each
year, and exposed it on tables in his own house, where
every one was at liberty to read : this they called
annales
ANN [ 382 ] ANN
Annals, annales maximi; and hence the writers who Imitated
Annan, this simple method of narrating facts were called anna-
..-,1,.v-- nsts%
ANNAN, the capital of Annandale, a division of
Dumfrieshire in Scotland j a small town, containing
2500 inhabitants, and situated on a river of the same
name, in W. Long. 3. 10. N. Lat. 54. 56. This
place, which is a royal borough, has some trade in wine,
and exports annually between 20 and 30,000 Winches¬
ter bushels (10 and 15,000 bolls) of corn. Vessels of
about 250 tons can come within half a mile of the town j-
and of 60, as high as the bridge $ which consists of five
arches, defended by a gateway. A fabric for carding
and spinning of cotton has lately been erected, and the
town begins to increase. Here was formerly a castle;
•which was built by the Bruces, after they became lords
of Annandale. Upon the death of David II. the son of
King Robert, in 1371, this castle (Lochmaben), and
the lordship of Annandale, came to Thomas Randolph
earl of Murray, and went with his sister Agnes to the
Dunbars, earls of March : after their forfeiture it went
to the Douglasses, who also lost it by the same fate ;
and then having come to Alexander duke of Albany,
he, for rebelling against his brother King James III*
and plundering the fair of Lochmaben in 1484, was al¬
so forfeit. Since which time it continued in the hands
of the king, and became the great key of the west bor¬
der.
The stewarty or district of Annandale, of which
Lochmaben castle was the chief fortalice* is a fertile
vale, 24 miles long, and about 14 miles broad. From
its vicinity to England, and the continual incursions
and predatory wars of the borderers, the greatest part
of it was uncultivated and common ; but since the be¬
ginning of the present century, or rather within the
last thirty years, all these wastes and commons have
been divided and brought into culture, and the country
has assumed a new appearance j which may be ascribed
not only to the division of the commons, but likewise
to the improvement made in the roads, and particularly
in the great western road from Edinburgh to London
by Moffat, Gratney, and Carlisle, running through this
vale, and carried on by some gentlemen of the country,
after they had obtained an act of parliament for levying
a toll to defray the expence of making and keeping it in
repair.
Annandale formed a part of the Roman province of
Valentia •, and Severus’s wall ending here, it abounds
with Roman stations and antiquities. The camps at
Birrens in Middlebie, and on the hill of Burnswark,
are still entire, and their form is preserved; and the tra¬
ces and remains of a military road are now visible in
different parts of the country. The ruins of the house
or castle of Auchincass, in the neighbourhood of Mof¬
fat, once the seat of that potent baron, Thomas Ran¬
dolph, earl of Murray, lord of Annandale, and regent
of Scotland in the minority of David II. covers above
an acre of ground, and even now conveys an idea of the
plan and strength of the building. The ancient castle
of Comlongan, formerly belonging to the Murrays, earls
of Annandale, and now to Lord Stormont, is still in a
tolerable state of preservation ; but except this castle
and that of Hoddam, most of the other old fortalices and
towers are now taken down, or in ruins.
Annandale is a marquisate belonging to the John- Annaa
stones, and the chief of the name. [j
ANNAND, William, dean of Edinburgh in Scot- Annano,
land, the son of William Annand minister of Ayr, was —
born at Ayr in 1633. Five years after, his father
was obliged to quit Scotland with his family, on
account of their loyalty td the king, and adherence
to the episcopal government established by law in that
country. In 1651, young Annand was admitted a
scholar in University college in Oxford ; and though
he was put under the care of a presbyterian tutor,
yet he took all occasions to be present at the ser¬
mons preached by the loyal divines in and near Ox¬
ford. In 1656, being then bachelot of arts, he re¬
ceived holy orders from the hands of Dr Thomas Ful-
war, bishop of Ardfert or Kerry in Ireland, and was
appointed preacher at Weston on the Green near Bi¬
cester in Oxfordshire, where he met with great en¬
couragement from Sir Francis Norris, lord of that
manor. After he had taken the degree of master of
arts, he was presented to the vicarage of Leighton-
Buzzard in Bedfordshire; where he distinguished him¬
self by his edifying manner of preaching, till 1662,
When he went into Scotland, in quality of chaplain to
John earl of Middleton, the king’s high commissioner
to the church of that kingdom. In the latter end of
the year 1663, he was instituted to the Tolbooth church
at Edinburgh, and from thence was removed some
years after to the Tron church of that city, which is
likewise a prebend. In April 1676, he was nomi¬
nated by the king to the deanery of Edinburgh ; and
in 1685, he commenced doctor of divinity in the
university of St. Andrew’s. He wrote, I. Fides Ca-
tholica; or, The Doctrine of the Catholic Church, in
eighteen grand Ordinances, referring to the word, sa¬
craments, and prayer, in purity, number, and nature,
catbolically maintained, and publicly taught, against
heretics of all sort§. Lond. 1671-2, 4to. 2. Solutions
of many proper and profitable questions, suitable to the
nature of each Ordinance, &c. printed with the Fides
Catholica. 3. Panem Quotidianem ; or, A short Dis¬
course, tending to prove the legality, decency, and ex¬
pediency, of set forms of prayers in the Churches of
Christ, with a particular Defence of the Book of Com¬
mon Prayer of the Church of England. Lond. 1661,
4to. 4. Pater Noster, Our Father; or, The Lord’s
Prayer explained, the sense thereof, and duties there¬
in, from Scripture, History, and the Fathers, metho¬
dically cleared, and succinctly opened. Lond. 1670*
8vo. 5. Mysterium Pietatis; or, The Mystery of God¬
liness, &c. Lond. 1672, 8vo. 6. Doxologia; or, Glory
to the Father, the Church’s Hymn, reduced to glo¬
rifying the Trinity. Lond. 1672, 8vo. ^.Dualitas;
or, A twofold subject displayed and opened, conduci-
ble to godliness and peace in order: First, Lex loquens,
the honour and dignity of magistracy, with the duties
thereupon, &c.; Secondly, Duorum Unitas; or, The
agreement of magistracy and ministry, at the election
of the honourable magistrates at Edinburgh and open¬
ing of the Diocesan Synod of the Reverend Clergy there.
Edin. 1674, 4to. Dr Annand died the 13th of June
1689, and was honourably interred in the Grey-Friars
church in Edinburgh.
ANNANO, a strong fort of Italy, in the duchy of
Milan.
ANN [ 383 ] ANN
Anjou Milan. It lias been twice taken by the French ; but
iJ was restored to the duke of Savoy in 1706. It is seat-
Anne. ed on the river Tanaro, in E. Long. 8. 30. N. Lat.
' 44. 4o.
ANNAPOLIS, the chief town in Maryland, in
North America j it stands upon a sort of peninsula on
the west side of the Chesapeake, and is a small town,
but well built. It contained 2000 inhabitants in 1810.
It was once known by the name of Severn. It received
its present name in 1694, when it was made a port
town, and the residence of a collector and naval officer.
W. Long. 76. 10. N. Lat. 38. 25.
Annapolis Royal, a town of Nova Scotia, is seat¬
ed on the bay of Fundy ; and, though a mean place,
was formerly the capital of the province. It has one
of the finest harbours in America, capable of contain¬
ing 1000 vessels at anchor in the utmost security. The
place is also protected by a fort and garrison. At the
bottom of the harbour is a point of land, which divides
two rivers j and on each side there are pleasant mea¬
dows, which in spring and autumn are covered with all
sorts of fresh-water fowl. There is a trade carried on
by the Indians with furs, which they exchange for Eu¬
ropean goods. W. Long. 65. 22. N. Lat. 45. 10.
ANNATES, among ecclesiastical writers, a year’s
income of a spiritual living.
These were, in ancient times, given to the pope
through all Christendom, upon the decease of any bi¬
shop, abbot, or parish clerk, and were paid by his suc¬
cessor. At the Reformation they were taken from the
pope, and vested in the king j and, finally, Queen Anne
restored them to the church, by appropriating them to
the augmentation of poor livings.
ANNE, queen of Great Britain, second daughter of
King James II. by his first wife, Anne Hyde, was born
in 1664. In 1683, she married George, prince of
Denmark, by whom she had several children, but none
of them arrived at the age of maturity. On the death
of King William, she ascended the throne, A. D. 1702,
and her reign comprehends one of the most illustrious
periods of English history. Possessed, however, of a
very feeble character, which did not permit her to act for
herself, this period is the reign of her counsellors, and
favourites j and she exhibited no decided inclination
which could influence state afluirs, except a strong de¬
sire for tory principles, both in church and state. In
the commencement of her reign, being entirely govern¬
ed by the duchess of Marlborough, she was induced
to follow out the premeditated designs of her prede¬
cessors with respect to Louis XIV. king of France, and
for many years repeated success attended her armies
with glory. These were at length, after a fruitless pro¬
traction of hostilities, terminated by the peace of Utrecht,
in 1713. This peace was chiefly owing to the acquir¬
ed influence of a female favourite of the opposite party.
By an act of the legislature in the year 1706, the union of
the English and Scottish nations was formed, which event
contributed more than the former towards the prosperi¬
ty of the kingdom. Yet these successful events prevent¬
ed not the contention of parties which prevailed during
the greatest part of her reign. And about the close of
it, when this spirit was just on the eve of breaking into
a flame, the queen manifested an ardent desire, that the
exiled part of her family should succeed to the throne,
and so conduced towards the superiority of the tories, as Anne,
that they were inclined to push to the utmost extremity —v—
their plans, with respect to the government both of
the church and state. The death of Queen Anne in
August 1714, of a dropsy, in the fiftieth year of her
age, and thirteenth of her reign, was therefore equally
to the disappointment of the one, and to the triumph of
the other. In her private station she supported the
character of an amiable woman, and not devoid of un¬
derstanding, although her indolence and yielding temper
prevented her from exerting it. She was generally well
beloved by her subjects, whose prejudices coincided with
her own, and the title of the Good Queen Anne best ex¬
presses their sentiments. Although her own disposi¬
tions and accomplishments had no share in the honour,
yet this age was rendered a sort of Augustan age of Bri¬
tish literature, on account of the several eminent writers
who flourished under her reign {Gen. Biog.').
Anne Boleyji, queen of Henry VIII. king of Eng¬
land, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, a noblemen of
a powerful family, and numerous alliances. The daugh¬
ter of the duke of Norfolk was her mother, and during
the reign of the former king her father had been
honoured with several embassies. Mary the king’s
sister, who married Lewis XII. king of France, carried
over this lady with her at an early age, where she im¬
bibed the freedom, the vivacity, and the openness of
manners of that nation. After the death of Lewis,
that queen returned to England, and Anne continued to
attend her royal mistress. Having some time after left
her service, she was introduced into the family of the
duchess of Alen^on. In addition to all her acquired
accomplishments, she possessed the greatest personal
elegance, and was highly famed in that age.
History does not explicitly mention whether or not
it was on her account, but upon her return to England
the king expressed his scruples concerning his union
with Catharine of Arragon. Enamoured, however,
of Anne, he expressed his attachment to her j but
she was possessed of too much virtue and policy, to con¬
fer any improper favours. This prudent and vir¬
tuous restraint only increased the passion of Henry;
and placing her at court, he distinguished her by many
marks of royal favour. The impetuous king at length
came to the resolution to divorce his queen, to make
way for his favourite Anne. In this instance, the in¬
jury done to that queen proved the cause of the final *
separation of England from the dominion of the pope.
Various delays and difficulties occurring to the divorce,
Henry privately married Anne during the month of
November- 1532, and in April following he publicly
declared her queen of England. The famous Queen
Elizabeth was the first fruits of this marriage, who was
born the September following. For some time she en¬
joyed a considerable share of the royal favour, and she
made use of that influence in subduing the haughty
prelate Wolsey, and widening the breach between the
king and the pope. But this favour was not of long
continuance •, for the king, every varying in his temper,
and disappointed at her being brought to bed of a dead
male child, imbibed a new passion for Jane Seymour ;
and troubled at the evil inclinations of the Catholics,
he allowed the jealousy of conjugal affection to enter
his bosom, which her thoughtless demeanour tended in
a ^
ANN [ 384 ] ANN
Anne, a great measure to realize. The king’s jealousy still
Annealing, increasing, she was accused ol adultery with several of
* the household officers, and even with her own brother,
Lord Rochfort. She was accordingly tried on a charge
of high treason, and although proof was very scanty,
yet she was condemned to be beheaded } which sen¬
tence was executed in May 1536. Her behaviour on
that occasion was a singular mixture of firmness and
unusual levity. She avowed being guilty of many ex¬
cesses, yet to the last resolutely denied any serious guilt.
Although her character has been greatly depreciated
by several authors, yet a letter written by her to the
king after condemnation, gives a much higher idea of
her character than these partial accounts would endea¬
vour to convey.
The important part which she and her daughter acted
in the Reformation has drawn upon her memory many
malignant and vicious stories, by those of the Catholic
party, who were likewise induced to this by the ex¬
pectation of being conductive to the injury of Protes¬
tantism, by stigmatizing the various characters and mo”
tives of its promoters. These various accounts are,
however, for the most part refuted by facts universally
known, or have no evidence or probability by which
they may be supported. Respecting her innocence of
the charge on which she lost her life, it is a matter of
uncertainty, yet it appears to be less certain that she
was guilty than that her husband was a bloody and ca¬
pricious tyrant. (Gen. Biog.').
St Anne's Day, a festival of the Christian church,
celebrated by the Latins on the 26th of July, but by
the Greeks on the 9th of December. It is kept in ho¬
nour of Anne or Anna, mother of the Virgin Mary.
ANNEALING, by the workmen called nealing, is
particularly used in making glass : it consists in placing
the bottles, &c. whilst hot, in a kind of oven or fur¬
nace, where they are suffered to cool gradually : they
would otherwise be too brittle for use.—Metals are ren¬
dered hard and brittle by hammering: they are there¬
fore made red hot, in order to recover their malleabili¬
ty ; and this is called nealing.
The difference between unannealed and annealed
glass, with respect to brittleness, is very remarkable.
When an unannealed glass vessel is broken, it often
flies into a small powder, with a violence seemingly very
unproportioned to the stroke it has received. In ge¬
neral, it is in greater danger of breaking from a very
slight stroke than from one of some considerable force.
One of those vessels will often resist the effects of a
pistol bullet dropped into it from the height of two or
three feet; yet a grain of sand falling into it will make
it burst into small fragments. This takes place some¬
times immediately on dropping the sand into it: but
often the vessel will stand for several minutes after,
seemingly secure j and then, without any new injury,
it will fly to pieces. If the vessel be very thin, it does
not break in this manner, but seems to possess all the
properties of annealed glass.
The same phenomena are still more strikingly seen in
glass drops or tears. They are globular at one end,
and taper to a small tail at the other. They are the
drops which fall from the melted mass of glass on the
rods on which the bottles are made. They drop into
the tubs of water which are used in the work ; the
greater part of them burst immediately in the water.
When those that remain entire are examined, they dis¬
cover all the properties of unannealed glass in the high¬
est degree. They will bear a smart stroke on the
thick end without breaking; but if the small tail be
broken, they burst into small powder with a loud ex¬
plosion. They appear to burst with more violence,
and the powder is smaller, in an exhausted receiver than
in the open air. When they are annealed, they lose
these properties.
Glass is one of those bodies which increase in bulk
when passing from a fluid to a solid state. When it is
allowed to crystallize regularly, the particles are so ar¬
ranged, that it has a fibrous texture : it is elastic, and
susceptible of long-continued vibrations; but when a
mass of melted glass is suddenly exposed to the cold,
the surface crystallizes, and forms a solid shell round
the interior fluid parts: this prevents them from ex¬
panding when they become solid. They, therefore,
have not the opportunity of a regular crystallization j
but are compressed together with little mutual cohe¬
sion : On the contrary, they press outward to occupy
more space, but are prevented by the external crust.
In consequence of the effort of expansion in the inter¬
nal parts, the greater number of glass drops burst in
cooling j and those which remain entire are not regu¬
larly crystallized. A smart stroke upon them commu¬
nicates a vibration to the whole mass, which is nearly
synchronous in every part: and therefore the effort of
expansion has little more effect than if the body were
at rest j but the small tail and the surface only are re¬
gularly crystallized. If the tail be broken, this com¬
municates a vibration along the crystallized surface,
without reaching the internal parts. By this they are
allowed some expansion j and overcoming the cohesion
of the thin outer shell, they burst it, and are dispersed
in powder.
In an unannealed glass vessel, the same thing takes
place. Sometimes the vibration may continue for a
considerable time before the internal parts overcome
the resistance. If the vessel be very thin, the regular
crystallization extends through the whole thickness j or
at least the quantity of compressed matter in the middle
is so inconsiderable as to be incapable of bursting the
external plate.
By the process of annealing, the glass is kept for
some time in a state approaching to fluidity j the heat
increases the bulk of the crystallized part, and renders
it so soft, that the internal parts have the opportunity
of expanding and forming a regular crystallization.
A similar process is now used for rendering kettles
and other vessels of cast iron less brittle : of it the same
explanation may be given. The greater number of me¬
tals diminish in bulk when they pass from a fluid to a
solid state 5 iron, on the contrary, expands.
When cast iron is broken, it has the appearance of
being composed of grains: forged or bar iron appears
to consist of plates. Forged iron has long been pro¬
cured, by placing a mass of cast iron under large ham¬
mers, and making it undergo violent and repeated com¬
pression. A process is now used for converting cast
iron into forged, by heat alone. The cast iron is pla¬
ced in an air furnace, and kept for several hours in a
degree of heat, by which it is brought near to a fluid
state. It is then allowed to cool gradually, and is
found to be converted into forged iron. This process
Annealing
ANN
[
Annealing- 13 c°P^uc^e<l under a patent 5 although, If Reaumur’s
v--. v—m' experiments upon cast iron be consulted, it will appear
not to be a new discovery.
By these experiments, it is ascertained, that if cast
iron be exposed for any length of time to a heat consi¬
derably below its melting point, the texture and pro¬
perties are not changed : but if it be kept in a heat
near the melting point, the surface soon becomes lamel-
lated like forged iron ; and the lamellated structure ex¬
tends farther into the mass in proportion to the length
of time in which it is exposed to that degree of heat.
When it is continued for a sufficient time, and then al¬
lowed to cool gradually, it is found to possess the la¬
mellated structure throughout.
Cast iron, then, is brittle, because it has not had the
opportunity of crystallizing regularly. When it is ex¬
posed to cold while fluid, the surface becoming solid,
prevents the inner parts from expanding and arran¬
ging themselves into regular crystals. When cast iron
is brought near to the melting point, and continued for
a sufficient length of time in that degree of heat, the
particles have the opportunity of arranging themselves
into that form of crystals by which forged iron is di¬
stinguished, and by which it possesses cohesion and all
its properties.
T. here appears, therefore, to be no other essential
difference between forged and cast iron, except what
arises from the crystallization. Cast iron is indeed of¬
ten not sufficiently purified from other substances which
are mixed with the calx. It appears also to contain a
considerable quantity of calx unreduced ; for during
the process for converting it into forged iron, by heat
alone, a pale flame arises from the metal till near the
end of the process. This is owing to fixed air which
the heat forces off from the calx. The expulsion of
this air reduces the calx, and therefore frees the metal
from that injurious mixture.
That this explanation of the annealing of iron is
probable, appears also from the well-known fact of
forged iron being incomparably more difficult of fusion
than cast iron. A piece of forged iron requires a very
violent heat to melt it 5 but when it is reduced to a
small powder, it melts in a much lowrer degree of heat.
Iron diminishes in bulk when it passes into a fluid state,
while most other metals increase in volume. The ex¬
pansion which heat occasions in bringing them*to their
melting point, will be favourable to their fluidity, by
gradually bringing the particles to the same state of
separation in which they are when the mass is fluid j
but the expansion of iron by heat removes it farther
from that state, and keeps it in the state which is fa¬
vourable to the continuance of it in a crystallized form.
It will not melt till the heat expand it so much that
the cohesion of crystallization be overcome. When it
is reduced to a minute powder before it be exposed to
the heat, it melts sooner. The crystals having been
destroyed, that cohesion has ho effect in preventing it
from passing into a state of fluidity.
Upon the same principles may be explained the al¬
most peculiar property of welding possessed by iron, and
the conversion of forged iron into steel.
But perhaps they may also be applied to platina, a
metal which has lately gained much attention. It
possesses some of the properties of iron. It is still more
difficult of fusion than that metal. It is susceptible of
Vol. II. Part I. t
3S5 ] ANN
being welded. The natural grains of it can scarcely Annealinr
be melted in the focus of the most powerful burning |j
glass; but when it is dissolved in aqua regia, and pre- Annesley,
cipitated by potash, it has been melted in small glo- v—-J
buies by the blowpipe. When precipitated by mu¬
riate ot ammoniac, it has been melted in a considerable
mass in the heat of a furnace $ but is said to be brittle.
Many attempts have been made to procure a mass of
it in a malleable state, but without success. It is said
that the process is now discovered by a chemist in Spain.
I he treatment of the metal is probably very simple.
Perhaps it only consists in precipitating it in a minute
powder from aqua regia, exposing it to a strong heat
which melts it, and keeping it for some time in a state
nearly fluid, that it may, like iron, crystallize regular¬
ly : by this it will possess all its metallic properties.
See Annealing, Supplement.
ANNECY, a city of Savoy, seated between Cham-
berry and Geneva, on the banks of a lake of the same
name, from whence run .several brooks, which flow
through the town, and uniting at length, form a river.
There are piazzas in most of the streets of the town,
which serve to shelter the inhabitants from rain. It
has several collegiate and parish churches, as well as
tonvents for men and women. The lake is about nine
miles long and four broad. E. Long. 6. 12. N. Lat.
45- 53-
ANNESLEY, Arthur, earl of Anglesey, and
lord privy seal in the reign of King Charles II. was the
son of Sir Francis Annesley, Baronet, Lord Mount-
Norris, and Viscount Valentia, in Ireland j and was
born at Dublin on the 10th of July 1614. He was
for some time at the university of Oxford, and after¬
wards studied the law at Lincoln’s Inn. He had a
considerable share in the public transactions of the last
century j for in the beginning of the civil war he sat
in the parliament held at Oxford 5 but afterwards be¬
came reconciled to the opposite party, and was sent
commissioner to Ulster, to oppose the designs of the re¬
bel Owen Roe O’Neal. He engaged in several other
affairs with great success. He was president of the
council of state after the death of Oliver, and was prin¬
cipally concerned in bringing about the Restoration j
soon after which, King Charles II. raised him to the
dignity of a baron, by the title of Lord Annesley, of
Newport-Pagnel, Bucks j and a short time after he was
made earl of Anglesey. During that reign he was
employed in some very important affairs, was made
treasurer of the navy, and afterwards lord privy seal.
In October 1680, his lordship was charged by one
Dangerfield, in an information delivered upon oath,
at the bar of the house of commons, -with endeavour¬
ing to stifle evidence in relation to the Popish plot, and
to promote the belief of a Presbyterian one. The un¬
easiness he received from this attack did not prevent
his speaking his opinion freely of those matters in the
house of lords, particularly in regard to the Popish plot.
About the same time he answered the Lord Castle-
haven’s Memoirs, in which that nobleman endeavour¬
ed to paint the Irish rebellion in the lightest colours j
and a sharp dispute was raised, which ended in the
seal’s being taken from him. He was a person of -•
great abilities, had uncommon learning, and was well
acquainted with the constitution and laws of England.
He wrote, besides his Animadversions on Castlehaven’s
3 C Memoirs,
ANN C 386 ] ANN
Aimes!ey Memoirs, I. The Privileges of the Plouse of Lords and
[I Commons stated. 2. A Discourse on the House of
Anuihila- Lords, g. Memoirs. 4. The History of the Troubles in
, tlon' ■ Ireland, from the rebellion in 1611 till the Restoration.
, 5. Truth unveiled, in behalf of the Church of Eng¬
land j—and some other works. He died in April, 1686,
in the 73d year of his age ; and was succeeded by his
son James.
ANNEXATION, in Law, a term used to imply
the uniting of lands or rents to the crown.
ANNIHILATION, the act of reducing any cre¬
ated being into nothing.
Christians, Heathens, Jews, Siamese, Persians, di¬
vines, philosophers, &c. have their peculiar systems,
sentiments, conjectures, not to say dreams, concerning
annihilation j and we find great disputes among them
about the reality, the possibility, the means, measures,
prevention, ends, &c. of annihilation.
The first notions of the production of a thing from,
or reduction of it to, nothing, Dr Burnet shows, arose
from the Christian theology) the words creation and a?i-
nihilation, in the sense now given to them, having been
equally unknown to the Hebrews, the Greeks, and the
Latins.
The ancient philosophers in effect denied all annihi¬
lation as well as creation, resolving all the changes in
the world into new modifications, without supposing
the production of any thing new, or destruction of the
old. By daily experience, they saw compounds dis¬
solved $ and that in their dissolution nothing perished
but their union or connexion of parts : when in death
the body and soul were separated, the man they held
was gone, but that the spirit remained in its original the
great soul of the world, and the body in its earth from
whence it came j these were again wrought by nature
into new compositions, and entered new states of being
which had no relation to the former.
The Persian bramins hold, that after a certain period
of time, consisting of 71 joogs, God not only annihilates
the whole universe, but every thing else, angels, souls,
spirits, and all, by which he returns to the same state he
was in before the creation j but that, having breathed a
while, he goes to work again, and a new creation arises,
to subsist 71 joogs more, and then to be annihilated in its
turn. Thus they hold there have been almost an infi¬
nite number of worlds: but how many joogs are elapsed
since the last creation, they cannot certainly tell j only
in an almanack written in the Shanscrit language in
1670, the world is said to be then 3,892,771 years old
from the last creation.
The Siamese heaven is exactly the hell of some Soci-
nians and other Christian writers $ who, shocked with
the horrible prospect of eternal torments, have taken
refuge in the system of annihilation. This system seems
countenanced by Scripture j for that the words death,
destruction, and perishing, whereby the punishment of
the wicked is most frequently expressed in Scripture, do
most properly import annihilation and an utter end of
being. To this Tillotson answers, that these words, as
well as those corresponding to them in other languages,
are often used, both in Scripture and other writings,
to signify a state of great misery and suffering, without
the utter extinction of the miserable. Thus God is of¬
ten said in Scripture to bring destruction on a nation,
when he sends judgment upon them, but without ex-
3 .
terminating or making an end of them. So, in other 4nni],j]a
languages, it is frequent, perishing, to express a per- tion.
son’s being made miserable} as in that known passage in v—y—
Tiberius’s letter to the Roman senate: Ita ms dii, dece-
que omnes, pejus perdant, quam hodie perire me sentio.
As to the word death, a state of misery which is as bad,
or worse than death, may properly enough be called by
that name} and thus the punishment of wicked men af¬
ter the day of judgment is in the book of Revelation
frequently called the secoiid death.
Some Christian writers allow a long time of the most
terrible torments of sinners ; and after that suppose
that there shall be an utter end ef their being. Of
this opinion Irenseus appears to have been } who, ac¬
cording to M. du Pin, taught that the souls, at least of
the wicked, would not subsist eternally } but that, after
having undergone their torments for a certain period,
they would at last cease to be at all. But Tillemont,
Petit, Didier, and others, endeavour to defend Irenseus
from this imputation, as being too favourable to the
wicked.
It has been much disputed among divines, whether,
at the consummation of all things, this earth is to be
annihilated, or only purified, and fitted for the habita¬
tion of some new order of beings. Gerard in his Com¬
mon Places, and Hakewil in his Apology, contend ear¬
nestly for a total abolition or annihilation. Ray, Cal-
met, and others, think the system of renovation or resti¬
tution more probable, and more consonant to Scripture,
reason, and antiquity. The fathers who have treated on
the question are divided; some holding that the universe
shall not be annihilated, but only its external face
changed ; others asserting, that the substance of it shall
be destroyed.
How widely have the sentiments of mankind difl’ered
as to the possibility and impossibility of annihilation!
According to some, nothing so difficult; it requires the
infinite power of the Creator to effect it: some go fur¬
ther, and seem to put it out of the power of God him¬
self. According to others nothing so easy : Existence
is a state of violence; all things are continually endea¬
vouring to return to their primitive nothing; it requires
no power at all; it will do itself; nay, what is more,
it requires an infinite power to prevent it.
Many authors consider preservation as a continual re¬
production of a thing, which, subsisting no longer of it¬
self, would every moment return into nothing. Gassendi
on the contrary asserts, that the world may indeed be
annihilated by the same power which first created it,
but that to continue it there is no occasion for any power
of preservation.
Some divines, of which number the learned Bishop
King seems to be, hold annihilation for the greatest of
all evils, woi’se than even the utmost torments of hell
flames; whilst others, with some of the eastern philoso¬
phers, acknowledge annihilation for the ultimate pitch
of happiness human nature is capable of; that sovereign
good, that absolute beatitude, so long vainly sought for
by the philosophers, is found here. No wonder it had
been so long concealed ; for who would have thought of
looking for the sunimum bonum, where others have
placed the sum of misery ?
The said prelate proposes it as a question, Whether
suffering eternal torments be a greater evil than not ex¬
isting ? He thinks it highly probable, that the damned
will
*
ANN [ 387 1 ANN
Innihila* vrill be such fools, that feeling their own misery in the
tion most exquisite degree, they will rather applaud their own
I) conduct, and choose to be, and to be what they are, ra-
\nnobon. ^er jjian no^ to jje a]|. fon^ 0f their condition, how-
" T ' " ' ever wretched, like people em-aged, they will persist in
their former sentiments without opening their eyes to
their folly, and persevere by way of indignation and re¬
venge. Mr Bayle refutes him on this head $ but might,
one would think, have saved himself the trouble.
The Talapoins hold it the supreme degree of happi¬
ness to have the soul totally annihilated, and freed from
the burden and slavery of transmigrations. They speak
of three Talapoins, who, after a great number of trans¬
migrations, became gods; and when arrived at this state,
procured this further reward of their merit, to be anni¬
hilated. The ultimate reward of the highest perfection
man can arrive at is neiurepan, or annihilation ; which
at length is granted to those who are perfectly pure and
good, after their souls have wandered many thousand
years through various bodies.
ANNI NOBILES, in Law, denotes the marriageable
age of a woman, viz. after she has arrived at twelve.
ANNIVERSARY, the annual return of any re¬
markable day. Anniversary days, in old times, more
particularly denoted those days in which an office was
yearly performed for the souls of the deceased, or the
martyrdom of the saints was yearly celebrated in the
church.
ANNOBON, a small island of Africa, on the coast
of Loango, belonging to the Portuguese. It lies in
E. Long. 5. 10. S. Lat. 1. 50. and receives its name
from being discovered on New-year’s-day. According
to Pyrard, it is about live or six French leagues in com¬
pass ; but Baudrand says, it is ten leagues round. Here
are two high mountains, the tops of which being con¬
tinually covered with clouds, occasion frequent rains.
On the south-east of the island are two rocks ; one of
which is low7, and upon a level with the surface of the
sea ; the other higher and larger, but both danger¬
ous in the night to shipping; but between them the
channel is deep and clear. These rocks are inhabited
by vast numbers of birds, so tame, that the sailors fre¬
quently catch them with their hands. On the same
side of the island is a convenient watering place at the
foot of a rivulet, which tumbles from the mountains
down to a valley covered with orange and citron trees,
&c. and aft’ording a pleasant and refreshing shade ; but
the road on the north-west side is difficult and danger¬
ous, though most frequented by ships who have no in¬
tention of touching upon the continent. In either
place it is difficult to take in a sufficient quantity of
Water, on account of the violent breaking of the sea,
and a stone intrenchment erected by the negroes, from
which they annoy all strangers that attempt to land.
The true road for shipping lies on the north-east side,
where they may anchor in seven, ten, thirteen, or six¬
teen fathoms, on a fine sand close to the land, opposite
to the village where the negroes have thrown up their
intrenchments.
The climate is wholesome, and the air clear and se¬
rene for the greatest part of the year. Every part of
the island is watered by pleasant brooks and fresh wa¬
ter springs, which, however, at the new and full moons,
or in all high tides, acquire a brackishness. Ihe banks
of every rivulet are covered with palms, whence the in¬
habitants extract their wine by incision. Here are a Annobou
number of fertile valleys, which produce Turkey corn, ||
rice, millet, yams, potatoes, &c. and afford pasture for Annual,
abundance of oxen, sheep, goats, 8tc. Poultry and fish ’ v
also abound here: but the only mercantile production
is cotton, which is esteemed equal in quality to any pro¬
duced in India, though the quantity is small.
In the year 1605, the Dutch admiral Matelief
found 200 negroes, and two Portuguese, on Annobon,
most of them able to bear arms, expert in the use of
them, and trained up in military discipline. La Croix:
says, it has a town opposite to the road that contains
above 100 houses, the whole surrounded by a parapet.
Most of their dwellings are cane huts. In the whole
island there is not a single house built of stone, and
only two of wood, which belong to the Portuguese.
All the inhabitants are meanly clothed ; the women
go bareheaded, and have also the upper part of the
body naked, modesty being defended by a piece of
linen wrapt under their stomach, and falling down in
the form of a petticoat, or wide apron, to the knees.
As to the men, they wear only a linen girdle round
the loins, with a small flap before. The women carry
their children on their backSj and suckle them over
the shoulder. All the inhabitants are subject to the
Portuguese governor, who is the chief person in the •
island ; at the same time that the negroes have their
own chief subordinate to him. They are all rigid Ca¬
tholics, having either been compelled or persuaded by
the arguments of the Portuguese to embrace that faith ;
and, like all other converts, they are bigotted in propor¬
tion to the novelty of the belief, and their ignorance of
the true tenets.
ANNO Domini, i. e. the year of our Lord ; the
computation of time from our Saviour’s incarnation.
ANNOMINATION, in Rhetoric, the same with
what is otherwise called/)aro«owos/«. SccParonomasia.
ANNONA, in Roman antiquity, denotes provision
for a year of all sorts, as of flesh, wine, &c. but especi¬
ally of corn. Annona is likewise the allowance of oil,
salt, bread, flesh, corn, wine, hay, and straw, which
was annually provided by the contractors for the main¬
tenance of an army.
Annona, the Custard Apple. See Botany Index.
ANNON/E PRALFECTUS, in antiquity, an extraor¬
dinary magistrate, whose business it was to prevent a
scarcity of provisions, and to regulate the weight and
fineness of bread.
ANNON AY, a small town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Ardeche, formerly Upper Vivarais, seated on
the x-iver Deunre. E. Long. 4. 52. N. Lat. 45. 15.
ANNOT, a small city on the mountains of Provence
in France. E. Long. “]. O. N. Lat. 44. 4.
ANNOTATION, in matters of literature, a brief
commentary, or remark, upon a book or writing, in
order to clear up some passage, or draw some conclusion
from it.
ANNOTTA. See Anotta.
ANNUAL, in a general sense, an appellation given
to whatever returns every year, or is always performed
within that space of time.
Annual Motion of the Earth. See Astronomy.
Annual Leaves, are such leaves as come up afresh
in the spring, and perish in winter. These stand opposed
to Evergreens.
3 C 2
Annuae
ANN [
Annual Annual Plants, called also simply annuals, are such
II as only live their year, i. e. come up in the spring and
,Annuity-, die again in the autumn j and accordingly are to be
recruited every year.
ANNUALRENT is used, in Scots Law, to denote
a yearly profit due by a debtor in a sum of mony to
a creditor for the use of it.
Right of Annualrent, m Scots Law, the original
method of burdening lands with a yearly payment for
the loan of money, before the taking of interest for
money was allowed by statute.
ANNUEL of Norway, of which mention is made
in the acts of parliament of King James III. was an
annual payment of a hundred merks sterling, which
the kings of Scotland were obliged to pay to the kings
of Norway, in satisfaction for some pretensions which
the latter had to the Scottish kingdom, by virtue of a
conveyance made thereof by Malcom Kenmore, who
usurped the crown after his brother’s decease. This
annuel was first established in 1266: in consideration
whereof the Norwegians renounced all title to the suc¬
cession to the isles of Scotland. It was paid till the
year 1468, when the annuel, with all its arrears, was
renounced in the contract of marriage between King
James III. and Margaret daughter of Christian I. king
of Norway, Denmark, and Sweden.
ANNUITY, a sum of money, payable yearly, half-
yearly, or quarterly, to continue a certain number of
years, for ever, or for life.
An annuity is said to be in arrear, when it continues
unpaid after it falls due. And an annuity is said to be
in reversion, when the purchaser, upon paying the price,
does not immediately enter upon possession $ the an¬
nuity not commencing till some time after.
Interest on annuities may be computed either in the
way of simple or compound interest. But compound
interest being found most equitable, both for buyer and
seller, the computation by simple interest is universally
disused. J
I. Annuities for a certain time.
Problem i. Annuity, rate, and time, given ; to
find the amount, or sum of yearly payments, and inte¬
rest.
Rule. Make 1 the first term of a geometrical series,
and the amount of il. for a year the common ratio;
continue this series to as many terms as there are years
m the question, and the sum of tkis series is the
amount of il. annuity for the given years3 which, mul¬
tiplied by the given annuity, will produce the amount
sought.
Example. An annuity of 40I. payable yearly, is
forborn and unpaid till the end of 5 years: What will
then be due, reckoning compound interest at 5 per cent,
on all the payments then in arrear P
1 _ 5 5 4 5
1 : 1.05 : r.1025 : 1.157625 : 1.21550625? whose
sum is 5-52563i25l.j and 5.25563125 x 40 =
221.02525—221I. os. 6d. the amount sought.
. ^ie am°unt may also be found thus : Multiply the
given annuity by the amount of il. for a year 3 to the
product add the given annuity, and the sum is the
amount m two years 5 which multiply by the amount
2
388 ] ANN
of il. for a year; to the product add the given annui¬
ty, and the sum is the amount in 3 years, 8tc. The
former question wrought in this manner follows :
40 am. in 1 year. 126.1 am. in 3 years.
1.05
Annuity.
I.05
42.OO
40
82 am.
1.05
I32>4°5
40
in 2 years.
172.405 am. in 4 years.
1.05
86.10
40
181.02525
40
126.1 am. in 3 years. 221.02525 am. in 5 years.
If the given time be years and quarters, find the
amount for the whole years, as above : then find the
amount of il. for the given quarters; by which multi¬
ply the amount for the whole years ; and to the product
add such a part of the annuity as the given quarters are
of a year.
If the given annuity be payable half yearly, or quar-
terly, find the amount of il. for half a year or a quar¬
ter ; by which find the amount for the several half-
years or quarters, in the same manner as the amount
for the several years is found above.
Prob. 2. Annuity, rate, and time given : to find
the present worth, or sum of money that will purchase
the annuity.
Rule. Find the amount of the given annuity by the
former problem ; and then, by compound interest, find
the present worth of this amount, as the sum due at the
end of the given time.
Examp. What is the present worth of an annuity
of 40I. to continue 5 years, discounting at 5 per cent,
compound interest ?
By the former problem, the amount of the given an¬
nuity for 5 years, at 5 per cent, is 221.02525; and by
compound interest, the amount of il. for 5 years, at
5 per cent, is 1.2762815625.
And, 1.2762815625)221.02525000(173.179=
I73]> 3s* 7^- the present worth sought.
I he present worth may be also found thus: By com¬
pound interest, find the present worth of each year by
itself, and the sum of these is the present worth sought.
The former example done in this way follows :
1.2762815625)40.000000000(31.3410
i>2I55°625)4o.ooooooo (32.9080
!.157625)40.00000
1.1025)40.000
1.05)40.0
Present worth
(34-5535
(36.2811
(38.0952
173.1788
It the annuity to be purchased be in reversion, find
first the present worth of the annuity, as commencing,
immediately, by any of the methods taught above ; and.
then, by compound interest, find the present worth of
that present worth, rebating for the time in reversion ;
and this last present worth is the answer.j
Examp.
ANN [ 389 ] ANN
Annuity. Examp. What is the present tvorth of a yearly pen-
—v—; sion or rent of 75I. to continue 4 years, but not to com¬
mence till three years hence, discounting at 5 per cent. ?
.05 : 1 : : 75 : 1500
1.05 X 1-05 X 1.05 X 1.05=1.21550625
1.21550625)1500.00000(1234.05371
1500
1234.05371
265.94629, present worth of the annuity, if it
was to commence immediately.
1.05X i*05Xi.05=i.157625 L. s. d.
1.157625)265.94629(229.7344=229 1
Pros. 3. Present worth, rate, and time given j to
find the annuity.
Rule. By the preceding problem, find the present
worth of il. annuity for the rate and time given j and
then say, As the present worth thus found to il. an¬
nuity, so the present Avorth given to its annuity $ that
is, divide the given present worth by that of il. an¬
nuity.
Examp. What annuity, to continue 5 years, will
173I. 3s. 7d. purchase, allowing compound interest at
5 per cent. ?
.05:1:: 1 : 20I.
1.05 X 1.05 X 1.05 X 1.05 X 1.05=1.276281562 5
1.2762815625)20.00000000(15.6705
20
t5-67°5
4.3295 present worth of il. annuity.
4.329)173.179(40!. annuity. Ans.
II. Annuities for ever, or freehold Estates.
In freehold estates, commonly called annuities in fee-
simple, the things chiefly to be considered are, 1. The
annuity or yearly rent. 2. The price or present Avorth.
3. The rate of interest. The questions that usually oc¬
cur on this head will fall under one or other of the fol-
loAving problems.
Prob. 1. Annuity and rate of interest given, to find
the price.
As the rate of il. to il. so the rent to the price.
Examp. The yearly rent of a small estate is 40I.:
What is it worth in ready money, computing interest
at 3^ per cent. ?
As .035 : 1 : : 40 : 1142.857142=Z. 1142 17 if.
Pros. 2. Price and rate of interest given, to find the
rent or annuity.
As il. to its rate, so the price to the rent.
Examp. A gentleman purchases an estate for 4000I.
and has 4-f per cent for his money : Required the rent.
As 1 : .045 : : 4000 : 1 : 180I. rent sought.
Prob. 3. Price and rent given, to find the rate of
interest.
As the price to the rent, so t to the rate.
Examp. An estate of 180I. yearly rent is bought
for 4000I.: What rate of interest has the purchaser for
his money ?
As 4000 : 1 Sol. : : I : .045 rate sought. Annuit>
Prob. 4. The rate of interest given, to find Iioav v——
many years purchase an estate is Avorth.
Divide 1 by the rate, and the quot is the number of
years purchase the estate is worth.
Examp. A gentleman is willing to purchase an
estate, provided he can have 2f per cent, for his money :
How many years purchase may he offer ?
.025)1.000(40 years purchase. Ans.
Prob. 5. The number of years purchase, at which
an estate is bought or sold, given j to find the rate of
interest.
Divide 1 by the number of years purchase, and the
quot is the rate of interest.
Examp. A gentleman gives 40 years purchase for
an estate: What interest has he for his money ?
4o)i.ooo(.025 rate sought.
The computations hitherto are all performed by a
single division or multiplication, and it will scarcely be
perceived that the operations are conducted by the rules
of compound interest 5 but when a reversion occurs, re¬
course must be had to tables of annuities on compound,
interest.
Prob. 6. The rate of interest, and the rent of a free¬
hold estate in reversion, given j to find the present Avorth
or value of the reversion.
By Prob. 1. find the price or present Avorth of the
estate, as if possession was to commence presently 5 and
then, by the Tables, find the present value of the given
annuity, or rent, for the years prior to the commence¬
ment $ subtract this value from the former value, and
the remainder is the value of the reversion.
Examp. A has the possession of an estate of 130I.
per annum, to continue 20 years $ B has the reversion
of the same estate, from that time for ever : What is
the value of the estate, what the value of the 20 years
possession, and Avhatthe value of the reversion, reckon¬
ing compound interest at six per cent. ?
By Prob. 1. .06)130.00(2166.^666 value of the estate.
By Tables 1491.0896 val. of the possession.
675.577° val. of the reversion.
Prob. 7. The price or value of a reversion, the time
prior to the commencement, and rate of interest, given,
to find the annuity or rent.
By the Tables, find the amount of the price of the
reversion for the years prior to the commencement; and
then by Prob. 3. find the annuity which that amount
will purchase.
Examp. The reversion of a freehold estate, to com¬
mence 20 years hence, is bought for 675.577I. com¬
pound interest being allowed at 6 per cent. : Required
the annuity or rent ?
By the Tables the amount of 675.577I. ~\ L
for 20 years, at 6 per cent, is } 2166 0
By Prob. 2. 2166.$ X *06=130.0 rent sought.
III. Life Annuities.
The value of annuities for life is determined from
observations made on the bills of mortality. Dr Halley, ,
Mb, t
ANN
ANN [ 39° 1
Annuity. Mr Simpson, and Mons. de Moivre, are gentlemen of
■—-v——-' distinguished merit in calculations of this kind.
Dr Halley had recourse to the bills of mortality at
Breslaw, the capital of Silesia, as a proper standard for
the other parts of Europe, being a place pretty central,
at a distance from the sea, and not much crowded with
traffickers or foreigners. He pitches upon 1000 per¬
sons all horn in one year, and observes how many of
these were alive every year, from their birth to the ex¬
tinction of the last, and consequently how many died
each year, as in the first of the following Tables; which
is well adapted to Europe in general. But in the city
of London there is observed to be a greater disparity in
the births and burials than in any other place, owing
probably to the vast resort of people thither, in the way
of commerce, from all parts of the known world. Mr
Simpson, therefore, in order to have a table particularly
suited to this populous city, pitches upon 1280 persons
all born in the same year, and records the number re¬
maining alive each year till none were in life.
It may not be improper, however, to observe, that
however perfect tables of this sort may be in themselves,
and however well adapted to any particular dimate,
yet the conclusions deduced from them must always be
uncertain, being nothing more than probabilities, or
conjectures drawn from the usual period of human life.
And the practice of buying and selling annuities on
lives, by rules founded on such principles, may be just¬
ly considered as a sort of lottery or chance work, in
which the parties concerned must often be deceived.
But as estimates and computations of this kind are now
become fashionable, we shall subjoin some brief account
of such as appear most material.
Annuity
Mr Simpson’s Table on the Bills of Mortality at
London.
Dr Halley’s Table on the Bills of Mortality at
Breslaw.
Age.
Pers.
liv.
Age
Pers.
liv.
Age.
Pers.
liv.
Age.
Pers,
liv.
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
14
*5
16
17
18
J9
20
21
22
23
1000
855
798
760
732
710
692
680
670
661
653
646
640
634
628
622
616
610
604
598
592
586
579
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
573
567
560
553
546
539
531
523
5i5
5^7
499
490
481
472
463
454
445
436
427
417
407
397
387
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
377
367
357
346
335
324
3!3
302
292
282
272
262
252
242
232
222
212
202
192
182
172
162
x52
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
142
I3I
120
109
98
88
78
68
58
49
4i
34
28
23
20
J5
11
8
5
3
1
From the preceding Tables the probability of the
continuance or extinction of human life is estimated as
follows.
1. The probability that a person of a given age shall
live a certain number of years, is measured by the pro¬
portion which the number of persons living at the pro¬
posed age has to the difference between the said number
and the number of persons living at the given age.
Thus, if it be demanded, what chance a person of
40 years has to live seven years longer? from 445, the
number of persons living at 40 years of age in Dr Hal¬
ley’s table, subtract 377, the number of persons living
at 47 years of age, and the remainder 68 is the num¬
ber of persons that died during these seven years; and
the probability or chance that the person in the ques¬
tion shall live these 7 years is as 377 to 68, or nearly
as 5^ to 1. But, by Mr Simpson’s table, the chance
is something less than that of 4 to 1.
2. If the year to which a person of a given age has
an equal chance of arriving before he dies, be required,
it may be found thus : Find half the number of persons
living at the given age in the tables, and in the column
of age you have the year required.
Thus, if the question be put with respect to a per¬
son of 30 years of age, the number of that age in Dr
Halley’s table is 531, the half whereof is 265, which
is found in the table between 57 and 58 years; so that
a person of 30 years has an equal chance of living be¬
tween 27 and 28 years longer.
3. By the tables, the premium of insurance upon
lives may in some measure be regulated.
Thus,
ANN [ 391
Annuity. Thus, the chance that a person of 25 years has to
■v—-1 live another year, is, by Dr Halley’s table, as 80 to
1 j but the chance that a person of 50 years has to live
a year longer is only 30 to 1 ; and, consequently, the
premium for insuring the former ought to be to the pre¬
mium for insuring the latter for one year, as 30 to 80,
or as 3 to 8.
Pros. f. To find the value of an annuity of ll. for
the life of a single person of any given age.
Mons. de Moivre, by observing the decrease of the
probabilities of life, as exhibited in the table, compo¬
sed an algebraic theorem or canon, for computing the
value of any annuity for life $ which canon we here lay
down by way of
Rule. Find the complement of life 5 and, by the
tables, find the value of ll. annuity for the years de¬
noted by the said complement $ multiply this value by
the amount of ll. for a year, and divide the product
by the complement of life $ then subtract the quot from
1 ; divide the remainder by the interest of ll. for a
year $ and this last quot will be the value of the an¬
nuity sought, or, in other words, the number of years
purchase the annuity is worth.
Examp. What is the worth of an annuity of ll. for
an age of 50 years, interest at 5 per cent. ?
86
50 age given.
36 complement of life.
By the tables, the value is 16.5468
Amount of ll. for a year, 1.05
827340
165468
Complement of life, 36)17.374i4o(*4^2^J5
From unity, viz. 1.000000
Subtract .482615
Interest of il. •05).5i7385(io.3477 value sought.
By the preceding problem is constructed the follow¬
ing table.
The value of ll. annuity for a single life.
Age.
9= 10
8=11
7= 12
6= 14
*5
16
5=i7
18
19
4= 20
21
22
23
3=24
25
3 per c
19.87
I9-74
19.60
19.47
I9-33
19.19
i9°5
18 90
18.76
18.61
18.46
18.30
18.15
17.99
17.66
3-zperc.
18.27
18.16
i8.°5
17.94
17.82
17.71
17-S9
17-49
17.21
I7*°9
16.96
i6.83
16.69
16.56
15.42
4 per e
16.88
16.79
16.64
16.60
16.50
i6-4i
16.31
16.21
16.10
lS*99
15.89
i5-67
I5-55
'S43
I5-3I
^perc.
I5-67
15-59
I5-5I
15-43
15-35
I5-27
'S''9
I5-10
I5-01
14.92
i4-83
I4-73
14.64
I4-54
I4-44
14-34
5 per c.
14.60
r4-53
14.47
14.41
I4-34
14.27
14.20
14.12
14.05
I3-97
13.89
13.81
13-72
13.64
I3-55
13.46
6per c,
12.80
I2-75
12.70
12.65
I 2.60
12-55
12. CO
I2-45
12.40.
12-35
12.30
12.20
12.15
12.10
12.00
11-95
ANN
The value of ll. annuity for a single life.
Age.
26
27
28
29
3°
2=31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
l=39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
5°
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
3 per c,
I7-5°
17.16
16.98
16.80
16.62
16.44
16.25
16.06
15-86
i5-6?
15.46
I5-29
I5-°5
14.84
3^perc.
16.28
16.13
15.98
i5-83
15.68
*5-53
I5-37
15.21
I5-°5
14.89
14.63
14.41
l4’19
13.96
I3-73
I3-49
I3-25
13.01
12.76
12.51
12.26
12.00
II-73
11.46
11.18
10.90
10.61
10.32
10.03
9-73
9.42
9.11
8.79
8.46
8.13
66 7.79
67
63
69
70
71
72
73
74
7 ^
7-45
7.10
6-75
6.38
6.01
i 5-63
5-25
4-85
4.4?
I4-7I
14.52
I4-34
14.16
13.98
I3-79
I3-59
13.40
13-20
12.99
12.78
12.56
12.36
12.14
11.92
11169
”•45
11.20
10.9s
10.69
10.44
10.18
9.91
9.64
9-36
9.08
8.79
8.49
8.19
7.88
4 per c.iA-^perc. 5 per c. 6 per c
15.19
15.04
I4-94
14.81
14.68
I4-54
I4-4I
I4-27
14.12
13.98
13.82
i3-67
13-52
l3-36
13.20
13.02
12.85
12.68
12.50
12.32
12.13
11.94
11.74
II-54
”-34
”.13
10.92
10.70
IO-47
10.24
10.01
9-77
9-52
9-27
9.01
8-75
8.48
8.20
7.92
7-63
7-56
7.24
6.91
6-57
6.22
5-87
5-5i
5-I4
4-77
4-3 8
7-33
7.02
6-75
6-39
6.06
i4-23
14.12
14.02
13.90
I3-79
i3-67
I3-55
I3-43
13.04
12.90
12-77
12.63
12.48
I2-33
12.18
12.02
11.87
u.70
”•54
”•37
11.19
11.00
10.82
10.64
10.44
10.24
10.04
9.82
9.61
9-39
9.16
8-93
8.69
S-44
8.19
7-94
7.67
7-39
x3-37
!3.28
13.iS
13-°9
12.99
12.88
12.78
12.67
12. c6
I2-45
I2-33
12.21
12.09
11.96
11.83
11.70
”•57
11-43
11.29
11.14
10.99
10.84
10.68
10. ci
IO-35
10.17
9.99
9.82
9-63
9-44
9-24
9.04
8.83
8.61
8-39
8.16
7-93
7.68
7-43
7.18
7.12
6.83
6-54
6.23
5-92
5-72
5-38
5.02
4.66
4.29
5-59
5-26
4.92
4-57
4.22
6.91
6.64
6.36
6.07
5-77
5-47
5-I5
4.82
4.49
4.14
11.05
11.00
10.90
10.80'
10.70
IO-55
IO-45
IO-35
10.25
10.10
10.00
9-85
9-75
9.60
9-45
9-3°
9.20
9.00
8.85
8.70
8-55
8-35
8.20
8.co
7.80
7.60
7.40
7.20
6-95
6-75
6.50
6.25
6.co
5-75
5-5°
c.20
4.90
4.60
4-3°
4.00
The
Annuity.
Annuity.
Age
76
77
73
Z9
80
ANN [
The value of il. annuity for a single life.
3 per c
4-05
3-63
3.21
2.78
2*34
Slperc.
3-98
3-57
3.16
2.74
2.31
4 per c,
3-91
3-52
3*11
2.74
2.31
qipet'e.
3-84
3-47
3-07
2.67
2.26
5 c,
3*78
3-41
3*°3
2.64
2.23
6 per c
3-65
3-30
2-95
2-55
2.15
392 ] A' N N
value by the remainder; and the quot will he the value
of il. annuity, or the number of years purchase sought.
Examp. What is the value of 100I. annuity for the
joint lives of two persons, of the age of 30 years each,
reckoning interest at 4 per cent. ?
By the table, one life of years is
Multiply by
Subtract the product
From
Annuity.
14.68
.04
5872
2.0000
The above table shows the value of an annuity of one
pound for a single life, at all the current rates of inte¬
rest ; and is esteemed the best table of this kind extant,
and preferable to any other of a different construction.
But yet those who sell annuities have generally one and
a half or two years more value, than specified in the
table, from purchasers whose age is 20 years or up¬
wards.
Annuities of this sort are commonly bought or sold at
so many years purchase: and the value assigned in the
table may be so reckoned. Thus the value of an annui¬
ty of one pound for an age of 50 years, at 3 per cent,
interest, is 12.51; that is, 12I. 10s. or twelve and a half
years purchase. The marginal figures on the left of the
column of age serve to shorten the table, and signify, that
the value of an annuity for the age denoted by them is
the same with the value of an annuity for the age deno¬
ted by the numbers before which they stand. Thus the
value of an annuity for the age of 9 and xo years is the
same ; and the value of an annuity for the age of 6 and
14, for the age of 3 and 24, &c. is the same. The fur¬
ther use of the table will appear in the questions and
problems following.
Quest, i. A person of 50 years would purchase an
annuity for life of 200I.: What ready money ought
he to pay, reckoning interest at 4^ per cent. ?
L*
By the table the value of il. is 10.8
Multiply by 200
Value to be paid in ready money, 2164.00 Ans.
Quest. 2. A young merchant marries a widow lady
of 40 years of age, with a jointure of 300I. a-year, and
wants to dispose of the jointure for ready money: What
sum ought he to receive, reckoning intei’est at 34 per
cent. ?
L.
By the table, the value of il. is 13.98
400
Value to be received in ready money, 4194.00 Ans.
Pros. 2. To find the value of any annuity for the
joint continuance of two lives ; one life failing, the an¬
nuity to cease.
Here there are two cases, according as the ages of the
two persons are equal or unequal.
1. If the two persons be of the same age, work by
the following
Rule. Take the value of any one of the lives from
the table; multiply this value by the interest of il. for
a year; subtract the product from 2; divide the foresaid
Remains - - 1.4128
And 1.4128)14.68(10.39 value of il. annuity.
And 10.39x100=1:1039 the value sought.
2. If the two persons are of different ages, work as
directed in the following
Rule. Take the values of the two lives from the
table; multiply them into one another, calling the re¬
sult the first product; then multiply the said first pro¬
duct by the interest of il. for a year, calling the result
the second product; add the values of the two lives,
and from their sum subtract the second product; divide
the first product by the remainder, and the quot will be
the value of il. annuity, or the number of years pur¬
chase sought.
Examp. What is the value of 70I. annuity for the
joint lives of two persons, whereof one is 40 and the
other 50 years of age, reckoning interest at 5 per cent. ?
By the table, the value of 40 years is - 11.83
And the value of 50 years is - -
First product, 122.4405
Multiply by .05
Second product, 6.122025
Sum of the two lives, - - _ 22.180000
Second product deduct, - - 6.122025
Remainder,
And 16.057975)122.4405(7.62 value of
70
i6-057975
il. annuity.
533.40 value sought.
Prob. 3. To find the value of an annuity upon the
longest of two lives ; that is, to continue so long as ei¬
ther of the persons is in life.
Rule. From the sum of the values of the single live*
subtract the value of the joint lives, and the remainder
will be the value sought.
Examp. What is the value of an annuity of il. up¬
on the longest of two lives, the one person being 30,
and the other 40 years of age, interest at 4 per cent. ?
By the table, 30 years is
40 years is
Value of their joint lives, by Prob. 2.
Case 2. is
Value sought,
If
14.68
13.2°
27.88
9.62
18.26
ANN [ 393 ] ANN
Annuities. If the annuity be any other than il. multiply the an-
swer found as above by the given annuity.
If the two persons be of equal age, find the value of
their joint lives by Case i. of Prob. 2.
Prob. 4. To find the value of the next presentation
to a living.
Rule. From the value of the successor’s life sub¬
tract the joint value of his and the incumbent’s life, and
the remainder will be the value of il. annuity *, which,
multiplied by the yearly income, will give the sum to
be paid for the next presentation.
Examp. A enjoys a living of 100I. per annum, and
B would purchase the said living for his life after A’s
death : The question is, What he ought to pay for it,
reckoning interest at 5 per cent. A being 60, and B 25
years of age ?
L.
By the table, B’s life is - -
Joint value of both lives, by Prob. 2. is 6.97
The value of il. annuity, - - 6.49
Multiply by - - 100
Value of next presentation, - 649.00
The value of a direct presentation is the same as that
of any other annuity for life, and is found for il. by
the table ; which being multiplied by the yearly in¬
come, gives the value sought.
Prob. 5. To find the value of a reversion for ever,
after two successive lives ; or to find the value of a liv¬
ing after the death of the present incumbent and his
successor.
Rule. By Prob. 3. find the value of the longest of
the two lives, and subtract that value from the value of
the perpetuity, and the remainder will be the value
sought.
tiply that product by the interest of il. and that pro- Annuities,
duct again by 2, calling the result the double pro-—y—j
duct; then, from the sum of the several products of
the lives, taken two and two, subtract the double pro¬
duct 5 divide the product of the three lives by the re¬
mainder, and the quot will be the value of the three
joint lives.
Examp. A is 18 years of age, B 34, and C 56 ;
What is the value of their joint lives, reckoning inte¬
rest at 4 per cent. ?
By the table, the value of A’s life is 16.1, of B’s
14.12, and of C’s 10.01.
16.1 X 14.12 X 10.01 = 2275.6,productof the threelivcs.
.04
91.024
2
182.048, double product.
Product of A and B, 16.1 X 14.12x227.33
A and C, 16.1 X 10.01= 161.16
B and C, 14.12X 10.00= 141.34
Sum of all, two and two, - 529.83
Double product subtract, - 182.048
Remainder, - 347.782
And 347.782)2275.600(6.54 value sought.
Prob. 7. To find the value of an annuity upon the
longest of three lives.
Rule. From the sum of the values of the three single
lives taken from the table, subtract the sum of all the
joint lives, taken two and two as found by Prob. 2. and
to the remainder add the value of the three joint lives,
as found by Prob. 6. and that sum will be the value of
the longest life sought.
Examp. A, aged 50, enjoys an estate or living of
look per annum j B, aged 30, is entitled to his life¬
time of the same estate after A’s death ; and it is pro¬
posed to sell the estate just now, with the burden of A
and B’s lives on it: What is the reversion worth, rec¬
koning interest at 4 per cent. ?
L.
By the table, A’s life of 56 is - n-34
B’s life of 30 is - 14.68
Sum,
oum,
\alue of their joint lives found by 7
Prob. 2. Case 2. is -. j
Value of the longest life,
From the value of the perpetuity,
26.02
8.60
17.42 sub.
25.00
Remains the value of il. reversion,
Multiply by
Value of the reversion,
Prob. 6. To find the value of the joint continuance
ol three lives, one life failing, the annuity to cease.
Rule. Find the single values of the three lives from
the table j multiply these single values continually,
calling the result the product of the three lives ; mul-
Vol. II. Part I. f
7.58
100
758.00
Examp. A is 18 years of age, B 34, and C 56:
What is the value of the longest of these three lives,
interest at 4 per cent. ?
By the table, the single value of A’s life is 16.1
single value of B’s life is 14.12
single value of C’s life is 10.01
Sum of the single values, 40.23
By Prob. 2. the joint value of A and B is 10.76
joint value of A and C is 8.19
joint value of B and C is 7.65
Sum of the joint lives, 26.60
Remainder, - I3-63
By Prob. 6. the value of the 3 joint lives is 6.54
Value of the longest of the 3 lives, - 20.17
Other problems might be added, but these adduced
are sufficient for most purposes. The reader probably
may wish that the reason of the rules, which, it must be
owned, are intricate, had been assigned : but this could
not be done without entering deeper into the subject
than was practicable in this place. See Chances. See
also Annuities, Supplement.
3D
Annuities,
ANN [ 394 ] ANN
Annuities. Annuities, Borrowing upon ; one of the methods
 ' employed by government for raising supplies.
Of this there are two methods j that of borrowing
upon annuities for terms of years, and that of borrowing
upon annuities for lives.
During the reigns of King William and Queen Anne,
large sums were frequently borrowed upon annuities
for terms of years, which were sometimes longer and
sometimes shorter. In 1693, an act was passed for
borrowing one million upon an annuity of 14 per cent,
or of 140,000!. a year for 16 years. In 1691, an act
was passed for borrowing a million upon annuities for
lives, upon terms which in the present times would ap¬
pear very advantageous. But the suhscription was not
filled up. In the following year the deficiency was
made good by borrowing upon annuities for lives at
14 per cent, or at a little more than seven years pur¬
chase. In 1695, the persons who had purchased those
annuities were allowed to exchange them for others of
96 years, upon paying into the exchequer 63 pounds
in the hundred ; that is, the difference between 14 per
cent, for life, and 14 per cent, for 96 years, was sold
for 63 pounds, or for four and a half years purchase.
Such was the supposed instability of government, that
even these terms procured few purchasers. In the
reign of Queen Anne, money was upon different occa¬
sions borrowed both upon annuities for lives and upon
annuities for terms of 32, of 89, of 98, and of 99 years.
In 1719, the proprietors of the annuities for 32 years
were induced to accept in lieu of them South Sea
stock to the amount of eleven and a half years purchase
of the annuities, together with an additional quantity
of stock equal to the arrears which happened then to
he due upon them. In 1720, the greater part of the
other annuities for terms of years both long and short
were subscribed into the same fund. The long annui¬
ties at that time amounted to 666,821!. 8s. 3§-d. a year.
On the 5th of January 1775, the remainder of them,
or what-was not subscribed at that time, amounted only
t0 136,4531- I2S* 8d-
During the two wars which began in 1739, and in
1755, little money was borrowed either upon annuities
for terms of years, or upon those for lives. An annui¬
ty for 98 or 99 years, however, is worth nearly as
much money as a perpetuity, and should, therefore, one
might think, he a fund for’borrowing nearly as much.
But those who, in order to make family settlements,
and to provide for remote futurity, buy into the public
stocks, would not care to purchase into one of which
the value was continually diminishing j and such people
make a very considerable proportion both of the pro¬
prietors and purchasers of stock. An annuity for a
long term of years, therefore, though its intrinsic value
may be very nearly the same with that of a perpetual
annuity, will not find nearly the same number of pur¬
chasers. The subscribers to a new loan, who mean ge¬
nerally to sell their subscription as soon as possible, pre¬
fer greatly a perpetual annuity redeemable by parlia¬
ment, to an irredeemable annuity for a long term of
years of only equal amount. The value of the former
may be supposed always the same, or very nearly the
same ; and it makes, therefore, a more convenient
transferable stock than the latter.
During the two last-mentioned wars, annuities, either
for terms of years or for lives, were seldom granted but
3
as premiums to the subscribers to a new loan, over and Annuities,
above the redeemable annuity to interest upon the ere- —y—J
dit of which the loan was supposed to be made. They
were granted, not as the proper fund upon which the
money was borrowed but as an additional encourage¬
ment to the lender.
Annuities for lives have occasionally been granted
in twro different ways $ either upon separate lives, or
upon lots of lives, which in French are called Tontines,
from the name of their inventor. When annuities are
granted upon separate lives, the death of every indivi¬
dual annuitant disburdens the public revenue so far as
it was affected by his annuity. When annuities are
granted upon tontines, the liberation of the public re¬
venue does not commence till the death of all the an¬
nuitants comprehended in one lot, which may sometimes
consist of twenty or thirty persons, of whom the sur¬
vivors succeed to the annuities of all those who die be¬
fore them; the last survivor succeeding to the annui¬
ties of the whole lot. Upon the same revenue more
money can always be raised by tontines than by an¬
nuities for separate lives. An annuity, with a right
of survivorship, is really worth more than an equal an¬
nuity for a separate life; and from the confidence which
every man naturally has in his own good fortune, the
principle upon which is founded the success of all lot¬
teries, such an annuity generally sells for something
more than it is worth. In countries where it is usual
for government to raise money by granting annuities,
tontines are upon this account generally preferred to
annuities for separate lives. The expedient which will
raise most money, is almost always preferred to that
which is likely to bring about in the speediest manner
the liberation of the public revenue.
In France a much greater proportion of the public
debts consists in annuities for lives than in England.
According to a memoir presented by the parliament of
Bourdeaux to the king in 1764, the whole public debt
of France is estimated at twenty-four hundred millions
of livres ; of which the capital, for which annuities for
lives had been granted, is supposed to amount to three
hundred millions, the eighth part of the whole public
debt. The annuities themselves are computed to a-
mount to thirty millions a-jear, the fourth part of one
hundred and twenty millions, the supposed interest of
that whole debt. It is not the different degrees of
anxiety in the two governments of France and England
for the liberation of the public revenue, which occa¬
sions this difference in their respective mode of bor¬
rowing ; it arises altogether from the different views
and interests of the lenders.
In Britain, the seat of government being in the
greatest mercantile city in the world, the merchants
are generallv the people who advance money to go¬
vernment. By advancing it they do not mean to di¬
minish, but on the contrary, to increase their mercan¬
tile capitals; and unless they expected to sell with
some profit their share in the subscription for a new
loan, they never would subscribe. But if by advan¬
cing their money they were to purchase, instead of
perpetual annuities, annuities for lives only, whether
their own or those of other people, they would not al¬
ways be so likely to sell them with a profit. Annui¬
ties upon their own lives they ■would always sell with
loss; because no man will give for an annuity upon the
ANN l 395 1 A N O
Annuities life of another whose age and state are nearly the same
|| with his own, the same price which he would give for
Annuncia- one Up0n his own. An annuity upon the life of a
. *' third person, indeed, is no doubt, of equal value to
the buyer and the seller $ but its real value begins to
diminish from the moment it is granted, and continues
to do so more and more as long as it subsists. It can
never, therefore, make so convenient a transferable
stock as a perpetual annuity, of which the real value
may be supposed always the same, or very nearly the
same.
In France, before the revolution, the seat of go¬
vernment not being in a great mercantile city, mer¬
chants did not make so great a proportion of the peo¬
ple who advance money to government. The people
concerned in the finances, the farmers general, the re¬
ceivers of the taxes which were not in farm, the court
bankers, &c. made the greater part of those who ad¬
vance their money in all public exigencies. Such peo¬
ple were commonly men of mean birth, but of great
wealth, and frequently of great pride. They were too
proud to marry their equals, and women of quality
disdained to marry them. They frequently resolved,
therefore, to live bachelors; and having neither any
families of their own, nor much regard for those of
their relations, whom they were not always very fond
of acknowledging, they desired only to live in splen¬
dour during their own time, and were not unwilling
that their fortune should end with themselves. The
number of rich people, besides, who were either averse
to marry, or whose condition of life rendered it either
improper or inconvenient for them to do so, was much
greater in France than in England. To such people,
who had little or no care for posterity, nothing could be
more convenient than to exchange their capital for a re¬
venue, which is to last just as long, and no longer, than
they wish it to do.
ANNUITY of teinds, in Scots Law, a certain
proportion of the teinds of erected benefices formerly
payable to the crown, but now gone into disuse.
ANNULAR, in a general sense, something in the
form of, or resembling a ring. It is also a peculiar de¬
nomination of the fourth finger, commonly called the
ring finger.
ANNULET, in Architecture, a small square mem¬
ber in the Doric capital, under the quarter round.
Annulet is also a narrow flat moulding, which is
common to divers places of the columns, as in the ba¬
ses, capitals, &c. It is the same member which Vi¬
truvius calls a fillet; Palladio, a listil ox cincture ; Sca-
mozzi, and Mr Brown, a supercilium, list, tinea, eye¬
brow, square, rabbit. See Architecture.
Annulet, a little circle, born as a charge in coats
of arms, as also added to them as a difference. Among
the Romans it represented liberty and nobility. It also
denotes strength and eternity, by reason of its circular
form.
ANNULOSA, a type, or great division of the ani¬
mal kingdom, comprehending five classes j see Supple¬
ment.
ANNULLING, a term sometimes used for cancel¬
ling or making void a deed, sentence, or the like.
ANNUNCIADA, Annuntiada, or Annuncia-
TA, an order of knighthood in Savoy, first instituted
by Amadeus I. in the year 1409: their collar was of
15 links, interwoven one with another, in form of a Amnincia-
true lover’s knot: and the motto, F. E. R. T. sign!- da
fying, Fortitude ejus Rhodum tenuit. Amadeus VIII. H
gave the name Annunciada to this order, which was for- '
merly known by that of the knot of love ; changing at  ^ >
the same time the image of St Maurice patron of Sa¬
voy, which hung at the collar, for that of the Virgin
Mary ; and instead of the motto above mentioned, sub¬
stituting the words of the angel’s salutation.
Annunciada is also the title of several religious or¬
ders, instituted at different times, and at different places*
in honour of the annunciation. See the next article.
ANNUNCIATION, the tidings brought by the an¬
gel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary of the incarnation of
Christ.
Annunciation is also a festival, kept by the church
on the 25th of March, in commemoration of these tid¬
ings. This festival appears to be of very great anti¬
quity. There is mention made of it in a sermon which
goes under the name of Athanasius. Others parry it up
to the time of Gregory Thaumaturgus, because there is
a sermon likewise attributed to him upon the same sub¬
ject. But the best critics reject both these writings as
spurious. However, it is certain, this festival was ob¬
served before the time of the council of Trullo, in which
there is a canon forbidding the celebration of all festi¬
vals in Lent, excepting the Lord’s day, and the feast of
the annunciation : so that we may date its original from
the seventh century.
In the Romish church, on this feast, the pope performs
the ceremony of marrying or cloistering a certain num¬
ber of maidens, who are presented to him in the church,
clothed in white serge, and muffled up from head to foot :
An officer stands by, with purses containing notes of 50
crowns for those who make choice of marriage, and notes
of a hundred for those who choose to veil.
Annunciation, is likewise a title given by the Jews
to a part of the ceremony of the passover.
ANNUNCIATOR, the name of an officer in the
church of Constantinople. It was his business to in¬
form the people of the festivals that were to be cele¬
brated.
ANODYNE, from * privative, and odora, doleo ;
or u neg. and wdvw, pain), a term applied to medicines
which ease pain, and procure sleep. They are divided
into three sorts, viz. 1. Paregorics, or such as assuage
pain. 2. Hypnotics, or such as relieve by procuring
sleep. 3. Narcotics, or such as ease the patient by
stupifying him.
Opiates and narcotics destroy sensation. Some hyp¬
notics and paregorics, as nitre, camphor, &c. procure
ease and sleep by removing the offending cause. Cam¬
phor is said to be the best anodyne in nervous cases and
at the decline of fevers. The doses of these medicines
are generally regulated by the pulse.
ANOINTERS, a religious sect in some parts of
England, so called from the ceremony they used of
anointing all persons before they admitted them into
their church. They founded their opinion of anointing
upon the fifth of James, ver. 14. and 15.
ANOLYMPIADES, in antiquity, a name given
by the Elians to those Olympic games which had been
celebrated under the direction of the Pisaeans and Ar¬
cadians. The Elians claimed the sole right of mana¬
ging the Olympic games, in which they sometimes
3 D 2 met
A N O [ 396 ] A N O
Anolympi- met with competitors. The hundred and fourth Olym-
ades piad was celebrated by order of the Arcadians, by
whom the Elians were at that time reduced very low ;
Anoniceaiis. thi^ ag wej| as those managed by the inhabitants of
Pisa, they called xvohvftTrutdx?, that is, “ unlawful O-
lympiadsj” and left them out of their annals, wherein
the names of their victors and other occurrences were
registered.
A NO W ALT ST IC A L year, in Astronomy, the
time that the earth takes to pass through her orbit : it
is also called the Periodical Year. The space of time
belonging to this year is greater than the tropical year,
on account of the precession of the equinoxes. See
Astronomy.
ANOMALOUS, a term applied to whatever is ir¬
regular, or deviates from the rule observed by other
things of the like nature.
Anomalous Verbs, in Grammar, such as are not
conjugated conformably to the paradigm of their con¬
jugation. They are found in all languages. In Latin,
the verb lego is the paradigm of the third conjugation j
and runs thus, lego, legis, legit: by the same rule it
should he fero, fen's, ferit; but we say, fero, fers, feid:
fero, then, is an anomalous verb. In English the irre¬
gularity relates often to the preter tense and passive
participle ; for example, give, were it formed according
to rule, would make gived in the preter tense and pas¬
sive participle j whereas, in the former, it makes gave,
and in the latter given.
ANOMALY, in Astronomy, an irregularity in the
motion of the planets, whereby they deviate from the
aphelion or apogee.
ANOMIA, in Zoology, a genus of insects belong¬
ing to the order of vermes testacea. Their shell is bi¬
valve, and the valves are unequal. One valve is per¬
forated near the hinge •, affixed by that perforation to
some other body. There are 25 species of the ano-
mia : of which only tvro are natives of the British seas,
viz. 1. The ephippium, with the habit of an oyster ; the
one side convex, the other flat, perforated adherent to
other bodies, often to oyster shells, by a strong tendinous
ligature ; colour of the inside perlaceous. Size, near two
inches diameter. 2. The squammula, with shells re¬
sembling the scales of fish 5 very delicate, and silvery;
much flatted, perforated; very small. Adheres to oy¬
sters, crabs, lobsters, and shells. This species of the
genus are commonly called Beaked Cockles. No name
has been given to the fish that inhabits it; for the recent
shells of this kind are so very rare, that there is scarcely
one to be found perfect. They are perhaps, as well as
that which has given its form to the cornu ammonis, in¬
habitants of the deepest parts of the ocean ; consequent¬
ly it must be some extraordinary agitation of that great
body of water that can bring them at all to our know¬
ledge in their recent state. See Conchology In¬
dex.
The fossil species of the Anomia gewa are uncommon¬
ly numerous in this island, in our chalk pits and lime¬
stone quarries; and in Gloucestershire they are as com¬
mon on the ploughed lands as pebbles on other places.
ANOMOEANS, in ecclesiastical history, the name
by which the pure Arians were called in the fourth
century, in contradistinction to the Semi-Arians. The
word is formed from the Greek different, dis¬
similar: For the pure Arians asserted, that the Son
2
was of a nature different from, and in nothing like, Anomcean
that of the Father: whereas the Semi-Arians acknow- ||
lodged a likeness of nature in the Son ; at the same time Anorexia,
that they denied, with the pure Arians, the consubstan- ‘——'v——'
tiality of the Word. The Semi-Arians condemned the
Anomceans in the council of Seleucia ; and the Anomoe-
ans in their turn condemned the Semi-Arians in the
councils of Constantinople and Antioch, erasing the
word o/xsto?, like, out of the Formula of Rimini and that
of Constantinople.
ANOMORHOMBOIDIA, in Natural History, the
name of a genus of spars ; the word is derived from the
Greek wwpxMf, irregular, and gcpQodtif, a rhomboidal
figure. The bodies of this genus are pellucid crystalline
spars of no determinate or regular external form, but al¬
ways breaking into regularly rhomboidal masses ; easily
fissile, and composed of plates running both horizontal¬
ly and perpendicularly through the masses, but cleaving
more readily and evenly in a horizontal, than in a per¬
pendicular direction ; the plates being ever composed of
irregular arrangements of rhomboidal concretions. Of
this genus there are five known species. 1. A white,
bright, and shattery one ; found in great quantities in
the lead mines of Derbyshire, Yorkshire, and Wales.
2. A milk-white, opaque, and shattery one, found in
some parts of France, and very plentifully in Ger¬
many, and sometimes in Wales and Scotland, and in
the hills of Yorkshire. 3. A hax-d, dull, and snow-
white one, found in some of the mines in Derbyshire,
and in many of our northern counties. 4. A hard,
gray, and pellucid one, found in the lead mines of
Yorkshire, and very common in Germany. And, 5. A
pellucid and colourless one ; this is found in the lead
mines of Derbyshire and Yorkshire. All these in some
degree have the double refraction of the Iceland crystal.
See Iceland Crystal.
ANON1S. See Ononis, Botany Index.
ANONYMOUS, something that is nameless, or of
which the name is concealed. It is a term usually ap¬
plied to books which do not express the author’s name,
or to authors whose names are unknown.
Anonymous, in commerce. Parnerships in trade in
France are styled anonymous, when they are not carried
on under any particular name, but wherein each of the
partners trades visibly on his own account, and in his
own name ; after which all the partners give one ano¬
ther an account of their profit or loss in trade. These
sorts of partnerships are concealed, and known only to
the parties themselves.
Anonymous Partnerships in Trade, are also in
France, such, wherein persons of fortune and quality de-
posite sums of money, in order to share of the profits
and loss. To this end those who furnish the capital
have no trouble in carrying on the trade, nor do their
names appear to be any way interested therein.
Anonymous, in Law. The sending anonymous let¬
ters demanding money, &c. is felony by the Black Act,
9 Geo. I. cap. xxii.
ANOREXIA, Anorexy, (from a negative, and
appetite) : a want of appetite, or a loathing of
food. Tire disorder is either original or symptomatic.
When it is original, its causes are bad diet, too free
drinking, voraciousness, &c. : In which cases, a vomit
or two of ipecacuanha may be taken ; and temperance,
a light but cordial nourishing diet, and daily exercise
persisted
A N O [ 397 ] A N O
• persisted in, will s;enerallv effect a recovery. But it is
Anossi. more trequently a symptom ot some other disorder}
—v~> and then the cure depends on the removal of the ori¬
ginal one.
ANOSSI, a province of the island of Madagascar,
lying between Lat. 23. 18. and 26. o. S. It is water¬
ed by many rivers, most of which run into the Fran-
chere, Ramevatte, or Immour, the spring of which is in
a mountain called Manghage, and discharges itself in¬
to the sea in Lat. 25. 18. S. The mouth of this river
is often stopped, and the course to the sea interrupt¬
ed, unless kept open by the overflowings of great
rains and high tides. The water runs salt one league
above the mouth, particularly in a free communica¬
tion with the sea. A lake, called Ambou, is formed
at the mouth, half a league wide, with depth sufficient
for any ship if the mouth of the river was kept open.
Next in bigness to the Franchere, is the Manghasia,
which springs from a mountain called Sihva, and emp¬
ties itself into the sea, where large ships may ride at
anchor. Crocodiles breed in these and all the other
rivers of the island.
Between the two rivers above mentioned lies Cape
St Bomain, half a mile distant from the mouth of the
Franchere, and which runs from the north-west six or
seven leagues into the sea. When the cape is passed
the coast forms a great bay, in the shape of a cross,
which extends to the mouth of a river called Diun
Panouge or Pitorah. In the middle of this bay the
land runs out, and almost forms a peninsula called Tho*
langare* Fort Dauphin lies to the north of this pen¬
insula, and Port Dauphin over against it. This prof
vince has several other peninsulas and small islands
belonging to it. The country is beautiful } abounds in
fruit trees } is fertile in pastures for cattle} and, if care¬
fully cultivated, would produce all the necessaries ot life.
It is surrounded by high mountains, which are covered
with woods and shrubs } but, about four miles distant
from Fort Dauphin, the adjacent hills are quite desti¬
tute of verdure. The French often dug in this neigh¬
bourhood, expecting to meet with mines of gold and
silver, particularly in one mountain where several springs
flow near each other and empty themselves into a neigh¬
bouring river. In this river they found several stones
and heaps intermixed with yellow clay, with a great
quantity of black and white, spangles shining like silver,
which they carefully pounded and washed, but without
effect. About 60 yards above these springs the grass,
and every sort of vegetable, appears half dried and yel¬
low, from a metalline sulphur, which gives that aspect}
but the top of the mountain is covered with a fresh and
beautiful verdure. It is said that the Portuguese found
gold at the foot of this mountain on the north side,
but that the place they had dug was filled up by the
chiefs of the country after the Portuguese had been
driven out.
The province of Anossi is inhabited by three difter-
ent sorts of whites, and four sorts of negroes. I he
whites are distinguished by the names of Rohandrians,
Anacandrians, and Ondzatsi. The whites are distin¬
guished from the negroes by the general names of Ra-
feramini or Rahimini; and the Rohandrians are di¬
stinguished above the other whites. When they pro¬
ceed to an election of a sovereign, whom they call Om-
picwdrian, or F)ian Bahouache, he is chosen from the
Rohandrian race. Next to him the others hold the Anossi.
rank of princes, and are honoured as such by all the t——y—-
rest of the subjects. The Anacandrians are descendants
of the chiefs, but who have degenerated, and are ac¬
counted the bastards of princes, or those who are de¬
scended from a Rohandrian and any inferior white or
black woman. These are likewise called by the name
of Ontempassemaca, or people from the sandy parts of
Mecca, from whence, they say, came the Rohandrians.
Both the Rohandrians and Anacandrians wear long
hair, which hangs down in curls } and enjoy the pri¬
vilege of killing beasts. The Ondzatsi, or lowest class
of whites, are descended from the bastards of the Ana¬
candrians. These are all fishermen, and are allowed
to kill no land animal except a chicken.
The four classes of negroes are named Voadziri, Lo-
havohits, Ontsoa and Ondeves. The Voadziri, the most
powerful and the richest, are masters of several villages }
and descended from the original lords of the country.
They enjoy the privilege of killing beasts, when at a
distance from the whites, and no Rohandrian or Ana-
candrian in the village. The Lohavohits are descend¬
ants from the Voadziri, and also lords ; but with this
difference, that the one commands a whole district, and
the jurisdiction of the others extends only to their own
village and family. They are also permitted to kill
those beasts they intend to eat, when at a distance from
the whites. The Ontsoa are next to the Lohavohits,
and are their near relations. The Ondeves are the low¬
est of all, being originally slaves by father and mother.
The Voadziri, Lohavohits, and Ontsoa, enjoy the pri¬
vilege of submitting themselves, on the death of their
lord or king, to any chief they please. In return for such
homage, the new' lord makes them a present, in conse¬
quence of which he becomes heir to all their possessions.
Hence the lower classes both of whites and blacks,
when death approaches, are under the greatest concern
and anguish of mind, well knowing that their lords
will not fail to deprive their children of every thing
they possess. The Ondeves have not the same liberty
with the others} but, in times of famine, the chiefs
are obliged to supply them with necessaries } which if
they fail to do, they have the liberty of submitting
themselves to new masters. The inhabitants of this
province have no temples, and very little appearance
of religion } only they keep up a custom of immolating
beasts upon particular occasions, as in sickness, plant¬
ing yams or rice, on assemblies, &c. They offer the
first born beast to tbe devil and to God, naming the
devil first, in this manner, Dianbilis Aminhanhabare, or
“ Lord Devil and God.”—There are several towns on
the river Franchere } and near this river the Portuguese
had a fort built upon a steep rock, and several build¬
ings below, with enclosures, which furnished all sorts
of necessaries for their subsistence } but they were all
massacred by the natives.
This province seems originally to have been inhabited
by negroes. The whites or Raferamini settled in it
about 200 years ago, and conquered the negroes. But
they themselves were conquered by the French, though
under the government of a king whom they honoured
as a god. In 1642, Captain Rivault obtained permis¬
sion to establish a colony in this part ot the island } and
accordingly he took possession ot it in the name of the
king of France, in the month of September, that same
year*.
A N O [ 398 ] A N S
Anossi, year. The French landed 200 men, well armed, and
Anotta. provided with store of ammunition and other necessaries
v for building a fort, which they immediately set about j
but no sooner did the natives observe their intention,
than they used their utmost art to prevent their design
from taking effect. This created a war, in which the
French were victors ; and, the natives becoming in time
much better reconciled to them, they intermarried, and
lived up and down in several towns at some distance from
one another, not above five or six in a place. This tran¬
quillity lasted for some years ; but at last the natives,
growing jealous, resolved to free themselves from a fo¬
reign yoke $ and accordingly formed a conspiracy to cut
off all the French in one day; which they soon after ef¬
fected, not leaving a single person alive. In 1644 the
above-mentioned Fort Dauphin was erected in Lat. 25.
6. S. Many buildings were erected* behind the fort,
adjoining to the governor’s house, with great enclosures
that produced every sort of fruit and kitchen herb. In
1656 it was accidentally destroyed by fire j but was
soon after repaired, and still continues, notwithstanding
the catastrophe above mentioned, and its garrison car-*
ries on frequent wars with the natives.
ANOTTA, or Ahnotta, in dyeing, an elegant red
colour, formed from the pellicles or pulp of the seeds of
the Bixa, a tree common in South America. It is also
called Terra Orleana, and Boucou.
The manner of making anotta is as follows : The
red seeds, cleared from the pods, are steeped in water
for seven or eight days, or longer, till the liquor begins
to ferment j then strongly stirred, stamped with wooden
paddles and beaters, to promote the separation of the
red skins ; this process is repeated several times, till the
seeds are left white. The liquor, passed through close
cane sieves, is pretty thick, of a deep red colour, and
a very ill smell; in boiling, it throws up its colouring
matter to the surface in form of scum, which is after¬
wards boiled down by itself to a due consistence, and
made up while soft into balls. The anotta commonly
met with among us, is moderately hard and dry, of a
brown colour on the outside, and a dull red within. It
is difficultly acted upon by water, and tinges the liquor
only of a pale brownish yellow colour. It very readily
dissolves in rectified spirit of wine ; and communicates
a high orange or yellowish red. Hence it is used as
an ingredient in varnishes, for giving more or less of
an orange cast to the simple yellows. Alkaline salts
render it perfectly soluble in boiling water, without al¬
tering its colour. Wool or silk boiled in the solution
acquires a deep, but not a very durable, orange dye.
Its colour is not changed by alum or by acids, any
more than by alkalies : but when imbibed in cloth, it
is discharged by soap, and destroyed by exposure to
the air. It is said to be an antidote to the poisonous
juice of manioc or cassava.—Labat informs us, that
the Indians prepare anotta greatly superior to that
which is brought to us, of a bright shining red colour,
almost equal to carmine : that, for this purpose, in¬
stead of steeping and fermenting the seeds in water,
they rub them with the hand, previously dipped in oil,
till the pellicles come off, and are reduced into a clear
paste 5 which Js scraped off from the hands with a
knife, and laid on a clean leaf in the shade to drv.
De Laet, in his notes on Margrave’s Natural History
of Brazil, mentions also two kinds of anotta ; one of a
permanent crimson colour, used as a fucus or paint for Anotta ^
the face ; and another which gives a colour inclining JJ
more to that of saffron. This last, which is our anotta, Ansaiiam
he supposes to be a mixture of the first sort with certain v "
resinous matters, and with the juice of the root of the
tree. The wax or pulp in which the seeds are enclosed
is a cool agreeable rich cordial, and has been long in use
among the Indians and Spaniards in America, who still
mix it with their chocolate, both to heighten the flavour
and raise the colour. It is said to be a successful remedy
in bloody fluxes. The roots have much the same pro¬
perties with the wax.
ANOUT, a small island in the Schagerrack, or that
part of the sea of Denmark which has Norway on the
north, Jutland on the west, and the isle of Zeeland on
the south. It lies in 13. o. E. Long, and 56. 36. N.
Lat.
ANQUETIL, Lewis Peter, a French historian.
See Supplement.
Anquetil du Perron, A. H. an eminent French
oriental scholar. See Supplement.
ANSiE, in Astronomy, implies the parts of Saturn’s
ting projecting beyond the disk of the planet.—The
word is Latin, and properly signifies handles; these
parts of the ring appearing like handles to the body of
the planet.
ANSAMANS, a people of Syria, so called in the
country, but styled in De 1’Isle’s maps Ensarians, and
in those of D’Anville, Nassaris. The territory occupied
by these Ansaria is that chain of mountains which ex¬
tends from Antakia to the rivulet called Nahr-el-Kabir,
or the Great River. The history of their origin, though
little known, is yet instructive. The following ac¬
count is from the Bibliotheque Oi'ientale of Assemani,
a writer who has drawn his materials from the best au¬
thorities.
“ In the year of the Greeks, 1202 (A. D, 891),
there lived at the village of Nasar, in the environs of
Koufa, an old man, who, from his fastings, his conti¬
nual prayers, and his poverty, passed for a saint. Seve¬
ral of the common people declaring themselves his par-
tizans, he selected from among them tivelve disciples
to propagate his doctrine. But the commandant of the
place, alarmed at his proceedings, seized the old
man, and confined him in prison. In this reverse of
fortune, his situation excited the pity of a girl who
was slave to the gaoler, and she determined to give
him his liberty. An opportunity soon offered to effect
her design. One day when the gaoler was gone to bed
intoxicated, and in a profound sleep, she gently took
the keys from under his pillow, and after opening the
door to the old man, returned them to their place un¬
perceived by her master: the next day when the gaoler
Went to visit his prisoner, he was extremely astonished
at finding he had made his escape, and the more so
since he could perceive no marks of violence. He
therefore judiciously concluded he had been delivered
by an angel, and eagerly spread the report, to avoid
the reprehension he merited : the old man, on the other
hand, asserted the same thing to his disciples, and
preached his doctrines with more earnestness than ever.
He even wrote a book, in which, among other things,
he says, ‘ I such a one, of the village of Nasar, have
seen Christ who is the word of God, who is Ahmad,
son cf Mohammed, son of Hanafa, of the race of Ali;
who
Anselm.
A N S [ 3
Aiuarians who also is Gabriel : and he said to me, Thou art he
who readeth (with understanding) j thou art the man
who speaketh truth ; thou art the camel which pre-
^ serveth the faithful from wrath} thou art the beast
which carrieth their burden ; thou art the (Holy)
Spirit, and John, the son of Zachary. Go, and preach
to men that they make four genuflections in praying •,
two before the rising of the sun, and two before his
setting, turning their faces towards Jerusalem : and let
them say, three times, God Almighty ! God Most
High ! God Most Great! Let them observe only the
second and third festival ; let them fast but two days
annually 5 let them not wash the prepuce, nor drink
beer, but as much wine as they think proper and last¬
ly, let them abstain from the flesh of carnivorous ani¬
mals.’ This old man passing into Syria, propagated his
opinions among the lower orders of the country people,
numbers of whom believed in him : And after a few
years he went away, and nobody ever knew what be¬
came of him.”
Such was the origin of these Ansarians, who are, for
the most part, inhabitants of the mountains before men¬
tioned.
The Ansaria are divided into several tribes or sects $
among which are distinguished the Shamsia, or adorers
of the sun $ the Kelbia, or worshippers of the dog", and
the Kadmousia, who are said to pay a particular ho¬
mage to that part in women which corresponds to the
priapus.
Many of the Ansaria believe in the metempsychosis ;
others reject the immortality of the soul; and in ge¬
neral, in that civil and religious anarchy, that ignorance
and rudeness which prevail among them, these peasants
adopt what opinions they think proper, following the
sect they like best, and frequently attaching themselves
to none.
Their country is divided into three principal di¬
stricts, farmed by the chiefs called Mokaddamim. Their
tribute is paid to the pacha of Tripoli, from whom they
annually receive their title. Their mountains are in
general not so steep as those of Lebanon, and conse¬
quently are better adapted to cultivation $ but they are
also more exposed to the Turks ; and hence, doubtless,
it happens, that with greater plenty of corn, tobacco,
wines, and olives, they are more thinly inhabited than
those of their neighbours the Maronites and the
Druses.
ANSE, an ancient town of France, in the Lyo-
nois, ten miles north of Lyons. Long. 6. 55. N. Lat.
45*
ANSELM, archbishop of Canterbury, in the reigns
of William Rufus and Henry I. He was born in the
year 1033, at Aost, a town in Savoy at the foot of the
Alps. He became a monk in the abbey of Bee in
Normandy j of which he was afterwards chosen prior,
and then abbot. In the year 1092, he was invited over
to England by Hugh earl of Chester ; and in the year
following was prevailed on, as we are told, with great
difficulty, to accept the archbishopric of Canterbury.
He enjoined celibacy on the clergy ; for which he was
banished by King Rufus, but recalled by Henry at his
coming to the crown. He refused to consecrate such
bishops as were invested by the king, according to Pope
Urban’s decree 5 flatly denying it to be the king’s pre¬
rogative : for this he was outed again j till, the pope and
99 ] A N S
king agreeing, he was recalled in 1107. In short, from Ans’dm
the day of his consecration to that of his death, he was j)
continually employed in fighting the prerogative of the Ansibarii.
church against that of the crown ) and for that purpose *
spent much of his time in travelling backwards and for¬
wards between England and Rome, for the advice and
direction of his holiness. At the council of Bari, in
the kingdom of Naples, the pope being puzzled by the
arguments of the Greeks against the Holy Ghost’s pro¬
ceeding from the Father, be called upon Anselm, who
was present, and he discussed their objections with great
applause. Priests call him a resolute saint; to other
people he appears to have been an obstinate and inso¬
lent priest. He wrought many miracles, if w'e believe
the author of his life, both before and after his death,
which happened at Canterbury, in the 76th year of his
age, anno 1109. was canonized in the reign of
Henry \ II. Anselm, though we may disregard him
as a saint, deserves to be remembered as one of the
principal revivers of literature, after three centuries of
profound ignorance.
His works have been printed in different years, and
at different places, viz. Nuremb. 1491. Paris 1544
and 1549. Venice 1549. Cologne 1573 and 1612.
Lyons 1630. But the best is that of Father Gerberon,
printed at Paris 1675. It is divided into three parts ;
the first contains dogmatical tracts, and is entitled Mo-
nologia; the second contains practical and devotional
tracts ; the third part consists of letters, in four books.
ANSER, the trivial name of a species of anas. See
Anas, Ornithology Index.
Anser, in Astronomy, a small star, of the fifth or
sixth magnitude, in the milky way, between the swan
and eagle, first brought into oi'der by Hevelius.
ANSERES, the name which Linnaeus gives to his
third order of birds. See Ornithology Index.
ANSIBARII, or Ansivarii, an ancient people of
Germany, situated somewhere in the neighbourhood of
the Chauci. All we know of their history is, that, in
the reign of the emperor Nero, they were driven from
their own possessions by the Chauci. Being then in a
forlorn condition, they took possession of some uninha¬
bited lands, which had been used as pasture for the
horses of the Roman soldiers. They were led by one
Boiocalus, a man of great valour, and of known fidelity
to the Romans. He remonstrated to the Romans, who
objected to their taking possession of these lands, That
the territory in dispute was large j and requested, that
it might be allowed to an unhappy people driven from
their own habitations : that, at the same time, wide
tracts might be retained for the horses and cattle of
the soldiers to graze in j that it was inconsistent with
humanity to famish men in order to feed beasts, &c.:
and at last, lifting up his eyes to heaven, he asked the
celestial luminaries how they could behold a desolate
soil, and if they would not more justly let loose the sea
to swallow up usurpers, who had engrossed the whole
earth ? To this the Roman commander, Avitus, replied,
That the weakest must submit to the strongest \ and
that since the gods, to whom they had appealed, had
left the sovereign judgment to the Romans, they were
resolved to suffer no other judges than themselves. To
Boiocalus himself, however, he privately offered lands
as a reward for his long attachment to the Romans j
but this offer the brave German rejected, as a price for
betraying
A N S [ 400 ] A N S
Ansibarii. betraying his people : adding, “ A place to live in we
' V"""-1 may want, but a place to die in we cannot.” The An-
sibarii now invited the neighbouring nations to join
them against the Romans 5 but they, dreading the
power ot‘ that nation, refused to give them any assist¬
ance ; upon which they applied to the neighbouring
nations, begging leave to settle in their territories ; but
being everywhere driven out as enemies and intruders,
these unhappy people were reduced to wander up and
down till every one of them perished.
ANSIKO, a kingdom of Africa, bounded on the
west by the river Umbre which runs into the Zaire,
the kingdom of Wangua, and the Amboes who bor¬
der on Loango ; on the north, by some deserts of Nu¬
bia ; and on the south, by Songo and Sonda, pro¬
vinces of Congo. Here are great numbers of wild
beasts, as lions, rhinoceroses, &c. and many copper
mines. The king of Ansiko, or the great Macoco,
commands 13 kingdoms, and is esteemed the most
powerful monarch in Africa. The inhabitants of An¬
gola have a tradition, that this is the proper country of
the Giagas, who came originally from Sierra Leona,
and overran, like a torrent, the whole coast as far as
Benguela 5 that, being weakened by numerous battles,
and unable to force the defiles in order to return to Si¬
erra Leona, they arrived on the borders of Monomo-
tapa, where being defeated, they were forced to remain
in the provinces of Ansiko. Be this as it will, the An-
sikans yield not in the least to the Giagas in fierceness
and barbarity. They are so accustomed to the eating
of human flesh, that it is asserted they have markets
where it is publicly sold, and that there are no other
graves for the dead than the bellies of the living. They
try the courage of their prisoners of war by shooting at
them as at marks, directing their arrows above or around
their heads ; and whoever discovers the least signs of
fear, is immediately devoured without remedy. Those
who appear intrepid and resolute, have their noses and
ears bored, and two fore teeth of the upper jaw di'awn.
They are then improved in barbarity, by accustoming
them to the most horrid cruelties.
The Ansikans are neat, well proportioned, and
strong; wandering about from place to place, without
either sowing or reaping. They are dreaded for their
extreme brutality, and never traded with by the Euro¬
peans. Their language is barbarous, and difficult to be
learned, even by the inhabitants of Congo. The most
distinguished among them wear red and black caps of
Portuguese velvet j the lower ranks go naked from the
waist upwards j and, to preserve their health, anoint
their bodies with a composition of pounded white san¬
dal wood and palm oil. Their arms are battle axes,
and small but very strong bows, adorned with serpents
skins. Their strings are made of supple and tender
shoots of trees, that will not break, and their arrows
of hard and light wood. These people, who kill birds
flying, shoot with such surprising swiftness, that they
can discharge 28 arrows from the bow before the first
falls to the ground. With equal dexterity they ma¬
nage their battle axes j one end of which is sharpened
and cuts like a wedge, and the other flattened like
a mallet, with a handle set between, about half the
length of the iron, rounded at the end like an apple,
and covered with the skin of a serpent.—The current
money in this country is the zimbis or shell, which is
fished for, and passes among several African nations.—
They worship the sun as their chief deity j whom they
represent by the figure of a man, and the moon by
that of a woman. They have also an infinite number
of inferior deities, each individual having a particular
idol whom he addresses on certain occasions.
ANSLO, a sea port town of Norway, in the pro¬
vince of Aggerhuys, with a bishop’s see. The su¬
preme court of justice is held here for Norway. It is
seated on a bay of the same name. E. Long. 10. 14.
N. Lat. 50. 24.
ANSON, George, a gentleman whose merit and
good fortune, as a naval commander, exalted him to
the rank of nobility. He was the son of William An¬
son, Esq. of Huckborough, in Staffordshire ; and,
showing an early inclination for the sea, received a
suitable education. The first command he enjoyed was
that of the Weasel sloop, in 1722; but the most me¬
morable action of his life, and the foundation of his
future good fortune, took place on his receiving the
command of five ships, a sloop, and two victuallers,
equipped to annoy the Spaniards in the South seas,
and to co-operate with Admiral Vernon across the
isthmus of Darien j an expedition the principal object
of which failed by the unaccountable delay in fitting
him out. He sailed, however, in Sept. 1740 j doubled
Cape Horn in a dangerous season ; lost most of his men
by the scurvy ; and with only one remaining ship,
the Centurion, crossed the great Pacific ocean. If no
considerable national advantage resulted from this
voyage, Commodore Anson made his own fortune,
and enriched his surviving companions, by the capture
of a rich galleon on her passage from Acapulco to Ma¬
nilla ; with which he returned home round the Cape of
Good Hope. If he was lucky in meeting this galleon,
he was no less fortunate in escaping a French fleet
then cruising in the Channel, by sailing through it du¬
ring a fog. He arrived at Spithead in June 1744.
In a short time after his return, he was appointed rear-
admiral of the blue, and one of the lords of the ad¬
miralty. In April 1745, he was made rear-admiral
of the white, and the following year vice-admiral of
the blue ; at which time he was chosen to represent
the borough of Heydon in parliament. In 1747, be¬
ing on board the Prince George of 90 guns, in com¬
pany with Admiral WTarren, and 12 other ships, he
intercepted, off Cape Finisterre, a powerful fleet,
bound from France to the East and West Indies j
when, by his valour and conduct, he again enriched
himself and his officers, and at the same time strength¬
ened the British navy, by taking six men of war
and four East Indiamen, not one of them escaping.
The French admiral, M. Jonquiere, on presenting his
sword to the conqueror, said, Monsieury vou% avex vain-
cu PInvincible, et la Gloire vous suit: “ Sir, you have
conquered the Invincible, and Glory follows you
pointing to the ships, named the Invincible and the
Glot'y, he had taken. For his signal services, his late
majesty created him baron of Soberton in Hants. The
same year he was appointed vice-admiral of the red j
and, on the death of Sir John Norris, was made vice-
admiral of England. In 1748 he was made admiral
of the blue : he was afterwards appointed first lord
of the admiralty, and was at length made admiral and
commander in chief of his majesty’s fleet; in which
rank
Ansiko,
Anson.
ANT [ 401 1 ANT
Anson rank continued, with a very short interval, until
|| his death ; and the last service he performed was to
Ant-eggs, convey Queen Charlotte to England. He died in
1 v ^ June 1762. No performance ever met with a more
favourable reception, than the account of Anson’s Voy¬
age round the World. Though it is printed under the
name of his chaplain, it was composed under his lord¬
ship’s own inspection, and from the materials he him¬
self furnished, by Mr Benjamin Robins.
ANSPACH, Marciuisate of, a small territory of
Franconia, in Germany, bounded on the north by the
bishoprics of Wartsburg and Bamberg, which last like¬
wise lies to the west j by the earldoms of Holach and
- Oeting, with the bishopric of Aichstet, on the south j
and the palatinate of Bavaria and the territory of Nu¬
remberg on the east. The country is fruitful, and in¬
terspersed with woods, which render it agreeable for
hunting. Besides the city Anspach, which is the capi¬
tal, the chief towns are Kreglin, Swasbach, and Kreil-
sheim. Since 1806 it belongs to Bavaria.
Anspach is a small but pretty town, very well built,
and has several churches. It is walled round, but has
no other fortifications. In the palace there is a re¬
markable cabinet of curiosities. It is seated on a ri¬
ver of the same name. E. Long. 10. 42. N. Lat. 49.
14.
ANSPESSADES, in the French armies, a kind of
inferior officer in the foot, below the corporals, but
above the common sentinels. There are usually four
or five of them in a company.
ANSTRUTHER, Easter and Wester, two royal
boroughs of Scotland, situated on the south-east coast
of Fife, containing about 1300 inhabitants in 1811.
W. Long. 2. 45. N. Lat. 56. 12.
ANT, in Zoology. See Formica and Termes. See
also the article Ant in the Supplement.
ANT-Bear, or Ant-eater, in Zoology. See Myrme-
COPHAGA.
AxT-eggs, a name popularly given to a kind of little
white balls found in the banks or nests of ants, ordinari¬
ly supposed to be the ova of this insect.
Late naturalists have observed that these are not
properly the ants eggs, but the young brood themselves
in their first state ; they are so many little vermiculi
wrapped up in a film or skin, composed of a sort of
silk, which they spin out of themselves as silk worms
and caterpillars do. At first they are hardly observed
to stir; but, after a few days continuance, they exhibit
a feeble motion of flexion and extension; and begin to
look yellowish and hairy, shaped like small maggots,
in which shape they grow up till they are almost as
large as ants. When they pass their metamorphosis,
and appear in their proper shape, they have a small
black speck on them close to the anus of the enclosed
ant, which M. Leeuwenhoek probably enough ima¬
gines to be the faeces voided by it. Dr Edward King
opened several of these vulgarly reputed eggs ; in some
of which he found only a maggot in the circumstances
above described ; while in another the maggot had be¬
gun to put on the shape of an ant about the head, ha¬
ving two little yellow specks, where the eyes were to
be. In others, a further progress was observed, the
included maggots being furnished with every thing to
complete the shape of an ant, but wholly transparent,
the eyes only excepted, which were aa black as bugles.
Vol. II. Part II. f
Lastly, in others.he took out very perfect and complete Ant e
ants, which immediately crept about among the rest. |j
These supposed ants eggs are brought up every morning Ant
in summer near the top of' the bank, where they are
lodged all the warm part of the day, within reach of
the sun’s influence. At night, or if it be cool, or like to
rain, they carry them down to a greater depth ; so that
you may dig a foot deep e’er you come at them. The
true ants eggs are the white substance, which, upon
opening their banks, appears to the eve like the scat¬
terings of fine white sugar, or salt, but very soft and ten¬
der. Examined by a microscope, it is found to consist
of several purewhiteappearances, in distinct membranes,
all figured like the lesser sort of bird’s eggs, and as clear
as a fish’s bladder. The same substance is found in the
bodies of the ants themselves. On this spawn, when
emitted, they lie in multitudes, to brood, till in some
time it is turned into little vermicides as small as mites,
commonly called ants eggs.
Ant-HMs, are little hillocks of earth, which the
ants throw up for their habitation and the breeding of
their young. They are a very great mischief to dry
pastures, not only by wasting so much land as they
cover, but by hindering the scythe in mowing the grass,
and yielding a poor hungry food pernicious to cattle.
The manner of destroying them is to cut them into four
parts from the top, and then dig into them so deep as
to take out the core below, so that, when the turf
is laid down again, it may lie somewhat lower than
the level of the rest of the land : by this means it will
be wetter than the rest of the land, and this will pre¬
vent the ants from returning to the same place, which
otherwise they would certainly do. The earth that is
taken out^piust be scattered to as great a distance every¬
way as may be, otherwise they will collect it together,
and make another hill just by. The proper time for
doing this is winter ; and if the places be left open,
the frost and rains of that time of the year will destroy
the rest: but in this case care must be taken that they
are covered up early enough in the spring, otherwise
they will be less fertile in grass than the other places.
In Hertfordshire they use a particular kind of spade
for this purpose. It is very sharp, and formed at the
top into the shape of a crescent, so that the whole edge
makes up more than three-fourths of a circle ; this cuts
in every part, and does the business very quickly and
effectually. Others use the same instruments that they
do for mole-hills. Human dung is a better remedy
than all these, as is proved by experiment; for it
will kill great numbers of them, and drive all the rest
away, if only a small quantity of it be put into their
hills.
Acid of Ants, an acid produced by distilling millions
of these insects, either without addition, or with water.
It resembles vinegar in many respects ; but differs from
it in forming crystals with magnesia, iron, and zinc-
Its attractions are not yet determined, but are supposed
to coincide with those of vinegar.
ANT A, in the Ancient Architecture,a. sqM&ve pilaster,
placed at the corners of buildings.
Anta, or A?ite, a small kingdom on the Gold coast
of Africa, extending about ten leagues in length.—
The country is covered with large trees, among which
stand a number of fine villages. The soil is exceeding¬
ly rich, and the face of the country beautiful. The
3 E air
ANT t 402 ■ ] ANT
Anta ait' is also much more salubrious than in other places of
!1 the Gold coast; it being observed by all writers, that
Ajiiieii''. the number of deaths here bears no proportion to that
v on any other part on the coasts of Guinea. fl his coun-
tiy contains the following villages, which deserve a
particular description on account of the commerce they
drive j viz. Bourtreij, Tokorari, Sukoada, and Sama; for
which, see those articles.—Formerly Anta was potent
and populous, inhabited by a bold and rapacious peo¬
ple, who greatly annoyed the Europeans by their fre¬
quent incursions j but by continual wars with their
neighbours they are now greatly enfeebled, and the
country in a manner depopulated. The spirit of the
few remaining inhabitants is fled : they are desponding,
dispirited and abject, seeking protection from the
Dutch and other Europeans who have forts on this
coast, and looking upon them as their best friends.
ANTACIDS, in Phat'macy, an appellation given to
all medicines proper to correct acid or sour humours.
Under the class of Antacids come, I. Absorbents :
as chalk, coral, sea-shells, haematites, and steel filings.
2. Obtundents ; as oils and fats. 3. Immutants 5 as
lixivious salts and soaps.
ANT7EUS, in fabulous history, a giant of Libya,
son of Neptune and Terra. Designing to build a tem¬
ple to his father, of men’s skulls, he slew all he met j
but Hercules fighting him, and perceiving the assistance
hd received from his mother, (for by a touch of the
earth he refreshed himself when weary), lifted him up
from the ground and squeezed him to death.
Antaeus was king of Mauritania 5 and from seve¬
ral circumstances, with which we are supplied by va¬
rious authors, it appears extremely probable that he
was the same person with Atlas : they we»e both of
them the sons of Neptune, who reigned over Maurita¬
nia, Numidia, and a great part of Libya j as may be
naturally inferred from his having such particular marks
of distinction conferred upon him by the inhabitants of
those regions. They both ruled w'ith absolute power
over a great part of Africa, particularly Tingitana.
Hercules defeated and slew Antaeus in the same war
wherein he took the Libyan world from Atlas: both
Atlas and Antaeus invaded Egypt, and contended with
He rcules in the wars with the gods, and were both
vanquished by him. Antaeus, as well as Atlas, was
famed for his knowledge in the celestial sciences: from
whence we may fairly conclude them to have been the
same king of Mauritania.
Antaeus, in his wrars with Hercules, who command¬
ed an army of Egyptians and Ethiopians, behaved with
great bravery and resolution. Receiving large rein¬
forcements ol Libyan troops, he cut otY vast numbers
of Heicules s men j but that celebrated commander
having at last intercepted a strong body of Mauritanian
or Libyan forces sent to the relief of Antaeus, gave
him a total overthrow, wherein both he and the best
part of his forces were put to the sword. This deci¬
sive action put Hercules in possession of Libya and
Mauritania, and consequently of all the riches in those
kingdoms ; hence arose the fable that Hercules find¬
ing Antaeus, a giant of an enormous size, with whom
he was engaged in single combat, to receive fresh
strength as often as he touched his mother earth when
thrown upon her, at last lifted him up in the air and
3
squeezed him to death. Hence likewise may be de- Aiitsens
duced the fable, intimating, that Hercules took At- |!
las’s globe upon his owm shoulders, overcame the dra- Ankw
gon that guarded the orchards of the Hesperides, and
made himself master of all the golden fruit. The gold¬
en apples, so frequently mentioned by the old my-
thologists, were the treasures that fell into Hercules’s
hands upon Antaeus’s defeat, the Greeks giving the
Oriental word vh'O riches, the signification annexed to
their owm term, (MsiAas, After the most diligent
and impartial examination of all the different hypo¬
theses of historians and chronologers, relating to Atlas
and Antaeus, we find none so little clogged with diffi¬
culties as that of Sir Isaac Newton. According to that
illustrious author, Ammon, the father of Sesac, w'as the
first king of Libya, or that vast tract extending from
the borders of Egypt to the Atlantic ocean ; the con¬
quest of which country was effected by Sesac in his fa¬
ther’s lifetime. Neptune afterwards excited the Libyans
to a rebellion against Sesac ; slew him, and then invaded
Egypt under the command of Atlas or Antaeus, the son
of Neptune, Sesac’s brother and admiral. Not long af¬
ter, Hercules, the general of Thebais and Ethiopia for
the gods or great men of Egypt, reduced a second time
the whole continent of Libya, having overthrown and
slain Antaeus near a town in Thebais, from that event
called Antaea or Antaeopolis : this, we say, is the no¬
tion advanced by Sir Isaac Newton, who endesvours to
prove, that the first reduction of Libya by Sesac hap¬
pened a little above a thousand years before the birth
of Christ, as the last by Hercules did some few years
after.
ANTAGONIST, denotes an adversary, especially
in speaking of combats and games.
Antagonist Muscles, in Anatomy, those which have
opposite functions \ as flexors and extensors, abductors,
and adductors, &c.
ANTANACLASIS, in Phetoric, a figure which re¬
peats the same word, but in a different sense $ as dum
vivimus vivamus.
ANTAGOGUE, in Rhetoric, a figure by which,
when the accusation of the adversary is unanswerable,
we load him with the same or other crimes.
ANTANDROS, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Mysia, on the sea-coast, at the foot of Mount Alexan¬
dria, a part of Mount Ida, (Strabo, Ptolemy) : it was a
town of the Leleges, (Strabo) ; anciently called Edonis,
then Cimmeris, (Pliny, Stephanus). It takes its name
from Antandros, a general of the iEolians: it is now
called S’. Dimitri.
ANTAPHRODISIACS, in Pharmacy, medicines
proper to diminish the semen, and consequently extin¬
guish or lessen all desires of venery^
ANTARCTIC, in a general sense, denotes something
opposite to the northern or arctic pole. Hence antarc¬
tic circle is one of the lesser circles of the sphere, and
distant only 230 30' from the south pole, which is like¬
wise called antarctic for the same reason.
ANTARES, in Astronomy, the name of a star of
the first magnitude, called also the scorpion’s heart.
Its longitute is 6o° 13' 14" of Sagittarius j and its la¬
titude 430 51' 26" south.
ANTAVARE, a province of the island of Mada¬
gascar, lying about 2i° 30' S. Lat. and hounded by
the
ANT
[ 403 ]
A N T
l:itarare
the province and cape of Manousi. The greatest part
of it is watered by the river Mananzari, whose source
Antecur- js the red mountains of Ambohitsmene.
sore6, , ANTE, in Heraldry, denotes that the pieces are
v ]et into one another in such a form as there is expressed j
for instance, by dove tails, round, swallow tails, or the
like.
ANTEAMBULONES, in Roman antiquity, ser¬
vants who went before persons of distinction to clear the
way before them. They used this formula, Date locum
domino meo, i. e. “ Make room or way for my master.”
ANTECEDENT, in general, something that goes
before another, either in order of time or place.
ANTECEDENT, in Grammar, the words to which a
relative refers.
Antecedent, in Logic, is the first of the two pro¬
positions in an enthymeme.
Antecedent, in Mathematics, is the first of two
terms of a ratio, or that which is compared with the
other.
ANTECEDENCE, in Astronomy, an apparent
motion of a planet towards the west, or contrary to the
order of the signs.
ANTECESSOR, one that goes before. It was an
appellation given to those who excelled in any science.
Justinian applied it particularly to professors of civil
law j and, in the universities of France, the teachers
of law take the title antecessors in all their theses.
ANTECURSORES, in the Roman armies, a party
of horse detached before, partly to get intelligence,
provisions, &c. and partly to choose a proper place to
encamp in. These were otherwise called antecessores,
and by the Greeks prodromi.
ANTEDATE, among lawyers, a spurious or false Antedate
date prior to the true date of a bond, bill, or the 1!
like. Antedilu-
ANTEDILUVIAN, in a general sense, implies t Vla^' .
something that existed before the flood.
Antediluvian JForld; the earth as it existed be¬
fore the flood. See Earth.
ANTEDILUVIANS, a general name for all man¬
kind who lived before the flood, and so includes the
whole of the human race from Adam to Noah and his
family. 1
As Moses has not set down the particular time of^hronolo-
any transaction before the flood, except only the years
of the father’s age wherein the several descendants of
Adam in the line of Seth were begotten, and the
length of their several lives j it has been the business
of chronologers to endeavour to fix the years of the
lives and deaths of those patriarchs, and the distance of
time from the creation to the deluge. In this there
could be little difficulty, were there no varieties in the
several copies we now have of Moses’s writings ; which
are, the Hebrew, the Samaritan, and the Greek version
of the Septuagint; but as these differ very considerably
from one another, learned men are much divided in
their opinion concerning the chronology of the first
ages of the world j some preferring one copy, and some
another.
That the reader may the better judge of the varia¬
tions in the three copies in this period, they are exhi¬
bited in the following table, with the addition of those
of Josephus as corrected by Dr Wells and Mr Whi-
ston.
A Table of the Years of the Antediluvian Patriarchs.
Their ages at their sons birth.
Adam,
Seth,
Enos,
Cainan,
Mahalaleel,
Jared,
Enoch,
Methuselah,
Lamech,
Noah was aged
at the flood
Heb.
130
*05
90
70
65
162
65
187
182
600
Sain. Sept. Jos.
130 230 130
105 205 105
90 190
170
70
65 I^5
62 162
90
70
65
62
6j
65 165
67 167 187
53 188 182
600 600 600
To the Flood, 1657 1307 2262 1556
Years they lived
after theirsons
birth.
Heb. Sam. Sept.
800 800 700
807 807 707
815 815 715
840 840 74O
830 830 730
800 785 800
3OO 3OO 200
782 653 802
595 600 565
Length of their
lives.
Heb. Sam. Sept.
93° 93° 93°
912 912 912
905 905 905
910 910 910
895 895 895
962 847 962
36J 365 36j
969 720 969
777 653 753
To this Table it will be necessary, in order to ex¬
plain the consequences of these variations, to add sepa¬
rate chronological tables, showing in what year of his
contemporaries the birth and death of each patriarch
happened, according to the computation of each of the
said three copies.
3 E
A Chronological
ANT
[ 4°+ ]
ANT
Antedi¬
luvians.
A Chronological Table of the Years of the Patriarchs, according to the Computation of the Hebrew.
Antedi-
luvians.
Adam created,
Seth born,
Enos born,
Cainan born, -
Mahalaleel born,
Jared born,
Enoch born,
Methuselah born,
Lamech born,
Adam dies,
Enoch translated,
Seth dies,
Noah born,
Enos dies,
Cainan dies,
Mahalaleel dies,
Jared dies,
Japhet born, -
Shem born,
Lamech dies,
Methuselah dies,
130 .
23J
32J J95
395 265
46° 330
622 492
687 557
874 744
930 800
987 857
1042 912
1056
1140
I235
1290
1422
'SS6
1558
l6CI
1656
s
90
160
n
s.
5*
p
s
Kj
s s
£L o
70
225 135
387 297
452 362
639 549
695 605
752 662
807 717
821 731
905 817
910
W
s
65
65 -
227 162
292 227
479 4r4 252
535 47° 3°8
592 527 365
647 582
661 596
745 680
840 775
895 830
962
The Flood,
E3” i-*>
S “
CD p
£ 3
CD
187 r
243 56
300 113
355 168
369 182
453 266
548 361 179
603 416 234
735 548 366
869 682 500
871 684 502
964 777 595
969 600
84
A Chronological Table of the Years of the Patriarchs, according to the Computation of the Septuagint.
Adam created,
Seth born,
Enos born,
Cainan born,
Mahalaleel born,
Adam dies,
Jared born,
Enoch born,
Seth dies,
Methuselah born,
Enos dies,
Lamech born,
Enoch translated,
Cainan dies,
Noah born,
Mahalaleel dies,
Jared dies,
Japhet born,
Shem born,
Lamech dies,
Methuselah dies,
The Flood,
^ H'1
i *
o co
23O p-
435 205
625 395
795 565
930 700
960 730
1122 892
1142 912
!340
1474
1487
1535
1662
1690
1922
2162
2164
2227
2256
2262
O
p_
5‘
190
360 170
495 305
525 335
687 467
707 517
852 662
9°5 ns
849
862
r 910
S t-
p
w
D
x35 3
165 P-
327 162
347 182 ^
492 327 i65
545 38° 218
679 5M 352
692 527 365
740 575
867 702
895 73°
962
cr
s
P
3
28
187
200 F“
248 61
375 i88
403 216
635 448 260
875 688 500
877 690 502
940 753 565
969 594
600
ANT
[ 405 ]
ANT
AntetWu- Antedilu-
vians. vians.
* '' A Chronological Table of the Years of the Patriarchs, according to the Computation of the Samaritan Pentateuch.' 
5
Adam created, -
Seth born,
Enos born,
Cainan born, -
Mahalaleel born,
Jared born,
Enoch born,
Methuselah born,
Lamech born,
Noah born,
Enoch translated,
Adam dies,
Seth dies,
Enos dies,
Japhet born,
Shem born,
Cainan dies,
Mahalaleel dies, *
Jared, MethuseO
lah, and La- >• 1307
raech, die, j
»
S- M
130
235
325
395
460
522
654
707
887
93°
1042
1140
1207
1209
1235
290
105
I95
$
P9
2
90
70
35
197
265 160
33° 225
392 287 _ .
457 352 262
524 4X9 329
577 472 382
757 652 562
800 695 605
912 807 717
9°5 8i5
882
884
910
The Flood,
65
127 62
192 127
259 194
312 247
497 427
535 47o
647 582
745 680
812 747
8i4 749
840 775
895 83°
847
2
67
65
I32
185 120
365 300
343
462
553
620
622
648
7°3
fcn
P
3
53 n
233 l80
276 323
388 335
48^ 433
553 5°°
555 502
581 528
636 583
720 653 600
To the varieties exhibited in the two last tables, others
might be added, by admitting the various readings of
some numbers in the Samaritan and Septuagint: for as
to the Hebrew copies, there is here a constant agree¬
ment among them.
The manuscript from which the Samaritan Penta¬
teuch was published, agrees exactly with the Samari¬
tan numbers given by Eusebius. But St Jerome tells
us, that in his time, there were some Samaritan co¬
pies which make Methuselah 187 years old at the birth
of Lamech, and Lamech 182 at the birth of Noah,
just as the Hebrew does. Now if these numbers be
approved as the true original numbers, the interval
from the creation to the flood will be 1556 years ; dif¬
fering from the Hebrew computation but 100 years in
the age of Jared at the birth of Enoch 5 and if this last
be allowed to be a mistake of the transcriber, by his
dropping a number, and writing 62 instead of 162, as
has been suspected, the Samaritan will be perfectly re¬
conciled with the Hebrew, and all difference between
them vanish.
Scaliger, on the authority of an old Samaritan chro¬
nicle, having at the end a table of the years of the pa¬
triarchs to the time of Moses, would correct two of the
Samaritan numbers in Eusebius j viz. instead of 65,
the. age of Mahalaleel when he begat Jared, he thinks
it should be 75 j and instead of 67, the age of Methu¬
selah when he begat Lamech, he would have it 77. By
which alterations he reckons 20 years more to the flood
than Eusebius and the manuscript j that is, 1327. But,
as he acknowledges the table, whereon he grounds these
corrections, contains some great absurdities, it seems
unreasonable to oppose it to the joint authority of Euse¬
bius and. the Samaritan manuscript.
2
As to the Septuagint, in the common editions of that
version, the age of Methuselah at the birth of Lamech
is 167 } and consequently the sum of this period, ac¬
cording to them, is no more than 2242. But, in this
case, Methuselah will outlive the flood 14 years j and
we may well wonder, with Eusebius, where he was pre¬
served. To obviate this objection, we are told, that, in
some copies, Methuselah is said to have lived but 782
(not 802) years after the birth of Lamech, and no more
than 949 in all. But the Alexandrian manuscript en¬
tirely takes away the difficulty, by giving the same-
number in this place with the Hebrew.
Pezron is of opinion, that the age of Lamech, at the
birth of Noah, should be but 182, as it is both in the
Hebrew and in Josephus, supposing, with St Austin,
that the present number is. the error of the scribe who
first copied the original Septuagint manuscript in Pto¬
lemy’s library. So that he computes 2256 years to the
flood. And, if this correction be admitted, and one
more mentioned also by St Austin, viz. that Lamech*
lived 595 years after the birth of Noah, and not 565,
as in the present copies, there will then remain no other
difference between the Septuagint and the Hebrew
than 600 years added to the ages of the six patriarchs-
when they begat their sons, and Methuselah will, con¬
formably to the Hebrew and Samaritan, die in the year
of the flood.
Having premised this chronological view, we shail"
proceed to the history of the antediluvian patriarchs. 2
Of the great progenitor we are told, that “ the LordOf Adam
God took the man and put him into the garden.” Paradise.
These words plainly indicate, that Adam was not created
within the precincts of Paradise 5 and it is afterwards
sard, upon his being turned out of the garden, “ He.
was.
ANT [ 406 1 AN T
Antedilu- Was sent to till the ground whence he was taken.”—
riaii*. As to the situation of this garden, concerning which
t—y- 1 there has been so much learned but uncertain inquiry,
see the article Paradise.
Adam was doubtless created in the prime of his life,
with all his powers and faculties in the highest degree
of strength and vigour. His body would be graceful,
and well proportioned j while his countenance was
comely, and glowed with all the lustre of youthful in¬
nocence. The poet thus describes our first parents :
Adam the goodliest man, of men since born
His sons 5 the fairest of her daughters Eve.
 for in their looks divine
The image of theirglorious Maker shone. Milton.
Many have entertained an opinion (as mentioned
under the article Adam), that our first parent was
created an adept in knowledge and in science, a con¬
summate philosopher, and an accomplished divine.
But the very reverse of this must be true, providing
we give credit to the account which Moses gives of
him. If Adam was created with intuitive knowledge,
for what end was he endowed with the senses of a man,
through which ideas might be conveyed to his mind,
and make him capable of such improvements as arise
from experience and observation ? And if he original¬
ly possessed such a fund of valuable knowledge, why
had he such an ardent thirst for an unwarrantable por¬
tion of more, and for the sake of this additional pittance
forfeited his happiness and life ? Besides, if Adam was
at first all light and knowledge, and was soon after re¬
duced to a state of ignorance and error, this transition
would make a retrograde in the system of nature, quite
dissimilar to that uniformity which obtains thoughout
the whole ol the divine government and economy.
Moses introduces our first parents into life in the most
natural manner, as having capacities to acquire know¬
ledge, senses to receive impressions from objects round
them, and a sufficient degree of reason to form a judge¬
ment of the things perceived : yet all these faculties can
only be considered as so many instruments, by the exer¬
cise of which they might be enabled to discharge the
duties of their future life.
Smellie's The following portrait of our first progenitor when
rtoTvoTui lie *“St. Can?e ’nt0 <,rawn by tlie inimitable pencil
p.05o!r&cI.U>of Buff°n, is extremely beautiful, while it is dissonant
(the pas- from no part of the Mosaic history. “ Let us suppose
sage here a man in the same situation with him who first received
abridged), existence a man whose organs were perfectly formed,
but who was equally new to himself, and to every
object which surrounded him. Were he to give a hi¬
story of his thoughts, and of the manner in which
he received impressions, he might give some such in¬
formation as this. I remember the moment when my
existence commenced. It was a moment replete with
joy, with amazement and anxiety. I neither knew
what I was, where I was, nor whence I came. I opened
my eyes. But what an amazing increase of sensation !
The light, the celestial vault, the verdure of the earth,
the transparency of the waters, gave animation to*
my spirits, and conveyed pleasures which exceed the
powers of expression. At first I believed that all these
objects existed within me, and formed a part of my¬
self. When, turning mine eyes to the sun, his splen¬
dour overpowered me. I voluntarily shut out the
light, and felt a small degree of pain. During this Antedilu-
moment of darkness, I imagined that I had lost the riaiT
greatest part of my being. I was then roused with '—’-v-*—'
a variety of sounds. The singing of birds and the
murmuring breezes formed a concert, which excited
most sweet and enchanting emotions. I listened, and
was convinced that these harmonious sounds existed
within me.—I made a step forwards j and afterwards
renewing my motion, I walked with my face turned
towards the heavens; till I struck against a palm tree,
and felt some degree of pain. Seized with terror, I
ventured to lay my hand upon the object, and per¬
ceived it to be a being distinct from myself, because it
did not, like touching my own body, give me a double
sensation. I resolved then to feel every object I saw,
and had a strong desire to touch the sun j but stretch¬
ing out my hands to embrace the heavens, they met
without any intermediate object. All objects appear¬
ed to me equally near j and it was not till after many
trials that I learned to use my eye as a guide to my hand.
At last the train of my ideas was interrupted, and I lost
the consciousness of my existence. My sleep was pro¬
found j but having no mode of measuring time, I knew
nothing of its duration. WTen I awakened, I was asto¬
nished to find by my side another form, perfectly similar
to my own. I conceived it to be another self; and in¬
stead of losing by my sleep, I imagined myself to be
double. I ventured to lay my hand upon this new be¬
ing. With rapture and astonishment I perceived that
it was not myself, but something much more glorious
and desirable.”
This philosophical detail coincides with the opinion
that, excepting what portions of knowledge Adam
might acquire by the exercise of his senses, his Maker
taught him every thing that was necessary for his com¬
fort and subsistence. But before the Almighty gave
any instructions to our first parents, we must suppose
he inspired them with the knowledge of the mean¬
ing of every word which they heard him speak; other¬
wise it would have been impossible that he could have
had any such communication with them. The words
which they heard and were made to understand, be¬
ing imprinted upon their memories, would serve as
the foundation of a language, which they would af¬
terwards increase and enlarge as new objects began to
multiply, and hence give rise to new terms and defini¬
tions.
One of the first lessons taught to Adam by his in¬
fallible Director, would be the necessity of food for
the support of his life. Accordingly Moses informs us,
that for this purpose a grant was made him to eat of
every tree of the garden, excepting one. At the same
time it was made known to him, in what manner he
was to repair the decays of nature, namely, by eating
oi the tree of life. Then, in order to qualify him for
social intercourse, he was ordered to exercise his fa¬
culty of speech, by giving names to different creatures.
1 he author of the book of Ecclesiasticus says of our
first parents, “ They received the use of the five ope¬
rations of the liOrd j and in the sixth he imparted to
them understanding $ and in the seventh, speech to in¬
terpret the cogitations thereof.” The meaning can¬
not be, that he gave them every word they were to
pronounce, more than every idea which their senses
were to convey to their understanding. Our talents,
and
A' N T
[ 407 ]
A N T
Antcflilu-
and the exercise of them, may be both said to be
given us of God j but whatever capacities we receive
from him, it is supposed that we ourselves must im¬
prove them, before we can attain to any acquirements
whatever. Although Adam had heard and understood
the words of God, yet Moses does not give the least
hint that he ever attempted to speak before this time.
For if he had, as some imagine, innate knowledge and
proper terms for every thing presented to him, what oc¬
casion was there to bring animals before him to see
what names he would impose upon them? Some wri¬
ters have endeavoured to turn into ridicule the whole
of this transaction, and have asked, how could all
creatures upon earth appear at one time before Adam ?
not only one, but many days would have elapsed be¬
fore he could give each a name. But this objection
arises from not understanding the words of Moses.
What our translators render, to see what he would call
THEM, is in the original, to see what name he would
call IT. “And whatsoever Adam called IT, fviz. the
living creature), that was the name of IT.” The mean¬
ing seems to be no more than this: God brought a few
creatures to Adam, to make him try to name them ;
and whatever he called any of them, that continued to
be its name. And no doubt he would denominate
every animal before him, from its external appearance,
from its size, its colour, or its voice : And in process
of time, he would give names to all those creatures
which Providence brought within his view, or with
which he became afterwards acquainted.
The next thing in which God instructed Adam,
though probably in a trance or vision, was his near re¬
lation to Eve, as being a part of his own body. This
piece of knowledge was imparted to him, in order to
cement the greater love and affection between the two
during the remaining period of their lives.
These, according to Moses, are all the transactions
in which our first parents were interested during their
abode in paradise, till they lost their innocence, and
forfeited the enjoyments of their happy situation. And
nothing can be more evident, ’than that the instruc¬
tions which they received bespoke the infantile state of
their minds j though there is no doubt but further and
higher dispensations of knowledge would have been
communicated to them, as they became able to bear
them, and had their minds matured by experience and
3 reflection.
How long How long our first parents retained their, innocence,
rentsie ^ We aie tl0wliere Many assert that they fell on
tainedtheir^le very ^rst ^ay their creation. But Moses men-
innocence. tions so many transactions on that day, as must have
engrossed the whole of their attention, and prevented
them from falling into such temptations as arise from
indolence and want of reflection. Besides, if, in such
circumstances as they were placed, they could not re¬
frain from an open violation of the Divine law for the
space of one day, it would bespeak a deceitfulness of
heart in them greater than in most of their posterity.
It is somewhat singular, that many of the great trials
recorded in sacred writing were limited to 40 days ;
which in prophetic style is sometimes equivalent to 40
years. This appears from the history of Moses, of Eli¬
jah, of Nineveh, and of the Jewi-h nation after the Anudi-
death of Christ. And, what is very remarkable, he, of Juvian*.
whom Adam was a type, was tempted 40 days in the v
wilderness. Agreeable to this part of the Divine eco¬
nomy, pel haps the trial of our first parents lasted so
long. However, that they remained for a considerable
time in the garden, appears highly probable fiom this
consideration, that their indulgent Creator, wiio had
manifested his tender concern ior them while innocent,
and extended his mercy to them when fallen, would ne¬
ver have turned them out of paradise, and sent them
into an uncultivated world, before they had acquired
the arts of living, and were capable of providing against
the vicissitudes of their future lot. The particulars of
this memorable transaction are considered under the ar¬
ticle Fall.
Moses gives us no farther account of Adam’s life
after leaving the garden, but that he begat some chil¬
dren, and died at soch an age. Yet we have no reason
to doubt, hut the venerable patriarch ever after led a
life of penitence, and of the strictest piety. The va¬
rious communicat’ons which he had enjoyed with his
Maker in paradise, and which were probably renewed
to him after his fall, could not fail to make the deepest
impressions upon his mind. The gracious respite he
had met with, from the execution of the sentence de¬
nounced against him, would make him cautious of of¬
fending for the time to come ; lest the next violation
of the Divine authority should put an end to his exist¬
ence. The cherubim and flaming sword, or the devour¬
ing flame, on the east oj Eden (which might continue
burning all his life) would be to him ivhat the vestiges
of the ark were to Noah and his sons, an artful memo¬
rial of the danger of incurring the Divine displeasure.
Besides, his worldly comforts being in a great measure
withdrawn, his mind would be naturally disposed for
relishing those pleasures which flow from piety and re-
Hgicn. _ # 4
The first thing which we hear of Adam in his new Of their
situation was, that he knew Eve his wife, and she eon- progeny.
reived and bare Cain. Afterwards, we are told, she
bare Abel. When the brothers were grown up, they
betook themselves to distinct employments; the for¬
mer to husbandry, and the latter to the keeping of
sheep. Their inward dispositions were still more dif¬
ferent ; Cain being wicked and avaricious, but Abel
just and virtuous.
In process of time they brought their respective of¬
ferings to God ; Cain of the fruit of the ground, and
Abel of the firstlings of his flock : but they met with
very different success ; for God accepted the offering
of Abed, but Cain’s he did not accept j the conse¬
quences of which are related under the articles Abel
and Cain.
Soon after the murder of Abel, his loss was made up
to his parents in another son they had, whom Eve na¬
med Seth, that is “ appointed j” because he was ap¬
pointed instead of Abel whom Cain slew.
As the whole progeny of Adam, of whom we have
any mention in Scripture, were the descendants of Cain
and Seth, it may be proper to give the following
Genealogical
ANT [ 408 ] ANT
Antedilu¬
vians.
Genealogical TABLE of the ANTEDILUVIANS.
Anted ill),
vians.
Of the line The sacred historian, confining himself chiefly to the
ciCain. line of Seth, from whence Noah was descended, has
acquainted us with very few particulars relating to that
of Cain : nor can we thus form any conjectures how
long he or any of his descendants lived. All we know
is, that Lamech, the fifth in descent from him, married
two wives, Adah and Zillah, the first known instance
of polygamy 5 that by the former he had two sons,
Jabal, who was the first that dwelt in tents, and fed
cattle, and Jubal, the inventor of music ; and by the
other, a son named Tubal-Cain, who found out the art
of forging and working metals. Zillah likewise brought
him a daughter named Naamah, supposed to have in¬
vented spinning and weaving : and we are told that,
on some occasion or other, Lamech made a speech to
6 his wives, the explication of which has greatly puzzled
The line of the interpreters. See Lamech.
Seth. Moses proceeds to tell us, that Seth had a son born
MihiYPhy-10 |,jm called Enos, and that then began men to call up-
Lebtures ’ on ^ie name °f Lord. Commentators give us three
p. 142, See. different senses of these words. Some think the words
should be rendered, Then men profaned in calling on
the name of the Lord; and that even Enos arrogated
to himself a power as if he had been a god. But this
sense seems harsh and unnatural. There is nothing
more unlikely, than that Adam’s grandchildren, who
lived under his own eye, would so soon shake off pa¬
rental authority, and apostatize from the belief and
worship of the one true God. Others think, that
though men had hitherto worshipped God in private,
vet they now instituted public assemblies, met in larger
societies for solemn and social worship, and introduced
liturgies and forms for more effectually paying their
homage to the Almighty. This indeed is a very na¬
tural comment from those who place religion in modes
and set forms of worship. But it is*scarcely credible,
that Adam and his family had never met together to
worship God till now, when we are told that Cain and
Abel, and probably both their families along with
them, brought their offerings to the Lord ; this they
no doubt did every Sabbath day. Others, therefore,
put a more consistent interpretation upon the words,
namely?
ANT [ 409 ] ANT
Afitedilu- namely, that men now called themselves by the name of
vians. the Lord. The meaning of which is, that about this
period, the family of Seth, who adhered to God and
his worship, began to give themselves a denomination,
expressive of their relation and regards to him. They
distinguished themselves from the irreligious family of
Cain, and assumed the title of the sons or children of
God : which designation was afterwards applied to them
by Moses 5 it was even used after the flood, and adopt¬
ed by the writers of the New Testament.
Of the three next descendants of Seth, Cainan, Ma-
halaleel, and Jared, and of Methuselah and Lamech,
the grandfather and father of Noah, Moses has record¬
ed no more than their several ages. The oriental an- •
thors commend them, as they do Seth and Enos, for
their piety, and the salutary injunctions they left be¬
hind them, forbidding their children all intercourse with
the race of cursed Cain.
Enoch the son of Jared, and father of Methuselah,
was a person of most extraordinary piety, walking with
God, as the Scripture expresses it, for at least the last
three hundred years of his life j as a reward for which
exemplary behaviour in so corrupt an age, he was ta¬
ken up by God into heaven, without tasting death. See
7 Enoch.
Corruption Moses afterwards informs us, When men began to
oftbehu- multiply, i. e. when the earth was filled with inhabi-
man rac*. tants, and tribes formerly living r-emote began to ap¬
proach nearer to one another, Daughters were born un¬
to them: meaning in greater abundance than formerly j
which seems to hint, that at this period there were
considerably more females than males born into the
world. Some think that Moses, being now about to
mention the wickedness of the Antediluvians, intro¬
duces the posterity of Cain as being the chief cause of
their corruption 5 and that he styles them men and
daughters of men, because they were sensual and earth¬
ly ; in which sense the word men is sometimes used in
the Scriptures.
The sons of God saw the daughters of men that they
were fair ; and they took thetn wives of all that they
chose. These words have given rise to many absurd
and ridiculous comments both of Jews and Christians.
There are two meanings affixed to them, which may
be mentioned as the most probable. Whenever the
name of God is added to any thing, it not only de¬
notes God’s being the efficient cause, but it heightens
and increases its usual meaning. For which reason
any thing that is excellent in its kind, or uncommonly
lofty and magnificent, was by the Jews said to be of
God, or of the Lord. Thus the angels are called the
sons of God. And Adam being created with a nobler
image than any other creature, is said to be made in
the image of God. The cedars of Lebanon ax-e called
the cedars of the Lord; and great mountains, the
mountains of God. Therefore by the so?is of God in
this place are meant men of great opulence, power,
and autlfority. And by way of contrast, the historian
introduces those' of poor and mean circumstances in
life, and calls them the daughters of men. The words
thus explained, are not an unlikely description of that
dissolute age. The great and mighty in this world
are commonly most addicted to sensual gratifications,
because they have so many incentives to inflame their
passions, and so few restraints to curb them 5 and, in-
Vol. II. Part II. f
stead of using their power to punish and discountenance Antcdilu-
vice, are too often the greatest examples and promoters viaus.
of lasciviousness and debauchery. Thus, these sons of —-v-™^
God, these great men, when they happened to meet
with the daughters of their inferiors, gazed upon them
as fit objects to gratify their lust j and from among
these they took to themselves, in a forcible manner,
wives, or (as it may be rendered) concubines, of all that
they chose, whether married or unmarried, without ever
asking their consent. No wonder, then, that the earth
should be filled ivit/i violence, when the highest rank of
men were above the restraint of law, of reason, and re¬
ligion, and not only oppressed the poor, but with im¬
punity treated them and their children in such a base
and cruel manner.
But there are other writers who cannot relish the
above opinion j because they think it a harsh and un¬
natural construction, to call great and powerful persons
the sons of God, and all mean and plebeian women the
daughters of men. Besides, the text does not say, that
the sons of God offered any violence to these inferior
women 5 but that they saw that they were fair, and
made choice of them for wives. And wherein is the
heinousness of the offence, if men of a superior rank
marry their inferiors, especially when an excess of
beauty apologizes for their choice ? Or why should a
few unequal matches be reckoned among the causes of
bringing upon the world an universal destruction ? For
these reasons many are of opinion, that the descendants
of Seth, who were styled the sons of God on account oiMiln,
their near relation to him, saw the daughters of men, P- 265*
i. e. the impious progeny of Cain, and by intermar¬
riages became associated with them $ and surrendering
to those enchantresses their hearts and their freedom,
they surrendered at the same time their virtue and their
religion. From this union proceeded effects similar to
what has happened ever since. When a pure society
mixes with a profane, the better principles of the one
become soon tainted by the evil practices of the other j
which verifies the old adage, Evil communication cor¬
rupts good manners. Thus it appears, that the great
source of universal degeneracy was owing to the poste¬
rity of Seth mingling with the progeny of Cain, in op¬
position to what their pious fathers had strictly charged
them.
It is afterwards said, There were giants in the earth
in those days : and also after that, when the sons of God
came in mito the daughters of men, and they bare chil¬
dren to them, the same became mighty men, which tv ere
of old men of renown. Translators are not agreed
about the meaning of the word giants. Some render
the word, violent and cruel men; others, men who fall
upon and rush forward, as a robber does upon his
prey: the meaning then is, that they were not more re¬
markable for their strength and stature, than for their
violence and cruelty. In Luther’s German translation
of the Bible, this word is rendered tyrants. It is ge¬
nerally agreed, that in the first ages of the world, men
were of a gigantic staturethough Moses does not
mention them as giants till after the union of the fami¬
lies of Seth and Cain, when men used their superiority
in bodily strength for the purposes of gratifying their
unhallowed passions.
At this period of the world, and long after, politi¬
cal power and bodily strength went hand and hand to-
3 F gether.
CSod’s for¬
bearance.
Preaching
of Noak.
10
Mankind
incorrigi¬
ble. .
n
Tlie whole
world de-
^troyed by
a flood ex¬
cept Noah
and his fa-
iwily.
ANT [4'
frethcr. Whoever was able to encounter and kill a
fierce and dangerous wild beast, and clear the country
of noxious animals, or who was able in the day oi
battle to destroy most of his enemies, was looked up to
by the rest of his companions as the fittest to be their
leader and commander. Thus Nimrod, from being a
mighty hunter, became a great king, and, grasping at
jbnver, was never satisfied till every obstacle to his am¬
bition was removed. And it appears from history,
that all his successors have pretty nearly trodden in
the same path. These giants then, or sans of God,
might be the chief warriors, who formed themselves
into chosen bands, and living among a cowardly and
effeminate people, had no curb to their cruelty and
lust. From them might spring an illegitimate race,
resembling their fathers in body and mind, who, when
they grew up, having no inheritance, would be turned
loose upon the world, and follow no other employ¬
ment but theft, rapine, and plunder. Thus they be¬
came mighty men and men of renown, and procured
themselves a name: but this was owing to the mischief
they did, and the feats of savage cruelty which they
performed.
Mankind running thus headlong into all manner of
vice, were admonished to repent j and God, out of his
great mercy, was pleased to grant them a convenient
time for that purpose } no less than 120 years, during
which space, but no longer, he declared his Spirit should
“ strive with man,” or endeavour to awaken and reclaim
them from their wicked course of life.
Amidst this general corruption, one man, however,
was found to be just and perfect in his generation, walk¬
ing with God. This extraordinary person was Noah,
the son of Laroech j who, not thinking it sufficient to
be righteous himself, unless he did his utmost to turn
others likewise to righteousness by admonition as well as
example, became a preacher to the abandoned race
among which he lived, employing both his counsel and
authority to bring them to a reformation of their
manners, and to restore the true religion among
them. But all he could do was to no purpose j for
they continued incorrigibly obstinate j so that at length
(as Josephus tells us), finding himself and family in
imminent danger of some violence in return for his good
will, he departed from among them, with his wife and
children.
On his departure, it is probable they fell into greater
disorders than before ; having now none to controul, or
even to trouble them with unwelcome advice. Moses
assures us, that the wickedness of man was great in the
earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of
his heart was continually evil •, and that “ the earth
was corrupt and filled with violence, all flesh having
corrupted his way upon the earth.” These words leave
no room to inquire into the particular crimes of the An¬
tediluvian world, which seems to have been overrun with
a complication of all manner of debauchery and wick¬
edness, and above all with violence and injustice towards
one another.
Things being in this state, God, as the sacred histo¬
rian pathetically expresses it, “ repented that he had
made man on earth, and it grieved him at his heart.”
And the time of forbearance being elapsed, he passed
the sentence of their utter destruction by a flood of
aters j a sentence which likewise included the beasts
3
o ] ANT
of the earth, and every creeping thing, and the fowls of Antedilu-
the air. But Noah found grace in the eyes of the vians.
Lord ;” who had before acquainted him with his design l——-y——*
of bringing a deluge on the earth, and directed him to
make an ark, or vessel, of a certain form and size, ca¬
pable of containing not only himself and family, but such
numbers of animals of all sorts as would be sufficient to
preserve the several species, and again replenish the
earth, together with all necessary provisions for them.
All these injunctions Noah performed ; and, by God’s
peculiar favour and providence, he and those that were
with him survived this tremendous calamity. See the
article Deluge. Ia
As to any further transactions before the flood, we are Traditional
left entirely in the dark by the sacred historian. The^ffitory of
Jews and eastern nations, however, have made ample
mends for the silence of Moses, by the abundance of
their traditions. The only part of these, which can be
connected in any thing like history, is what follows. 
After the death of Adam, Seth, with his family, sepa¬
rated themselves from the profligate race of Cain, and
chose for their habitation the mountain where Adam
was buried, the Cainites remaining below, in the plain
where Abel was killed $ and, according to our histo¬
rians, this mountain was so high, that the inhabitants
could hear the angels singing the praises of God, and
even join them in that service. Here they lived in great
purity and sanctity of manners. Their constant employ¬
ment was praising God, from which they had few or no
avocations ; for their only food was the fruit of the
trees which grew on the mountain, so that they had
no occasion to undergo any servile labours, nor the trou¬
ble of sowing and gathering in their harvest. They
were utter strangers to envy, injustice, or deceit. Their
only oath was, “ By the blood of Abel }” and they
every day went up to the top of the mountain to
worship God, and to visit the body of Adam, as
a mean of procuring the Divine blessing. Here, by
contemplation of the heavenly bodies, they laid the
foundations of the science of astronomy j and lest their
inventions should be forgotten, or lost before they were
publicly known, understanding, from a prediction of
Adam’s, that there w’ould be a general destruction of
all things, once by fire, and once by water, they built
two pillars, one of brick, and the other of stone, that
if the brick one happened to be overthrown by the
flood or otherwise destroyed, that of stone might re¬
main. This last, Josephus says, was to be seen in his
time in the land of Syriad, (thought to be in Upper
Egypt).
The descendants of Seth continued in the practice
of virtue till the 40th year of Jared, when an hundred
of them hearing the noise of the music and the riotous
mirth of the Cainites, agreed to go down to them from
the holy mountain. On their arrival in the plain, they
were immediately captivated by the beauty of the wo¬
men, who were naked, and with whom they defiled
themselves ; and this is what is meant by the inter¬
marriage of the sons of God with the daughters of
men, mentioned by Moses. The example of these
apostate sons of Seth was soon followed by others j and
from time to fime great numbers continued to descend
from the mountain, who in like manner took wives
from the abandoned race of Cain. From these mar¬
riages sprung the giants (who, however, according to
Moses,
by Ionian
Antiqui¬
ties
ANT t 4i
Antediiu- Moses, existed before) ; and these being as remarkable
vians. f0r their impiety as for their strength of body, tyran-
nixed in a cruel manner, and polluted the earth with
wickedness of every kind. This defection became at
last so universal, that none were left in the holy moun¬
tain, except Noah, his wife, his three sons, and their
X3 wives.
Profane hi- Berosus, a Chaldean historian, who flourished in the
story. ^*time of Alexander the Great, enumerates ten kings
foilonicm*' reigned in Chaldea before the flood j of whom the
l0n first, called A/orus, is supposed to be Adam, and Xi-
suthrus, the last, to be Noah.—This Alorus declared
that he held his kingdom by divine right, and that God
himself had appointed him to be the pastor of the
people. According to our historian, in the first year
of the world, there appeared out of the Red sea, at a
place near the confines of Babylonia, a certain irra-
tional animal called Oannes. He had his whole body
like that of a fish ; but beneath his fish’s head grew
another of a different sort (probably a human one).
He had also feet like a man, which proceeded from his
fish’s tail, and a human voice, the picture of him be¬
ing preserved ever after. This animal conversed with
mankind in the day time, without eating any thing :
he delivered to them the knowledge of letters, sciences,
and various arts : he taught them to dwell together in
cities, to erect temples, to introduce laws, and instruct¬
ed them in geometry ; he likewise showed them how
to gather seeds and fruits, and imparted to them what¬
ever was necessary and convenient for a civilized life j
but after this time there was nothing excellent invent¬
ed. When the sun set, Oannes retired into the sea, and
continued there all night. He not only delivered his
instructions by word of mouth, but, as our author assures
us, wrote of the origin of things, and of political econo¬
my. This, or a similar animal, is also mentioned by
other authors.
Of Alasporus, the second king, nothing remarkable
is related. His successor, A melon, or Amillarus, was
of a city called Pantabibla. In his time another ani¬
mal resembling tbe former appeared, 260 years after
the beginning of this monarchy. Amelon was succeed¬
ed by Metalarus 5 and he by Daonus, all of whom were
of the same city. In the time of the latter four animals
of a double form, half man and half fish, made their ap¬
pearance. Their names were Euedocus, Eneugamusi
Encubulus and Anementas. Under the next prince,
who was likewise of Pantabibla, appeared another ani¬
mal of the same kind, whose name was Odacon. All
these explained more particularly what had been con¬
cisely delivered by Oannes.
In the reign of the tenth king, Xisuthrus, happened
the great deluge, of which our author gives the follow¬
ing account : Cronus, or Saturn, appeared to Xisu-
thrus in a dream, and warned him, that on the fifteenth
of the month Dsesius mankind would be destroyed by
a flood, and therefore commanded him to write down
the original, intermediate state, and end of all things,
and bury the writings under ground in Sippara, the
city of the sun ; that he should also build a ship, and
go into it with his relations and dearest friends, having
first furnished it with provisions, and taken into it fowls
and four-footed beasts j and that, when he had provid¬
ed every thing, and was asked whither be was sailing,
he should answer, To the gods, to pray for happiness to
i ] ANT
mankind. Xisuthrus did not disobey j but built a ves- Antedilti-
sel, whose length was five furlongs, and breadth two vians
furlongs. He put on board all he was directed j and v—
went into it with his wife, children, and friends. The
flood being come, and soon ceasing, Xisuthrus let out
certain birds, which finding no food, nor place to rest
upon, returned again to tbe ship. Xisuthrus, after
some days, let out the birds again $ but they returned
to the ship, having their feet daubed with mud : but,
when they were let go the third time, they came no
more to the ship, whereby Xisuthrus understood that
the earth appeared again 5 and thereupon he made an
opening between the planks of the ship, and seeing
that it rested on a certain mountain, he came out with
his wife, and his daughter, and his pilot i and having
worshipped the earth, and raised an altar, and sacrifi¬
ced to the gods, he and those who went out with him
disappeared. They who were left behind in the ship,
finding that Xisuthrus and the persons that accompa¬
nied him did not return, went out themselves to seek
for him, calling him aloud by his name 5 but Xisu¬
thrus was no more seen by them : only a voice came
out of the air, which enjoined them, as their duty was,
to be religious ; and informed them, that on account
of his own piety he was gone to dwell with the gods,
and that his wife and daughter and pilot were parta¬
kers of the same honour. It also directed them to re¬
turn to Babylon, and that, as the fates had ordained,
they should take the writings from Sippara, and com¬
municate them to mankind } and told them, that tbe
place where they were was the country of Armenia.
When they had heard this, they offered sacrifice to
the gods, and unanimously went to Babylon *, and
when they came thither, they dug up the writings at
Sippara, built many cities, raised temples, and rebuilt
Babylon* ^
The Egyptians, who would give place to no nation Antediiu-
in point of antiquity, have also a series of kings, who, vian kin83
as is pretended, reigned in Egypt before the flood :
and to be even with the Chaldeans, began their ac¬
count the very same year that theirs does according to
Berosus.
There was an ancient chronicle extant among the
Egyptians, not many centuries ago, which contained
30 dynasties of princes who ruled in that country, by
a series of 113 generations, through an immense space
of 36,525 years, during which Egypt was successively
governed by three different races j of whom the first
were the Auritte, the second the Mestrau, and the third
the Egyptians.
But this extravagant number of years Manetho (to
whose remains we must chiefly have recourse for the
ancient Egyptian history) has not adopted; however,
in other respects, he is supposed to have been led in¬
to errors in chronology by this old chronicle, which
yet seems to have been a composition since Manetho’s
time.
The account given by Berosus is manifestly taken Saachonia-
from tbe writings of Moses 5 but v'e have another ac- tho’s Phce-
count of the first ages of mankind, in which no men- ,”c'an
tion is made of the flood at all. This is contained in tor'’
some fragments of a Phoenician author called Sancho-
niatho, who is by some said to have been contemporary
with Gideon, by others to have lived in the days ot
King David while some boldly assert there never was
3 F 2 such
ANT [ 412 ] ANT
Antedilu. such a person, and that the whole is a fiction of Philo
rians. Biblius, in opposition to the books of Josephus, written
v against Apion. To gratify the reader’s curiosity, how¬
ever, we have subjoined an account of the first ten ge¬
nerations mentioned by him, which are supposed by the
compilers of the Universal History to correspond to the
generations mentioned by Moses before the flood.
Sanchoniatho having delivered his cosmogony, or ge¬
neration of the other parts of the world, begins his hi¬
story of mankind with the production of the first pair
of mortals, whom Philo, his translator, calls Trotogonns
and JEon ; the latter of whom found out the food which
was gathered from trees.
Their issue were called Genus and Genea, and dwelt
in Phoenicia: but when the great droughts came, they
stretched forth their hands to heaven towards the sun j
for him they thought the only God and Lord of hea¬
ven, calling him Beelsamen, which in Phoenician is
Lord of heaven, and in Greek Zeus.
Afterwards from Genus, the son of Protogonus and
Pon, other mortal issue was begotten, whose names were
Phos,Phur, and Phlox; that is, Light, Fire, znAFlame.
These found out the way of germinating fire, by the
rubbing of pieces of wood against each other, and taught
men the use thereof. They begat sons of vast bulk and
height, whose names were given to the mountains on
which they seized: so from them were named Mount
Cassius, Libanus, Aniilibanus, and Prathys.
Of these last were begotten Memrumus and Hypsu-
ranius j but they were so named by their mothers, the
women of those times, who without shame lay with any
man they could light upon. Hypsuranius inhabited
Tyre, and he invented the making of huts of reeds and
rushes and the papyrus. He also fell into enmity
with his brother Usous, who first invented a covering
lor his body out of the skins of the wild beasts which
he could catch. And when violent tempests of winds
and rains came, the boughs in Tyre, being rubbed
against each other, took fire, and burnt the wood there.
And Usous, having taken a tree, and broke off its
boughs, was so bold as to venture upon it into the sea.
He also consecrated two rude stones, or pillars, to fire
and wind j and he worshipped them, and poured out
to them the blood of such wild beasts as had been
caught in hunting. But when these were dead, those
that remained consecrated to them stumps of wood and
pillars, worshipping them, and kept anniversary feasts
unto them.
Many years after this generation came Agreus and
Halicus, the inventors of the arts of hunting and fish-
ing, from whom huntsmen and fishermen are named.
Of these were begotten two brothers, the inventors
of iron and of the forging thereof: one of these, called
Chrysor, the same with Hephestus, or Vulcan, exer¬
cised himself in words and charms and divinations :
found out the hook, bait, and fishing-line, and boats
slightly built $ and was the first of all men that sailed.
Wherefore he also was worshipped after his death for a
god : and they called him Zeus Michtus, or Jupiter the
engineer; and some say his brother invented the way
of making walls of brick. J
Afterwards from this generation came two brothers;
one of whom was called Technites, or the Artist; the
other Geinus Autochthon, [the home-born man of the
earth]. These found out to mingle stubble, or small Antedilu
twigs, with the brick earth, and to dry them in the vians.
sun, and so made tyling. —y—.
By these were begotten others; of which one was
called Agrus [Field] ; and the other Agrouerus, or
Agrotes [Husbandman], who had a statue much wor¬
shipped, and a temple carried about by one or more
yoke of oxen, in Phoenicia ; and among those of Byb-
lus he is eminently called the greatest of the gods.
These found out how to make courts about men’s houses,
and fences, and caves or cellars. Husbandmen, and
such as use dogs in hunting, derive from these ; and
they are also called Aleice and Titans.
Of these were begotten Amynus and Magus, who
showed men to constitute villages and flocks.
In these men’s age there was one Eliun, which im¬
ports in Greek Hypsishis [the most high] and his wife
was named Beruth, who dwelt about Byblus : and by
him w'as begot one Epigerus, or Autochthon, whom
they afterwards called Uranus [heaven] ; so that from
him that element which is over us, by reason of its ex¬
cellent beauty, is called heaven; and he had a sister of
the same parents called Ge [the earth] ; and by reason
of her beauty the earth had her name given to it.
Hypsistus, the father of these, dying in fight with
wild beasts, was consecrated, and his children offered
sacrifices and libations to him.—But Uranus taking
the kingdom of his father, married his sister Ge, and
had by her four sons ; Hus, who is called Cronus, [or
Saturn] ; Betylus ; .Dagon, who is Siton, or the god
of corn ; and Atlas: but by other wives Uranus had
much issue.
As to the customs, policy, and other general cir¬
cumstances of the Antediluvians, we can only form
conjectures.
The only thing we know as to their religious rites is,
that they offered sacrifices, and that very early, both of
the fruits of the earth and of animals ; but whether the
blood and flesh of the animals, or only their milk and
wool, were offered, is a disputed point.— I(j
Of their arts and sciences, we have not much more Art*, &c. 0
to say. The Antediluvicns seem to have spent theirdie Antedi-
time rather in luxury and wantonness, to which theiuviaus*
abundant fertility of the first earth invited them, than
in discoveries or improvements, which probably they
stood much less in need of than their successors. The
art of working metals was found out by the last gene¬
ration of Cain’s line; and music, which they might be
supposed to practise for their pleasure, was not brought
to any perfection, if invented, before the same genera¬
tion. Some authors have supposed astronomy to have
been cultivated by the Antediluvians, though this is
probably owing to a mistake of Josephus r but it is to
be presumed, the progress they made therein, or in any
other science, was not extraordinary; it being even
very doubtful whether letters were so much as known
before the flood. See Alphabet.
As to their politics and civil constitutions, we have
not so much as any circumstances whereon to build con¬
jecture. It is probable, the patriarchal form of go¬
vernment, which certainly was the first, was set aside
when tyranny and oppression began to take place, and
much sooner among the race of Cain than that of Seth.
It seems also that their communities were but few, and
consisted
2
ANT r 413 ] ANT
AntetUlu- consisted of vastly larger numbers of people than any
vians. formed since the flood : or rather, it is a question, whe-
'Y—ther, after the union of the two great families of Seth
and Cain, there were any distinction of civil societies, or
diversity of regular governments, at all. It is more like¬
ly, that all mankind then made but one great nation,
though living in a kind of anarchy, divided into several
disorderly associatidns 5 which, as it was almost the
natural consequence of their having, in all probability,
but one common language, so it was a circumstance
which greatly contributed to that general corruption
which otherwise perhaps could not have so universally
overspread the Antediluvian world. And for this rea¬
son chiefly, as it seems, so soon as the posterity of
Noah were sufficiently increased, a plurality of tongues
was miraculously introduced, in order to divide them
into distinct societies, and thereby prevent any such
total depravation for the future. See Confusion of
Tongues.
Of the condition of the Antediluvians, Mr Whitehurst,
in his Inquiry into the original state andformation of the
*P. 282, earth*, has given us the following picture : “ Under a
mild and serene sky, and when the spontaneous pro¬
ductions of the earth were more than sufficient for the
calls of nature, without art or labour, mankind had
no need of any other protection from the inclemency
of the seasons, nor of barns for winter’s store, than
the benevolent Author of nature had plentifully pro¬
vided for them. Consequently, in a state of nature like
this, there was no temptation to acts of violence, in¬
justice, fraud, &c.; every one having plenty and enough,
each equally partook of the numerous blessings thus
amply provided for him. Power and property being
equally diffused, men lived together in perfect peace
and harmony, without law, and without fear ; there¬
fore it may be truly said of the Antediluvians, that
they slept away their time in sweet repose on the ever-
verdant turf. Such apparently was the state of nature
in the first ages of the world, or from the creation to
the first convulsion in nature, whereby the world was
not only universally deluged, but reduced to a heap of
ruins.” But our ingenious author, whose Inquiry is
not professedly repugnant to revelation, seems here to
have lost himself in a pleasing reverie. At least he has
forgot to inform us, For what purpose, under such
circumstances, he supposes the deluge to have been sent
upon the earth j and, How we are to understand the
account given by Moses, who represents the Antedilu¬
vians, not as an innocent race, quietly reposing on the
ever-verdant turf, but as a corrupt generation, by whom.
17 “ the earth was filled with violence.”
Of the Ion- One of the most extraordinary circumstances which
ttevity of occurs in the Antediluvian history, is the vast length of
ju^ia^nte^* human lives in those first ages, in comparison with our
own. Few persons now arrive at eighty or an hun¬
dred years j whereas, before the flood, they frequently
lived to near a thousand : a disproportion almost incre¬
dible, though supported by the joint testimonies of sa¬
cred and profane writers. Some, to reconcile the
matter with probability, have imagined that the ages-
cf those first men might possibly be computed, not by
solar years, but months $ an expedient which reduces
the length of their lives rather to a shorter period than
our own. But for this thex-e is not the least founda¬
tion; besides the many absurdities that would thence
follow, such as their begetting children at about six Antedifa-
years of age, as some of them in that case must have vians.
done, and the contracting of the whole interval be-—-v—-i
tween the creation and the deluge to considerably less
than two hundred years, even according to the larger
computation of the Septuagint.
Again : Josephus, the Jewish historian, and some
Christian divines, are of opinion, that before the flood,
and some time after, mankind in general did not live
to such a remarkable age, but only a few beloved of
God, such as the patriarchs mentioned by Moses.
They reason in this manner: Though the historian re¬
cords the names of some men, whose longevity was sin¬
gular, yet that is no proof that the rest of mankind
attained to the same period of life, more than that
every man was then of a gigantic stature, because he
says, in those days there were giants upon the earth.
Besides, had the whole of the Antediluvians lived so
very long, and increased in numbers in proportion to
their age, before the flood of Noah, the earth could
not have contained its inhabitants, even supposing no
part of it had been sea. And had animals lived as
long, and multiplied in the same manner as they have
done afterwards, they would have consumed the whole
produce of the globe, and the stronger would have ex¬
tinguished many species of the weaker. Hence they
conclude, that for wise and good ends, God extended
only the lives of the patriarchs, and a few beside, to
such an extraordinary length.
But most writers maintain the longevity of man¬
kind in general in the early world, not only upon the
authority of sacred, but likewise of profane history.
And for such a constitution, the moral reasons are
abundantly obvious. When the earth was wholly un- e
peopled, except by one pair, it was necessary to endow‘onsfOI!^i"s
men with a stronger frame, and to allow them a longeriongevity,
continuance upon earth for peopling it with inhabi¬
tants. In the infant state of every mechanical art, re¬
lating to tillage, building, clothing, &c. it would re¬
quire many years experience to invent proper tools and
instruments to ease men of their labour, and by multi¬
plied essays and experiments to bring their inventions-
to any degree of maturity and perfection. Every part
of their work must have been exceedingly arduous from
such a penury and coarseness of tools, and must have re¬
quired longer time and more strength of body than af¬
terwards, when mechanical knowledge was introduced
into the world. If parents at this period had not con¬
tinued long with their children, to have taught them
the arts of providing for themselves, and have defended
them from the attacks of wild beasts, and from other
injuries to which they were exposed, many families
would have been totally extinguished. But one of
the best and most valuable ends which longevity would
answer was, the transmitting of knowledge, particularly
of religious knowledge, to mankind. And thus, be¬
fore writing was invented, or any such easy and dur¬
able mode of conveyance was found out, a very few
men served for many generations to instruct their poste¬
rity, who would not lie at a loss to consult living and
authentic records.
The natural causes of this longevity are variously as-
signed. Some have imputed it to the sobriety of the causcs
Antediluvians, and the simplicity of their diet j alleging
that they had none of those provocations to gluttony,
which
ANT [4
Antedilu- which wit and vice have since invented. Temperance
vjans. might undoubtedly have some effect, but not possibly
   t0 guch a degree. There have been many temperate
and abstemious persons in later ages, who yet seldom
have exceeded the usual period.—Others have thought
that the long lives of those inhabitants of the old world
proceeded from the strength of their stamina, or first
principles of their bodily constitutions : which might,
indeed, be a concurrent, but not the sole and adequate
cause of their longevity 5 for Shem, who was born be¬
fore the deluge, and had all the virtue of the antedilu¬
vian constitution, fell three hundred years short of the
age of his forefathers, because the greatest part of his
life was passed after the flood.—Others have imputed
the longevity of the Antediluvians to the excellency of
their fruits, and some peculiar virtue in the herbs and
phants of those days. But to this supposition it has
been objected, that as the earth was cursed immediately
after the fall, its productions we may suppose gradually
decreased in their virtue and goodness till the flood $
and yet we do not see the length of men’s lives decrease
considerably, if at all, during that interval. Waving this
objection, as the import of the curse is variously inter¬
preted, it appears certain that the productions of the
earth were at first, and probably continued till after
the deluge, of a different nature, from what they were
in future times. Buffon supposes this diflerence may
have continued gradually to diminish for many ages
subsequent to that catastrophe. The surface of the
globe (according to his theory) was in the first ages
of the world less solid and compact; because, gravity
having acted only for a short time, terrestrial bodies
had not acquired their present density and consistence.
The produce of the earth, therefore, must have been
analogous to its condition. The surface being more
loose and moist, its productions would of course be
more ductile and capable of extension. Their growth,
therefore, and even that of the human body, would re¬
quire a longer time of being completed. The softness
and ductility of the bones, muscles, &c. would pro¬
bably remain for a longer period, because every species
of food was more soft and succulent. Hence" the full
expansion of the human body, or when it was capable
of generating, must have required 120 or 130 years $
and the duration of life would be in proportion to the
time of growth, as is uniformly the case at present :
For if we suppose the age of puberty, among the first
races of men, to have been 130 years, as they now ar¬
rive at that age in 14 years, the age of the Antedilu¬
vians wdll be in exact proportion to that of the present
race ; since by multiplying these two numbers by seven,
for example, the age of the present race will be 98,
and that of ther Antediluvians will be 910. The pe¬
riod of man’s existence, therefore, may have gradually
diminished in proportion as the surface of the earth ac¬
quired more solidity by the constant action of gravity:
and it is probable that the period from the creation,
to the days of David, was sufficient to give the earth
all the density it was capable of receiving from the in¬
fluence of gravitation ; and consequently"that the sur¬
face of the earth has ever since remained in the same
state, and that the terms of growth in the productions
of the earth, as well as the duration of life, have been
invariably fixed from that period.
It has been further supposed, that a principal cause
Antedii
'nans.
flood.
14 ] ANT
of the longevity under consideration was the wholesome
constitution of the Antediluvian air, which, after the
deluge, became corrupted and unwholesome, breaking,
by degrees, the pristine crasis of the body, and shorten¬
ing men’s lives, in a very few ages, to near the pre¬
sent standard.
The temperature of the air and seasons before that
catastrophe are upon very probable grounds supposed
to have been constantly uniform and mild : the burn¬
ing heats of summer and the severities of winter’s cold
were not then come forth, but spring and autumn
reigned perpetually together : And indeed, the cir¬
cumstance above all others most conducive to the pro¬
longation of human life in the postdiluvian world, ap¬
pears to be an equal and benign temperature of cli¬
mate (see the article Longevity) ; whence it seems
reasonable to infer* that the same cause might have pro¬
duced the same effect in the Antediluvian world.
Whether flesh was permitted to be eaten before the^g^
deluge, is a question which has been much debated, any flesb
By the permission expressly given to Noah, for that might be
purpose, after the flood, and God’s assigning Vege-eatenbe
tables only for food to man, as well as beast, at theforetlie
creation, one would imagine it was not lawful before :
yet others have supposed, that it was included in the
general grant of power and dominion given to Adam
by God over the animal creation $ and the distinction
of beasts into clean and unclean, which w7as well
known before the flood, is insisted on as a strong argu¬
ment on this side.
But in answer to this it has been observed that, if
so, it does not appear what occasion there was to re¬
new this grant after the flood, and to add, “ Every
moving thing that liveth shall be food for you, even
as the green herb have I given you all things.” This
surely implies that the green herb and fruits of the
trees were all that was granted to man at first; but
now, over and above that, was added the grant of
animal food ; for in a deed of gift, all is specified that
is given or granted, and whatever is not expressly men¬
tioned is excluded, or not given. Here man’s food is
appointed and specified 5 what is not expressly men¬
tioned is therefore reserved and not granted. Besides,
his grant or appointment of man’s food respected not
Adam only, but all his posterity, till an additional
grant was made.
To the animals no further grant was made than at
first; but to man another was made immediately after
his fall and expulsion from Paradise, implied in these
words : “ In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat
bread, till thou return unto the ground.” This was in
truth a punishment for his transgression, as well as a
grant of other food, but yet what was now become
necessary to him. Paradise no doubt was planted
with the most excellent fruits, sufficient to have sus¬
tained his life in health and vigour in his innocent
state; but after his transgression, being thrust out from
that happy abode, and having then only the fruits of
the common earth to feed on ; which were not so nu¬
tritious as those of Paradise, he stood in need of some¬
thing else to sustain life ; and therefore bread produced
by culture and other preparations for his food was now
added, which before w’as not necessary, and thence call¬
ed the staff of life. This seems a plain reason why bread
was added after he came to live on the common earth ;
though
ANT [ 415 ] ANT
dediiu- though perhaps another reason also for that addition
rians. may be given from the change that happened in man’s
-v body after his fall. Bread being now become the staff
of life, Cain, the first man born, became a tiller of the
ground, or an husbandman j as the next in birth, Abel,
became a keeper or feeder of sheep.
As to the distinction between clean and unclean, this
solely respected animals offered in sacrifice in the Ante¬
diluvian world j as is evident from hence, that Noah,
upon his coming out of the ark, “ took of every clean
beast and of every clean fowl, and offered burnt offer¬
ings unto the Lord $” and that upon the grant of ani¬
mal food to him and his posterity, which was posterior
in time to the sacrifice, there is not the least mention
of any distinction between clean and unclean with re¬
spect to food, but the very contrary, since the grant
runneth : “ Every moving thing that liveth shall be
meat for you, even as the green herb have I given you
all things.” That distinction of clean and unclean as
to food, came in with the law of Moses, and was differ¬
ent from that of sacrifices, there being several crea¬
tures clean for food which were not to be offered in sa¬
crifice.
But another objection here occurs. What occasion
was there for keeping sheep, when none of them could
be eaten P In answer to this it has been observed,
that sheep and other animals might at this period
be of great use to men besides yielding them food.
Their flocks, no doubt, consisted of such creatures as
were of the domestic kind, and such a's by the divine
law were pronounced clean and fit for being offer¬
ed in sacrifice j therefore numbers would be kept for
this very purpose. Their skins, besides serving men
as garments, might answer many other valuable inten¬
tions. Vestments of hair and wool soon succeeded the
ruder coverings of skins j consequently great profit
would be derived from such animals as could be shorn,
especially in countries where the inhabitants led a pas¬
toral life and dwelt in tents. And we afterwards find
that Abel’s sacrifice was of this kind. They might use
several of these animals, as they still do in some parts
of the world, for bearing of burdens and drawing of
carriages : for we may take it for granted that the first
inventions for easing men of labour, would be of the
simplest kind, and such as came easiest to hand. But
keeping flocks of sheep, goats, and such like, would be
of great utility, by affording quantities of milk, which
is found to be the most nourishing diet both to the young
and the old ; and their carcases, though not used as
food, might answer some useful purposes perhaps in ma-
During the soil.
crease of The Antediluvian world was, in all probability,
inkind stocked with a much greater number of inhabitants
tore the than the present earth either actually does, or perhaps
is capable of containing or supplying. This seems na¬
turally to follow from the great length of their lives,
which exceeding the present standard of life in the pro¬
portion, at least, of ten to one, the Antediluvians must
accordingly in any long space of time double them¬
selves, at least in about the tenth part of the time in
which mankind do now double themselves. It has
been supposed that they began to beget children as
early, and left off as late, in proportion, as men do
now j and that the several children of the same father
succeeded as quickly one after another as they usually Antediiu-
do at this day : and as many generations, which are vians.
but successive with us, were contemporary before the 1 ' v
flood, the number of people living on the earth at
once would be by that means sufficiently increased to
answer any defect which might arise from other cir¬
cumstances not considered. So that, if we make a com¬
putation on these principles, we shall find, that there
was a considerable number of people in the world at the
death of Abel, though their father Adam was not then
130 years old ; and that the number of mankind before
the deluge would easily amount to above one hundred
thousand millions (even according to the Samaritan
chronology), that is, to twenty times as many as our
present earth has, in all probability, now upon it, or
can well be supposed capable of maintaining in its pre¬
sent constitution.
The following table, made upon the above-mention¬
ed principles by Mr Whiston, shows at least what a
number of people might have been in the Antediluvian
world.
= 3
?r cr
!-•
4
8
16
32
64
128
256
512
1024
2048
4096
8192
16,384
32,768
6S,S36
i3i,°72
262,144
524,288
1,048,576
2,097,152
4»I94,3°4
8,388,608
16,777,216
33>554>432
67,108,864
134,217,728
268,435,456
536,870,912
i,o73>74i>824
2,i47>483.648
4,294,967,296
8>589>934>592
17,179,869,184
34>359>738>368
68,719,476,736
i37>438>953>472
274’877>9°6*944
549>755>8i3>888
n
^ S3
o '1
2
6
12
20
30
42
56
72
90
no
132
156
182
210
24O
272
306
342
380
420
462
506
552
600
650
702
756
812
870
930
992
IO56
1122
II90
1260
1332
1406
1482
O H*
c n
cr p
cl’s.
10
12
14
16
18
20
22
24
26
28
30
32
34
S6
38
40
42
44
46
48
50
52
54
56
58
60
62
64
66
68
70
72
74
76
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
J3
14
J5
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
S2
33
34
35
36
37
38
But:
table.
ANT [41
Antedilu- But according to a later * writer upon the subject,
vians. the above table, though the numbers there may be
* Coc/Wwmth°ught sufficient for the peopling of the earth, we
upon the could' by no means depend upon, for several reasons $
Deluge. particularly,
22 I. It is laid down there as a foundation, that the An-
tcffih-ivians would double themselves every 40 years $ as
Wliiston’s intleed they would, and in less time, after there came to
be IOO marriages. Now, had the author observed this
regular progression in his computation, by adding forty
years to every former period of the age of the world,
the amount, instead of two millions of millions, &c.
would have been above five millions of millions at the
year 1656, the age of the world at the deluge, accord¬
ing to the Hebrew numbers, which he contends for.
What would the sum then have been, had we carried
on the computation for 600 years more, according to
the Septuagint ?
2. He supposes the period of doubling must have been
much shorter in the earliest ages, and much longer in
the later, contrary to reason and fact. For mankind
being sprung from one pair only, the increase at first
must have been very slow, but come on very fast when
a considerable number were married. His table there¬
fore is made not regularly, but according to fancy, by
unequal starts or chasms at great intervals in the latter
part, where it should have been most regular 5 it would
seem with no other view than to raise such a number,
upon the whole, as might be thought sufficient to peo¬
ple the earth.
3. In that calculation the two material points, the
time of nursing and the age of puberty, are quite
overlooked, by which all computations of the numbers
in the Antediluvian world must be regulated. What
unavoidable mistakes this omission must occasion, will
be seen by examining the first ten numbers of the said
table.
6 ]
ANT
bo
a
s
> 0
SS '-3
2
6
12
20
3°
42
56
72
90
no
c« «
v a
.5
&
2
4
8
16
32
64
128
256
IO24
2048
Adam and Eve.
Cain and Abel,
Cockbuni,
g). 108,
On this table it may be observed, 1. That though
there were but two persons created at first, this compu-
tation makes four persons in the second year of the
world. This could not possibly be, except Cain had
been born within 12 months after the creation, which
is highly improbable, and Abel in the second year, yet
far more improbable ; and in that case Eve could not
have suckled Cain.
2. In the sixth year of the world we have eight per¬
sons, that is, six children of Eve’s in six years. “ But
(our author adds) what shall Eve do with six infants
m six years ? Where could she find so many wet nurses
for them ? Or would the mother of all living deny her
children that nourishment which the Creator had ap¬
pointed for their first food, the milk in her breasts ?
Do they consider that there was but one woman in the ,
■world to do for herself, her husband, and her children,
what belongs to women to do ? WTe should surely have 1
more respect and compassion for the mother of all man¬
kind, than to lay such an intolerable burden upon her,
whose sorrow for her own deception, and thereby ruin¬
ing both herself and her husband, must have been very
great for many years. In punishment of which, though
God had said he would greatly midtiply her sorrow and
conception, the meaning was not, that she should have
a child every year, which could not be, because the na¬
ture of that food and nourishment appointed by himself
for her children would not permit it. Nor yet when he
commanded them to increase and midtiply and replenish
the earth, could the command be obeyed in such a man¬
ner as was contrary to the order of nature and provi¬
dence. But the method intended to answer the design
of the command was to prolong their lives to above 800
and 900 years, and their prolific powers for 340 and
360 years of that term of life, that by slow and sure and
long continuance of increase they might people the
earth in due time.”
3. The same exception lies to all the following pe¬
riods of doubling, where the number far exceeds what
it could possibly be in fact 5 but we shall pass them
over, and come to the last of them in the year no, in
which the number of mankind is made 2048. Now in
the year no, not one of Adam’s children was married,
because not yet come to the age of puberty. In that
year of the world there could be no more than 18 or
20 persons, at single births, besides Adam and Eve.
It is a great mistake therefore to imagine, that the pe¬
riods of doubling were much shorter in the earlier times
than in the latter) the contrary of which is evident to
reason.
According to our author, two errors have been fallen
into in treating of this point; namely, 1. That in the^ >
first ages of the world, both before and after the Flood, P'
men began to propagate their kind as early as they
commonly do at present. 2. That the children of the
same father succeeded one after another as fast as they
do now, that is, that the women brought forth chil¬
dren every year. The first of these errors he confutes,
by shewing that the several periods or stages of man’s Qf the aj
life bear a just proportion to one another, and to theofpubert
whole term of life; and that the period of puberty or among tl
maturity has not been the same at all times, but is ac-A.ntediH
cording to the length or brevity of life in the differentYlans’
ages of the world, according to that remark of St Au¬
gustine, Tanto serior fuit proportione pubertas, quanto
vitce totius major annositas. Moses, he observes, gives
the age of the world from the creation to the deluge,
and from that period to his own time, chiefly by gene¬
rations. A generation is the interval of years between
the births of father and son. This the Latins call
cetas, and the Greeks ymu. Now, a generation, or
the interval of years between father and son, has not
been, neither possibly could be, the same in all ages
from the beginning, as Vossius justly observes ; but has
varied greatly according to the length or brevity of
man’s life in the several periods of the world. Since
the ordinary term of man’s life has been reduced to
70 and 80 years, the time of puberty is in proportion
to this brevity of life, and reckoned at 20 or 21, which
is the fourth part of a life of fourscore. The several
ANT [ 417 ] ANT
if* are infancy, childhood, youth, ginning as is imagined ; that the time of nursing above Antedilu
24
Of the
time allot-
ed for nur¬
sing in
those ear¬
ly days.
_. 25
Distance
between
the births.
stages of human
manhood, full age, declension, old or decrepit age j
all which commonly bear a proportion to the whole
term of life. Now the bounds and limits of these se¬
veral stages cannot be precisely the same in all, but
vary in respect of the disposition of men’s bodies, their
course of life, and also the places and ages in which
they live. In the Antediluvian world then, when men
lived to upwards of 800 and 900 years, can it be
thought that they passed through the several stages of
life in as short time as men do now, who seldom ex¬
ceed 80, and not one in ten arrives at that age P But
if the Antediluvians arrived at puberty or manhood as
soon as men do now, then would the several stages of
human life have been lost or confounded, and men
would have started from childhood to manhood at once,
without any due or regular intervals, contrary to the or¬
der of nature : But if, according to the present economy
of nature, man is but a youth at 20, which is a fourth
part of our term of life, we may reasonably conclude,
there would be a suitable proportion of years in a much
longer term of life, since nature is constant and uni¬
form in her operations. And though in so long a life
as the Antediluvians enjoyed, the time of puberty might
be a fifth or sixth part of their term of life, yet would
they be but youths at 150 or 160 ; which bears much
the same proportion to the whole of their life as 20 is
to that of ours.
The other is an error, he thinks, which could never
have been fallen into, had it been considered that every
mother suckled her own children in those early days :
and indeed where could she have found another to have
done it for her ?
Taking it for granted, then, that it was an univer¬
sal custom for women to suckle their children as well
before as after the flood, the next question is, for how
long time they continued nurses ? He shows various
instances, that when man’s life was reduced to 130 or
140 years, the ordinary time of nursing was two years j
he thence infers, that for three or four generations af¬
ter the flood, when men lived to about 400 years, the
time would be so much longer in proportion, and would
not be less than three or four years 5 and consequently,
that before the flood, when life was protracted to 800
or 900 years, it would be still longer, in proportion to
their longevity 5 so that five years might be the ordi¬
nary time of nursing in the old world ; and there¬
fore that we cannot reckon less than six years between
the births. For man’s life being prolonged to so ma¬
ny hundred years at first for the more speedy peopling
of the earth, he came by slow degrees to mature age,
there being a long time required to rear up a body that
was to last near 1000 years. The intervals, therefore,
of infancy, childhood, youth, and mature age, were so
much longer in proportion to ours as the difference is
between our term of life and theirs : and 150 or 160
years, with respect to their longevity, was no more in
proportion than 20 is to the brevity of our life. As
the Antediluvians therefore were so very long in grow¬
ing up to mature age, he concludes, that the time of
nursing could not be shorter than five years, and that
the distance between the births in a regular way must
be set at six years.
Upon the whole, he thinks it evident that there
could be no such speedy increase of mankind at the be-
Vol. II. Part II. f
specified wras no more than necessary for that strength vians.
of constitution which was to last for 800 and 900 years • —v—
and that women who w’ere to continue bearing children
for 340 or 360 years of their life, should have them but
slowly and at the distance of several years, that their
strength might hold out, and that they might not be
overburdened with too many cares at once ; and there¬
fore when Eve’s first child was six years old, it was
time enough for her to have another, and so on, though
possibly sometimes twins. 26
These points being discussed, he proceeds, 1. To com- Cockburn’s
pute what number upon the whole might be born intoc®^u*a4on
the world from the creation to near the time of the de- cl,case uf
luge; and then, 2. To state the needful deductions for mankind,
deaths and other deficiencies.
1. I. How long the parents of mankind continued in
paradise, we know not j though longer perhaps than is
commonly imagined. We shall even suppose two or
three years, in which time there was no child born,
nor any attempt towards it. We shall allow them two
or three years more to lament their fall, and the miser¬
able estate their want of faith and disobedience bad
brought them to, from a most happy condition ; and
suppose Cain to be born six years after the creation (in
which supposition few, probably, will be apt to think
us too hasty), and Abel again six years after him, and
so every sixth year Eve to have had a child, the first
seven, eight, or nine whereof probably were all males
(the males being longer in coming to maturity than the
females) ; and this distance between the births will also
be thought a sufficient allowance. At this rate of in¬
crease Adam would have in 100 years 16 children, in
2Q0 years 32, and in 400 years 64 children ; when we
will suppose Eve to have left off child-bearing. Nor
need the number of Adam’s children be thought too
great, when there are instances in those later ages, and
this short period of man’s life, of those who have had 40
children at single births by two successive wives, and
of many others who have had 20, 25, and 30, by one
wife; though in such cases it is not to be supposed that
the women suckled their children.
2. Though it is reasonable to think that the Ante¬
diluvians, notwithstanding their longevity, came to
mature age at 150 5 yet, as we are not sure that they
all married so soon as they were ripe for marriage, and
that the earliest in the genealogies is born in the i62d
year of his father, who might probably be a first born,
our author does not suppose Cain, Abel, or any of the
succeeding children or grandchildren of Adam to have
married till they were 160, but to have had children
from 161 or 162 till they were of the age of 500,
at the fore-named distance or interval between the
births ; though Noah we know had three sons after he
was 500, at the due intervals. And to all the Ante¬
diluvians we may allow, without fear of exceeding, 50
or 54 children in general, according to the course of
nature, and the longevity of those first ages of the
world.
3. Let us next inquire in what number of years the
men of that world might double themselves, notwith¬
standing the long intervals between the births. T he
increase indeed will be found very small for the first
300 or 400 years, as they were late in coming to ma¬
turity j but the succeeding ages will swell the account
3 G exceedingly.
A
N
ANT [ 418 ]
T
Antedilu- exceedingly. Let us suppose at present (what shall be
T)ans» proved afterwards) that in the year of the world 500,
_ there were 200 persons only, male and female, of full
age to marry, the men at 160, the women at 120 or
thereabout. The first or second year after the mar¬
riage will probably produce 100 births from 100
couple, and every sixth year after 100 more. At this
slow progression the 200 married persons will, in 19 or
20 years, be increased to 600: so that the number of
mankind would be trebled in 20 years, after there came
100 pair to be married. And in this manner they
would increase and multiply every 20 years, or in that
space treble themselves.
It may perhaps be objected, that though it appears
that such an increase might be at first from the first
ico marriages, yet they could not continue thus to
multiply at such periods j because, according to the
rule we have laid down, none of the issue of these 100
first marriages could increase the number of mankind
till the men had attained the age of 160. It is true
they could not: but then it must be remembered, that
the first 100 pair are still adding every sixth year 100
more to the number of mankind, even till after the 400
born in the first 20 years are married, and begin a new
stock for increase $ so that when there came to be some
hundred couples married, the increase and multiplication
would come on very fast, and in 1000 years mankind
would be prodigiously increased.
But though there be nothing in this supposition con¬
trary to reason, viz.. That after the year of the world
500, they might treble themselves in 20 years $ yet
we will not reckon upon so short an interval, but will
allow a much longer time even to their doubling them¬
selves, and shall exhibit two tables of doubling j the
first at the interval of 50 years (much too long indeed),
the other at the interval of 40 years, and both begin¬
ning at the year 500, when there could not be fewer
(whatever more there might be) than 100 married or
marriageable persons descended from Adam and Eve.
Years of the World.
COO
550
600
650
700
750
800
850
900
950
IOOO
IO50
1100
II50
1200
I25O
130°
135°
1400
J450
I coo
355°
1600
1650
Number of Mankind.
200
- 400
- 800
1,600
3,200
- 6,400
12,800
25,600
51,200
102,400
- 204,400
- 409,600
819,200
- 1,638.400
3,276,800
- 6>5J3>5°0
- 13,107,200
- 26,214,400
- 52,428,800
- 104,857,600
- 209,715,200
- 4I9»430>400
- 838,860,800
I^77»72i,6oo
Years of the World.
1700
*75°
1800
1850
1900
I95°
2000
2050
This table is calculated at the long interval of 50
years, that it may appear that even by under-rating the
number of mankind, there would be so many millions
born into the world before the deluge came, that they
would be obliged to spread themselves over the face of
the earth, though but one half of the sum total of
429,496 millions had been alive at the time of the de¬
luge j but as the interval here allowed may appear to
be too long for the time of doubling, the second is cal¬
culated at the interval of 40 years, which comes nearer
to the truth of the case, though even this may exceed
the time of doubling.
Years of the World. Number of Mankind.
Number of Mankind. Antedilu.
3>335>443>200 vians-
6,710,886,500 l—v—■
13,421,772,800
26,843,545,600
53,687,091,200
107,374»I82,40o
214,748,364,800
429,496,729,600
coo
540
580
620
660
700
740
780
820
860
900
940
980
1020
I060
1100
1140
1180
1220
1260
1300
I34°
1380
1420
1460
1500
*540
1580
1620
1660
1700
174°
1780
1820
i860
1900
1940
1980
2020
200
400
800
1,600
3,200
6,400
- - 12,800
25,600
- 51,200
- - 102,400
- - 204,800
- - 409,600
- 819,200
1,638,400
3,276,800
6,553,600
13,107,200
26,214,400
52,428,800
104,857,600
209,715,200
419,430,400
838,860,800
1,677,721,600
3>355>443>200
6,710,886,400
13,421,772,800
- 26,843,545,600
53,687,091,200
- 107,374,182,400
- 214,748,304,800
- 429,496,729,600
- 858>993>459>200
1,717,986,918,400
3>435>973>836>8°o
6,871,947,673,600
I3>743>895’347*200
27>487>790»634»4°o
54>975»58i»388>8o°
The first table is brought down no lower than to
the year 2050, and the second to the year 2020,
though
ANT [ 419 ] ANT
Antedilu- thougli there remain by the first 206, and by the se-
vians. cond 236 years to the flood : the reason is, that in
1 v ' those last 200 years of the world, mankind would not
increase in any measure equal to what they had done
in the preceding years (though regularly the increase
should have been much greater) j because that violence
was then great in the earth, and thousands, yea mil¬
lions, might have been cut off by untimely deaths ; for
which cause the world’s destruction was determined 120
years before the flood came.
Objection II. But now against this immense number of man-
answered. kind that might in a regular and ordinary way have
been born into the world between the creation and the
deluge in 2056 years, it will no doubt be objected by
some (as it has been done to far less numbers), that all
such calculations are mere guess work, the product of
fruitful imaginations.
But it should be considered, that in calculations of
this nature some regular order or method must be ob¬
served : and though, according to the course of nature
such an increase and multiplication of mankind there
might have been periodically, especially at the begin¬
ning, when the command was to increase and multiply
and replenish the earth ; yet we will not suppose that
all things went on thus regularly, without difference or
interruption. We do not know what extraordinary ob¬
structions or interruptions there might be to such a re¬
gular increase. Though every married pair might by
the course of nature have had such a number of chil¬
dren as has been mentioned, yet the Divine Providence
might order it otherwise in manifold instances, and it
might possibly be in the old world, as it has been since
the flood, viz. that some marriages have produced ma¬
ny children, others few, and some none at all. Al¬
lowing, therefore, for all such obstructions and deficien¬
cies, and likewise for all casualties and accidents (to
which men might be liable in that world as well as in
the present), in as ample a manner as can be desired,
let the former number be reduced to one half, viz. to
27,487,790,694,400, that is, 27 billions, or millions
of millions, four hundred and eighty-seven thousand
seven hundred and ninety millions, six hundred and
ninety-four thousand and four hundred. And this we
shall now suppose to be the whole number of those who
were born into the world before the deluge. But from
this sum is to be subtracted the number of those who
died before that time.
Of those in the genealogies from Adam by Seth,
Enoch was translated at the age of 365, Lamech the
father of Noah died just before the flood at 753, Ma-
halaleel at 895. Adam and the other five patriarchs
lived to about 900. Before the year 900, therefore,
we may suppose there were no deaths except that of
Abel, who was slain, a young man, but that all born
within that period vvere alive altogether. But in the
tenth century death began to reign, and Adam and
Eve, we may presume, were the first over whom death
had power in a natural way, as their disobedience was
the cause of it. The children also born of them in the
first hundred years would also die in this 10th century,
those born in the second hundred would die in the nth,
those born in the third century would die in the 12th,
and so on. But though we are far from thinking that
after the beginning of the 10th century (till w-hich
time few or none died), the deaths would be equal to
the births 5 yet as we have made large concessions all Antidi'u-
along, we shall do the same in this case, and suppose vians.
them upon the whole to have been equal, especially l—“*-'v— ■-
since we cannot precisely say how long that violence or
bloodshed, which was their crying sin, came to prevail j
and therefore will reduce the last sum mentioned to one
half again, to allow for the deaths and prevailing vio¬
lence, and suppose the total number of mankind alive
upon earth at the time of the deluge to have been no
more than 13,743,895,347,200, that is, 13 billions
or millions of millions, seven hundred and forty-three
thousand eight hundred and ninety-five millions, three
hundred and forty-seven thousand and two hundred j
a number vastly exceeding that of the present inhabi¬
tants of the whole earth. jg
Notwithstanding the very large allowances and abate- Probability
ments made to reduce the number of mankind, yet even of the a-
the last reduction to 13 billions or millions of millions,
&c. seems so vastly great, that it will hardly be thought
possible that such a number of men could ever be at one
time upon the earth. Now, though we pretend to no
certainty in this point (which made it the more requi¬
site to allow largely for deaths and deficiencies), yet
the calculation we have given must appear highly pro¬
bable, since it is founded uport grounds certain and un¬
deniable : for instance,
1. It cannot be denied but that the Antediluvians
were come to the age of puberty and marriage at 160
years, when we find a son born in 162. Nor,
2. Can it be said, that they could not have children
at the age of 500, when we have an instance of one
that had three sons at due distances after that age.
Neither,
3. Can it be alleged that we have not allowed a due
distance or interval between the births, viz. six years,
when most will be of opinion that it could not be so
long. Nor yet,
4. Can it be judged that we have made the period of
doubling far too short, when we had before showed that
after 100 marriages consummated, they would treble
themselves in half the time we have taken for their
doubling. Nor,
5. Will any one make a doubt, but that there might
be 200 persons of mature age for marriage in the year
of the world 500, the men at 160, the women young¬
er. Nevertheles, as this is the foundation of our cal¬
culation, we shall now show that there was at least such
a number of persons marriageable at that age of the
world.
It may be observed, that as we take 160 for the
years of maturity and marriage, according to that pe¬
riod all married or marriageable in the year 500 must
have been born in or before the year 340 ; the males at
least, though the females, coming sooner to maturity,
might some of them be born later or after the year 380.
Now, according to this stated period of marriage,
1. In or before the year 340, Adam might have had
54 children, males and females, or 27 pair married or
fit for marriage.
2. Cain, whom We suppose to be but six years
younger than Adam (which by the by is more than
others allow), and to have married in the year 166,
might have in the year 340, 28 children, or 14 pair
fit for marriage, which added to the former, makes
41 pair.
3 G 2
3. Abel,
ANT [ 420 ] ANT
Antedilu- 3. Abe], married six years later, that is, in the year
vians 172, and whom we shall suppose slain in the year 225
II . . or 226, could in that case have no more than eight or
Ancjjjjt]renj or four pair, which with the former make
45 PaIr* . . , . , o-n
4. Adam’s third son, married in the year 170, will
afford us in the year 340, 26 children, or 13 pair,
which increase the number of marrigeable persons to
58 pair.
5. A fourth son of Adam’s, married in the year 184,
will give us in the year 340, 25 children, or 12 pair j
which makes the number of pairs 70.
6. A fifth son of Adam’s, married in the year 190,
might in the year 340 have 24 children, or 12 pair
again, which increase the former number to 82 pair.
7. A sixth son of Adam’s, married in the year 196,
would have in the year 340, 22 children, or 11 pair j
which added to the former make up 93 pair.
8. A seventh son of Adam’s, married in the year
202, will, in the year 340, give us 20 children, or 10
pair : which makes in the whole 103 pair, already three
pair more than we reckoned upon. I need therefore
go no farther or to the eighth or ninth son ; but the
following eight or nine births I may reasonably take
to have been daughters, and married to the brothers
that preceded them.
Here are now no more than 14 children of Adam’s
married, who have given us the 100 pair we have rec¬
koned upon, and three over. We might yet have 13
pair to bring into the account, all born before the year
340, and marriageable in the year 500, which would
very much increase the number of mankind. And by
this the reader may perceive that we have been far from
building on uncertain or precarious foundations, since
we have omitted 13 pair more, which we might have
taken into the account. And if it be considered that
the command given to Adam was to increase and mul¬
tiply and replenish the earth, no doubt can be made,
but that his own and his children’s marriages were fruit¬
ful in the procreation of children, that the earth might
be inhabited.
ANTEGO. See Antigua.
ANTEJURAMENTUM, by our ancestors called
juramentum calumnice, an oath which anciently both
accuser and accused were to take before any trial or
purgation.—The accuser was to swear that he would
prosecute the criminal 5 and the accused to make oath,
on the day he was to undergo the ordeal, that he was
innocent of the crime charged against him.
ANTELOPE, in Zoology. See Capra.
ANTELUCAN, in ecclesiastical writers, is applied
to things done in the night or before day. We find
frequent mention of the antelucan assemblies (Ccetus
antelucani) of the ancient Christians, in times of per¬
secution, for religious worship.
ANTEMURALE, in the ancient military art, de¬
notes much the same with what the moderns call an
out-work.
ANTENATI, in modern English history, is chief¬
ly understood of the subjects of Scotland, born before
King James the I irst’s accession to the English crown,
and alive after it. In relation to these, those who
were born after the accession were denominated Postfia-
ti. The antenati were considered as aliens in England,
2
whereas the postnati claimed the privilege of natural AnteHa!,
subjects. |j
ANTENCLEMA, in Oratory, is where the whole Aniesta-i
defence of the person accused turns on criminating the , turc*
accuser. Such is the defence of Orestes, or the ora¬
tion for Milo: Occisus est, sed latro. Exsectus, sed
raptor.
ANTENICENE, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes
a thing or person prior to the first council of Nice.
We say the Antenicene faith, Antenicene creeds, An-
tenicene fathers.
ANTENNiE, in the history of insects, slender
bodies with which nature has furnished the heads
of these creatures, being the same with what in Eng¬
lish are called horns or feelers. See Entomology
Index.
ANTENOR, a Trojan prince, came into Italy, ex¬
pelled the Enganians on the river Po, and built the
city of Padua, where his tomb is said to be still ex¬
tant.
ANTEPAGMENTA, in the Ancient Architec¬
ture, the jambs of a door. They are also ornaments,
or garnishings, in carved work, of men, animals, &c.
made either of wood or stone, and set on the archi¬
trave.
ANTEPENULTIMA, in Grammar, the third syl¬
lable of a word from the end, or the last syllable but
two.
ANTEPILANI, in the Roman armies, a name
given to the hastati and principes, because they march¬
ed next before the triarii, who were called pilani.
AN1 EPILEPTICS, among physicians, medicines
esteemed good in the epilepsy.
ANTEPOSLTIQN, a grammatical figure, whereby
a word, which by the ordinary rules of syntax ought to
follow another, comes before it. As when, in the La¬
tin, the adjective is put before the substantive, the verb
before the nominative case, &c.
ANTEPREDICAMENTS, among logicians, cer¬
tain preliminary questions which illustrate the doctrine
of predicaments and categories.
ANTEQUIERA, a handsome town of Spain, in
the kingdom of Granada, divided into two parts, the
upper and lower. The upper is seated on a hill, and
has a castle : the lower stands in a fertile plain, and is
watered with a great number of brooks. There is a
large quantity of salt in the mountain $ and five miles
from the town, a spring famous for the cure of the gra¬
vel. W. Long. 4. 40. N. Lat. 36. 51.
ANTERIOR, denotes something placed before an¬
other, either- with respect to time or place.
ANTEROS, in Mythology, one of the two Cupids
who were the chief of the number. They are placed
at the foot of the Venus of Medicis j this is represented
with a heavy and sullen look, agreeably to the poeti¬
cal description of him, as the cause of love’s ceasing.
The other \vas called Eros.
ANTESIGNANI, in the Roman armies, soldiers
placed before the standards, in order to defend them,
according to Lipsiusj but Caesar and Livy mention
the antesignani as the first line, or first body, of heavy¬
armed troops. The velites, who used to skirmish be¬
fore the army, were likewise called antesignani.
ANTESTATURE, in Fortification, a small re¬
trenchment
ANT
Antesta- trenchment made of palisadoes, or sacks of earth, with
ture a view to dispute with an enemy the remainder of a
II piece of ground.
Antheste- ANTESTAitl, in Roman antiquity, signifies to
. u^a' bear witness against any one who refused to make his
appearance in the Roman courts of judicature, on the
day appointed, and according to the tenor of his bail.
The plaintiff, finding the defendant after such a breach
of his engagement, was allowed to carry him into court
by force, having first asked any of the persons present
to bear witness. The person asked to bear witness in
this case, expressed his consent by turning his right
ear,’ which was instantly taken hold of by the plaintiff,
and this was to answer the end of a subpoena. The
ear was touched upon this occasion, says Pliny, as be¬
ing the seat of memory, and therefore the ceremony
was a sort of caution to the party to remember his en¬
gagement.
ANTHELION. See Corona and Parhelion.
ANTHELIX, in Anatomy, the inward protuberance
of the external ear, being a semicircle within, and al¬
most parallel to the helix. See Anatomy.
ANTHELMINTICS, among physicians, medi¬
cines proper to destroy worms.
ANTHEM, a church song performed in cathedral
service by choristers, who sung alternately. It was used
to denote both psalms and hymns, when performed in
this manner. But, at present, anthem is used in a more
confined sense, being applied to certain passages taken
out of the Scriptures, and adapted to a particular solem¬
nity. Anthems were first introduced in the reformed
service of the English church, in the beginning of the
reign of Queen Elizabeth.
ANTI I EM IS, Chamomile. See Botany Index.
ANTHERA, in Botany, that part of the stamen
which is fixed on the top of the filamentum, within the
corolla : it contains the pollen or fine dust, which, when
mature, it emits for the impregnation of the plant, ac¬
cording to Linnaeus. The Apex of Ray, Tournef. and
Rivin. •, Capsula staminis, of Malpighi.
ANTHERICUM, Spider-Wort. See Botany
Index.
ANTHESPHORIA, in antiquity, a Sicilian festival
instituted in honour of Proserpine. The word is derived
from the Greek uvbog, flower, and qn^a, 1 carry ; be¬
cause that goddess was forced away by Pluto when she
was gathering flowers in the fields. Yet Festus does not
ascribe the feast to Proserpine j but says it was thus cal¬
led by reason ears of corn were carried on this day to
the temples.—Anthesphoria seems to be the same "thing
with the florisertuin of the Latins, and answers to the
harvest-home among us.
ANTHESTERIA, in antiquity, was a feast cele¬
brated by the Athenians in honour of Bacchus. The
most natural derivation of the word is from the Greek
(flos), a flower, it being the custom at this feast
to offer garlands of flowers to Bacchus.
The anthesteria lasted three days, the nth, I2th, and
13th of the month ; each of which had a name suited
to the proper office of the day. The first day of the
feast was called wiSnyt*, i. e. opening of the vessels, be¬
cause on this day they tapped the vessels, and tasted
the wine. The second day they called congn, the
name of a measure containing the weight of 10 pounds 3
ANT.
on this they drank the wine prepared the day before. Antheste-
The third day they called kettles : on this day ria
they boiled all sorts of pulse in kettles; which how- AnJj
ever they were not allowed to taste, as being offered to AY—J..'.
Mercury.
ANTHESTERION, in ancient chronology, the
sixth month of the Athenian year. It contained 29
days; and answered to the latter part of our November
and beginning of December. The Macedonians called
it dcesion or desion. It had its name from the festival
anthesteria kept in it.
ANTHISTIRIA. See Botany Index.
ANTHOCEROS, or Horn-flower. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ANTHOLOGION, the title of the service book
used in the Greek church. It is divided into 12 months,
containing the offices sung throughout the year, on the
festivals of our Saviour, the Virgin," and other remark¬
able saints.
ANTHOLOGY, a discourse of flowers, or of beau¬
tiful passages from any author’s.—It is also the name
given to a collection of epigrams taken from several
Greek poets.
ANTHOLYZA, Mad-flower. See Botany
Index.
ANTHONY, Saint, was born in Egypt in 251,
and inherited a large fortune, which he distributed
among his neighbours and the poor, retired into solitude,
founded a religious order, built many monasteries, and
died anno 356. Many ridiculous stories are told of his
conflicts with the devil, and of his miracles. I here
are seven epistles extant attributed to him.
St Anthony is sometimes represented with a fire by
his side, signifying that he relieves persons from the in¬
flammation called after his name 3 but always accompa¬
nied by a hog, on account of his having been a swine¬
herd, and curing all disorders in that animal, io do
him the greater honour, the Romanists in several places
keep at common charges a hog denominated St Anthony's
hog, for which they have great veneration. Some will
have St Anthony’s picture on the walls of their houses,
hoping by that to be preserved from the plague 3 and
the Italians, who do not know the true signification of
the fire painted at the side of their saint, concluding
that he preserves houses from being burnt, invoke him
on such occasions. Both painters and poets have made
very free with this saint and his followers : the former
by the many ludicrous pictures of his temptation 3 and
the latter, by divers epigrams on his disciples or friars :
one of which is the following, printed in Stephen’s
World of Wonders :
Once fedd’st thou, Anthony, an herd of swine,
And now an herd of monks thou feedest still.
For wit and gut alike both charges bin 3
Both loven filth alike 3 both like to fill
Their greedy paunch alike : nor was that kind
More beastly, sottish, swinish, than this last.
All else agrees : one fault I only find,
Thou feedest not thy monks with oaken mast.
Anthony, or Knights of St Anthony, a military
order, instituted by Albert duke of Bavaria, Holland,
and Zealand, when he designed to make war against
the Turks in 1382. The knights wore a collar of
gold: 1
[ 421 ]
ANT [ 422 ] ANT
Anthony gold made in form of a hermit’s girdle, from which
II hung a stick cut like a crutch, with a little bell, as they
Antbropo- ai.e represented in St Anthony’s pictures.
St Anthony also gives the denomination to an or-
LM11 v der of religious founded in France about the year iop5>
to take care of those afflicted with St Anthony’s fire ;
(see the next article).—It is said, that, in some places,
these monks assume to themselves a power of giving, as
well as removing, the tgms sacer, or erysipelas ; a power
which stands them in great stead for keeping the poor
people in subjection, and extorting alms. To avoid the
menaces of these monks, the country people present them
every year with a fat hog a piece. Some prelates en¬
deavoured to persuade Pope Paul III. to abolish the or¬
der qucestuarias istos sancti AntJmmi, qui decipiunt
rusticos et simplices, eosque innumeris superstitiombus
implicent, de medio toUendos esse. But they subsist,
notwithstanding, to this day, in several places.
St Anthony's Fire, a name properly given to the
erysipelas. Apparently it took this denomination, as
those afflicted with it made their peculiar application to
St Anthony of Padua for a cure. It is known, that an¬
ciently particular diseases had their peculiar saints :
thus, in the ophthalmia, persons had recourse to St Lu¬
cia j in the toothach, to St Apollonia j in the hydropho¬
bia, to St Hubert, &c.
ANTHORA, the trivial name of a species of aconi-
tum. See Aconitum, Botany Index.
ANTHORISMUS, in Rhetoric, denotes a contrary
description or definition of a thing from that given by
the adverse party.—Thus, if the plaintiff urge, that to
take any thing away from another without his know¬
ledge or consent, is a theft; this is called »gef, or defini¬
tion. If the defendant reply, that to take a thing away
from another without his knowledge or consent, provided
it be done with design to return it to him again, is not
theft ; this is an At6»^o-ptf.
ANTHOSPERMUM, the Amber Tree. See
Botany Index.
ANTHOXANTHUM, or Vernal Grass. See
Botany Index.
ANTHRACIS, Anthracias, or Anthracitis,
names promiscuously used by ancient naturalists for
very different fossils, viz. the carbuncle, haematites, and
a kind of asteria. See Carbuncle, &c.
ANTHRACOCIS, in Medicine, a corrosive scaly
ulcer either in the bulb of the eye or the eyelids.
ANTHRAX, a Greek term, literally signifying a
burning coal, used by the ancients to denote a gem, as
well as a disease, more generally known by the name
of carbuncle.
Anthrax is sometimes also used for lithanthrax or
pit coal.
ANTHROPOGLOTTUS, among zoologists, an
appellation given to such animals as have tongues re¬
sembling that of mankind, particularly to the parrot
kind.
ANTHROPOGRAPHY, denotes the description
of the human body, its parts, structure, &c. See Ana¬
tomy.
ANTHRQPOLATRiE, in church history, an ap¬
pellation given to the Nestorians, on account of their
worshipping Christ, notwithstanding that they believed
him to be a mere man.
ANTHROPOLATRIA, the paying divine honours
3
to a man 5 supposed to be the most ancient kind of ido- Anthro^
latry. latria,
ANTHROPOLITES, a term denoting petrifac- Anthrojx
tions of the human body, as those of quadrupeds are,
called %oolites.
It has been doubted whether any real human petri¬
factions ever occur, and whether those which have
been supposed such were not mere lusus natures. But
the generality of naturalists best Versed in this branch
assure us of real anthropolites being sometimes found.
And indeed, as it is universally admitted that the zeo¬
lites ate frequently seen, what negative argument there¬
fore can be brought against the existence of the others?
Are not the component parts of the human body near¬
ly similar to those of the brute creation ? Consequently,
correspondent matter may be subject to, and acquire,
the like accidental changes, wherever the same power
or causes concur to act upon either object. If the for¬
mer are not so common, it may be accounted for, in
some measure, by reflecting that human bodies are ge¬
nerally deposited in select and appropriate places $
whereas the bones of animals are deposited everywhere,
and falling into various beds of earth, at a greater or
less depth, there is more probability of their encoun¬
tering the petrifying agent. Could we credit some
authors who have treated on this subject, they will tell
us of entire bodies and skeletons that were found pe¬
trified. One in particular, discovered at Aix in Pro¬
vence, anno 1583, in a rocky cliff, the cerebrum where¬
of, when struck against a piece of steel, produced
sparks, the bones being at the same time friable. The
reports of Happel and Kircher are too absurd for be¬
lief. Van Helmont’s strange relations, together with
those of Jean A Costa, must also be rejected as fabu¬
lous. Scheuhzer has published an engraved figure,
which he calls the Antediluvian man : how far it is au¬
thentic, it would be rash to say. It is, however, as¬
serted by many respectable writers on natural history,
that whole skeletons petrified have been brought to
light from certain old mines, which remained closed
up and disused for several centuries. These indeed are
acknowledged to be very rare. Yet it is a known
fact, that detached parts (psteolithi) are sometimes
found, especially in situations where either the water,
the soil, or both, have been observed to possess a strong
petrescent quality. The human vertebrae, fragments
or portions of the tibia, and even the whole cranium
itself, have been seen in an absolute state of petrifac¬
tion. Some of these are said to appear vitriolated or
mineralized. As to the petrified bones of pretended
giants, they are more probably real zeolites, the bones
of the larger animals. All these bones are found in
various states, and under different appearances. Some
are only indurated j others calcined, vitriolated, or mi¬
neralized } some, again, are simply incrusted ; whilst
others have been proved completely petrified. Not¬
withstanding what is here advanced, it may be granted
that a positive lusus naturae, in some hands, is repeat¬
edly mistaken for a real petrifaction. They are, how¬
ever, distinguishable at all times by an experienced na¬
turalist ; particularly by the two following rules : First,
We may determine that fossil a lusus natures, which, on
a strict examination, is observed to deviate in any ma¬
terial degree from the true res analogica existens. Se¬
condly, By the same parity of reasoning, these fossil
shells
Anthropo
lites
ANT [42
shells are to be esteemed certain petrifications, and ge¬
nuine Antediluvian reliquice, in which, on a compari-
11 son with their analogues, collected from the sea, there
Anthropo- appears an exact conformity in size and figure. This
phagr. , jjQjjjpaj-atiyg observation will hold good for all fossils j
that is, such as present themselves either under the
animal or vegetable form. It is nevertheless worthy
of notice, that all testaceous fossils are not petrified ;
since some kinds of them have been found in beds of
sand, which retained their original perfect shape and
quality, but at the same time they proved very brittle,
indeed scarcely bearing the most gentle touch. Shells
of this description are always dissoluble by acids, in
contradistinction to the petrified or calcareous fossil
shells, whose property it is to resist the action of such
like menstrua. See further the article Petrifac¬
tion.
ANTHROPOLOGY, a discourse upon human na¬
ture.
Anthropology, among divines, denotes that man¬
ner of expression, by which the inspired writers attri¬
bute human parts and passions to God.
ANTHROPOMANCY, a species of divination,
performed by inspecting the entrails of a human crea¬
ture.
ANTHROPOMORPHA, a term formerly given
to the primates of that class of animals which have the
greatest resemblance to the human kind.
ANTHROPOMORPHISM, among ecclesiastical
writers, denotes the heresy or error of the Anthropo-
morphites. See the next article.
ANTHROPOMORPHITES, in Church History,
a sect of ancient heretics, who, taking every thing
spoken of God in Scripture in a literal sense, particu¬
larly that passage of Genesis in which it is said, God
made man after his own image, maintained that God
had a human shape. They are likewise called Audeans,
from Audeus their leader.
ANTHROPOMORPHOUS, something that bears
the figure or resemblance of a man. Naturalists give
instances of anthropomorphous plants, anthropomorphous
minerals, &c. These generally come under the class of
what they call lusus naturce, or monsters.
ANTHROPOPATHY, a figure or expression by
which some passion is ascribed to God, which properly
belongs only to man.
ANTHROPOPHAGI, (of a man, and
0«ya>, to eat, Men-EATERS). That there have been,
in almost all ages of the world, nations who have fol¬
lowed this barbarous practice, we have abundance of
testimonies.
The Cyclops, the Lestrygons, and Scylla, are all re¬
presented in Homer, as Anthropophagi, or man-eaters j
and the female phantoms, Circe, and the Sirens, first
bewitched with a show of pleasure, and then destroyed.
This, like the other parts of Homer’s poetry, had a
foundation in the manners of the times preceding his
own. It was still, in many places, the age spoken ol
by Orpheus.
When men devour’d each other like the beasts,
Gorging on human flesh.——
According to Herodotus, among the Essedonian
Scythians, when a man’s father died, the neighbours
brought several beasts, which they killed, mixed up
3 ] ANT
their flesh with that of the deceased, and made a feast. Anthropo-
Among the Massagetae when any person grew old, phagi.
they killed him and ate his flesh j but it he died ol sick- "" v ^
ness, they buried him, esteeming him unhappy. The
same author also assures us, that several nations in the
Indies killed all their old people and their sick, to
feed on their flesh : he adds, that persons in health
were sometimes accused of being sick, to afford a pre¬
tence for devouring them. According to Sextus Em¬
piricus, the first laws that were made, were lor the
preventing of this barbarous practice, which the Greek
writers represent as universal before the time of Or¬
pheus.
Of the practice of anthropophagy in later times, we
have the testimonies of all the Romish missionaries who
have visited the internal parts of Africa, and even some
parts of Asia. Herrera speaks of great markets in China,
furnished wholly with human flesh, for the better sort
of people. Marcus Paulus speaks of the like in bis
time, in the kingdom of Concha towards Quinsay, and
the island of Zapengit j others, of the great Java j Bar¬
bosa, of the kingdom of Siam and island of Sumatra ;
others, of the islands in the gulf of Bengal, of the coun¬
try of the Samogitians, &c.
The philosophers Diogenes, Chrysippus, and Zeno,
followed by the whole sect of Stoics, affirmed, that
there was nothing unnatural in the eating of human
flesh ; and that it was very reasonable to use dead bo¬
dies for food, rather than to give them a prey to worms
and putrefaction. In order to make the trial, how¬
ever, whether there was any real repugnancy in nature
to the feeding of an animal with the flesh of its own
species, Leonardos Floroventius fed a hog with hog’s
flesh, and a dog with dog’s flesh j upon which he found
the bristles of the hog to fall off, and the dog to become
full of ulcers.
When America was discovered, this practice was
found to be almost universal, insomuch that several au¬
thors have supposed it to be occasioned through a want
of other food, or through the indolence of the people to
seek for it j though others ascribe its origin to a spirit
of revenge.
It appears pretty certain from Dr Hawkesworth’s ac¬
count of the Voyages to the South seas, that the inha¬
bitants of the island of New Zealand, a country unfur¬
nished with the necessaries of life, eat the bodies of
their enemies. It appears also to be very probable, that
both the wars and anthropophagy of these savages, take
their rise and owe their continuance to irresistible ne¬
cessity, and the dreadful alternative of destroying each
other by violence, or of perishing by hunger. See vol.
iii. p. 447. et seq. and vol. ii. p. 389, &c.
Mr Marsden also informs us, that this horrible cu¬
stom is practised by the Battas, a people in the island
of Sumatra. “ They do not eat human flesh (says he)
as a means of satisfying the cravings of nature, owing
to a deficiency of other food $ nor is it sought after
as a gluttonous delicacy, as it would seem among the
New Zealanders. The Battas eat it as a species of
ceremony j as a mode of showing their detestation of
crimes, by an ignominious punishment j and as a hor¬
rid indication of revenge and insult to their unfortu¬
nate enemies. The objects of this barbarous repast are
the prisoners taken in war, and offenders convicted
and condemned for capital crimes. Persons of the
former ,
[
ANT
Anlluopo- former description may be ransomed or exchanged, for
pbagi, which they often wait a considerable time } and the lat-
Antlnopo- ter suft'er’only when their friends cannot redeem them
1 customary fine of twenty beenchangs, or eighty
dollars. These' are tried by the people of the tribe
where the fact was committed, but cannot be execu¬
ted till their own particular raja or chief has been ac¬
quainted with the sentence; who, when he acknow¬
ledges the justice of the intended punishment, sends a
cloth to cover the delinquent’s head, together with a
large dish of salt and lemons. 1 he unhappy object,
whether prisoner of war or malefactor, is then tied to
a stake: the people assembled throw their lances at
him from a certain distance ; and when mortally wound¬
ed, they run up to him, as if in a transport of passion *,
cut pieces from the body with their knives j dip them
in the dish of salt and lemon juice ; slightly broil them
over a fire prepared for the purpose ; and swallow the
morsels with a degree of savage enthusiasm. home-
times (I presume according to the degree of their
animosity and resentment) the whole is devoured j and
instances have been known, where, with barbarity still
aggravated, they tear the flesh from the carcass with
their mouths. To such a depth of depravity may man
be plunged, when neither religion nor philosophy en¬
lighten his steps ! All that can be said in extenuation
of the horror of this diabolical ceremony is, that no
view appears to be entertained of torturing the suf¬
ferers } of increasing or lengthening out the pangs of
death : the whole fury is directed against the corpse,
warm indeed with the remains of life, but past the sen¬
sation of pain. I have found a difference of opinion
in regard to their eating the bodies of their enemies
slain in battle. Some persons long resident thei-e, and
acquainted with their proceedings, assert that it is not
customary ; but as one or two particular instances have
been given by other people, it is just to conclude, that
it sometimes takes place, though not generally. It was
supposed to be with this intent, that Raja Neabin main¬
tained a long conflict for the body of Mr Nairne, a most
respectable gentleman and valuable servant of the India
Company, who fell in an attack upon the campong of
that chief, in the year 1775.”
It may be said, that whether the dead body of an
enemy be eaten or buried, is a matter perfectly indif¬
ferent. But whatever the practice of eating human
flesh may be in itself, it certainly is relatively, and in
its consequences, most pernicious. It manifestly tends
to eradicate a principle, which is the chief security of
human life, and more frequently restrains the hand of
the murderer, than the sense of duty or the dread of
punishment. Even if this horrid practice originates
from hunger, still it must be perpetuated from revenge.
Death must lose much of its horror among those who
are accustomed to eat the dead 5 and where there is little
horror at the sight of death, there must be less repug¬
nance to murder. See some further observations on this
subject, equally just and ingenious, by Dr Hawkesworth,
ut supra.
ANTHROPOPHAGIA, the act or habit of eat¬
ing human flesh. This is pretended by some to be the
effect of a disease, which leads people affected with it
to eat every thing alike. Some choose only to con¬
sider it as a species of Pica. The annals of Milan fur¬
nish an extraordinary instance of anthropophagy. A
424 ] ANT
Milanese woman named Elizabeth, from a depraved Antlirops;
appetite, like what women with child, and those whose phagia
menses are obstructed, frequently experience, had an ,11
invincible inclination to human flesh, of which she ,AlltlcJiri'
made provision by enticing children into her house,
where she killed and salted them : a discovery of which
having been made, she was broken on the wheel and
burnt in 1519.
ANTHROPOSCOPIA, from and gkotsiu,
I consider, the art of judging or discovering a man’s
character, disposition, passions, and inclinations, from
the lineaments of his body. In which sense, anthro-
poscopia seems of somewhat greater extent than phy¬
siognomy or metoposcopy. Otto has published an An-
throposcopia, sive judicium honiinis de homine ex linea-
ANTHROPOTHYSIA, the inhuman practice of
offering human sacrifices. See Sacrifice.
ANTHUS, in Ornithology, a synonyme of a species
of loxia. See Loxia, Ornithology Index.
ANTHYLLIS, Kidney-vetch. See Botany
Index.
ANTHYPOPHORA, in Rhetoric, a figure of
speech \ being the counterpart of an hypophora. See
Hyfophora.
ANTI, a Greek preposition, which enters into the '
composition of several words, both Latin, French, and
English, in different senses. Sometimes it signifies be¬
fore, as an antichamber 5 and sometimes opposite or con¬
trary, as in the names of these medicines, anti-scorbu¬
tic, anti-venereal.
Anti, in matters of literature, is a title given to
divers pieces written by way of answer to others, whose
names are usually annexed to the anti. See the Anti
of M, Baillet j and the Anti-Baillet of M. Menage :
there ai’e also Anti-Menagiani, &c. Caesar the dicta¬
tor wrote two books by way of answer to what had
been objected to him by Cato, which he called Anti-
Caiones; these are mentioned by Juvenal, Cicero, &c.
Vives assures us, he had seen Caesar’s Anti-Catones in
an ancient library.
ANTIBACCHIUS, in ancient poetry, a foot con¬
sisting of three syllables, the two first long, and the last
one short; such is the word ambire.
ANTIBES, a sea port town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Var, with a strong castle. Its territory pro¬
duces excellent fruit j and the town stands opposite to
Nice, in the Mediterranean. E. Long. 7. 9. N. Lat.
43. 42.
ANTICHAMBER, an outer chamber for strangers
to wait in, till the person to be spoken with is at leisure.
ANTICHORUS, in Botany. See Botany Index.
ANTICHRIST, among ecclesiastical writers, de¬
notes a great adversary of Christianity, who is to appear
upon the earth towards the end of the world.
We have demonstrations, disputations, and proofs, in
great order and number, both that the pope is, and that
he is not, Antichrist.
F. Calmet is very large in describing the father and
mother of Antichrist, his tribe and pedigree, his wars
and conquests, his achievements against Gog, Magog,
&c.
Some place his capital at Constantinople, others at
Jerusalem, others at Moscow, and some few at London j
but the generality at Rome, though these last are di¬
vided
ANT C 425 ] ANT
Aitichrixt. vicM. Grotius and some others suppose Rome Pagan
to have been the seat of Antichrist: most of the Luthe¬
ran and reformed doctors contend earnestly for Rome
Christian under the papal hierarchy. In fact, the point
having been maturely debated at the council of Gap,
held in 1603, a resolution was taken thereupon, to in¬
sert an article in the Confession of Faith, whereby the
pope is formally declared to be Antichrist.—Pope Cle¬
ment VIII. was stung to the quick with this decision j
and even King Henry IV. of France was not a little
mortified, to be thus declared, as he said, an imp of An¬
tichrist.
M. le Clerc holds, that the rebel Jews and their
leader Simon, whose history is given by Josephus, are
to be reputed as the true Antichrist. Lightfoot and
Vanderhart rather apply this character to the Jewish
Sanhedrim. Hippolitus and others held that the devil
himself was the true Antichrist; that he was to he in¬
carnate, and make his appearance in human shape be¬
fore the consummation of all things. Others among
the ancients held that Antichrist was to be born of a
virgin by some prolific power imparted to her by the
* Bayle’s devil. A modern writer * of the female sex, whom
Dictionary,many hold for a saint, has improved on this sentiment;
rign'm°1,~ maintaining that Antichrist is to be begotten by the
devil on the body of a witch by means of the semen of
a man caught in the commission of a certain crime, and
conveyed, &c.
Hunnius and some others, to secure Antichrist to
the pope (notwithstanding that this latter seemed
excluded by not being of the tribe of Dan), have
broke in upon the unity of Antichrist, and assert
that there is to be both an eastern and a western An¬
tichrist.
Father Malvenda, a Jesuit, hath published a large
work entitled Antichristo, in which this subject is amply
discussed. It consists of thirteen books. In the first
he relates all the opinions of the fathers with regard
to Antichrist. In the second, he speaks of the times
when he shall appear ; and shows, that all the fathers
who supposed Antichrist to be near at hand, judged the
world was near its period. In the third, he discourses
of his origin and nation ; and shows that he is to be a
Jew of the tribe of Dan : this he founds on the autho¬
rity of the fathers ; on the passage in Genesis xlix. 17.
Dan shall he a serpent by the way, &c.; on that of Je¬
remiah viii. 16. where it is said, The armies of Dan
shall devour, the earth; and on Rev. vii. where St John,
enumerating all the tribes of Israel, makes no mention
of that of Dan. In the fourth and fifth books he treats
of the signs of Antichrist. In the sixth, of his reign
and wars. In the seventh, of his vices. In the eighth,
of his doctrine and miracles. In the ninth, of his per-
•ecutions : and in the rest, of the coming of Enoch and
Elias, the conversion of the Jews, the reign of Jesus
Christ, and the death of Antichrist, after he has reign¬
ed three years and a half. See also Lowman on the
Revelation.
How endless are conjectures ! Some of the Jews, we
are told, actually took Cromwell for the Christ; while
some others have laboured to prove him Antichrist
himself. Pfaffius assures us he saw a folio book in the
Bodleian library, written on purpose to demonstrate this
latter position.
Upon the whole, the Antichrist mentioned by the
Vol. IL Part II. t
apostle John, I Ep. ii. 18. and more particularly de- Antichrist
scribed in the book of Revelation, seems evidently to be U
the same with the Man of Sin, &c. characterized by St A,ltieyra»
Paul in his Second Epistle to the Thessalonians, ch. ii. v " "J
And the entire description literally applies to the exces¬
ses of papal power. Had the right of private judgment,
says an excellent writer, been always adopted and main¬
tained, Antichrist could never have been ; and when
that sacred right comes to be universally asserted, and
men follow the voice of their own reason and consciences,
Antichrist can be no more.
AN1ICHRISTIANISM, a state or quality in per¬
sons or principles, which denominates them antichri-
stian, or opposite to the kingdom of Christ.
M. Jurieu takes the idea of the unity of the church
to have been the source of Antichristianism. Had not
mankind been infatuated with this, they would never
have stood in such awe of the anathemas of Rome. It
is on this the popes erected their monarchical power.
ANTICHRISTIANS, properly denote the followers
or worshippers of Antichrist.
Antichristians are more particularly understood
of those who set up or believe a false Christ or Mes¬
siah.
ANTICHTHONES, in Ancient Geography, an
appellation given to the inhabitants of opposite hemi¬
spheres.
ANTICOR, or Anticoeur, among Farriers, an in¬
flammation in a horse’s throat, being the same with the
quinsy in mankind. See Farriery.
AI^TICOSTE, a barren island lying in the mouth
of the river St Lawrence, in North America. W,
Long. 64. 16. N. Lat. 49. 40.
ANTICYRA, in Ancient Geography, a town in
Phocis, on the Corinthian bay, opposite to Cirrha, ly¬
ing to the west on the same bay. The Phoceans seiz¬
ing the temple of Apollo at Delphi, a war, called the
sacred, commenced, and lasted ten years; when Phi¬
lip, father of Alexander the Great, avenged the god
by destroying many of the cities of the pillagers. Am.
ticyra was one of the number. It was again taken
and subverted by Attilius a Roman general in the war
with the Macedonians. It afterwards became famous
for its hellebore. That drug was the root of a plant,
the chief produce of the rocky mountains above the
city, and of two kinds, the black, which had a pur¬
gative quality, and the white, which was an emetic.
Sick persons resorted to Anticyra to take the medicine,
which was prepared there by a peculiar and very ex¬
cellent recipe : Hence the adage, Navigct Anticyram,
(Horace). By the port in the second century was a
temple of Neptune, not large, built with selected stones,
and the inside white-washed : the statue of brass. The
agora or market-place was adorned with images of the
same metal; and above it was a well with a spring,
sheltered from the sun by a roof supported by columns.
A little higher was a monument formed with such
stones as occurred, and designed, it was said, for the
sons of Iphitus. One of these, Schedius, was killed by
Hector, while fighting for the body of Patroclus, but
his bones were transported to Anticyra ; where his
brother died after his return from Troy. About two
stadia or a quarter of a mile distant was a high rockt
a portion of the mountain, on which a temple ol Diana
Stood ; the image bigger than a large woman, and made
3 H by
ANT [ 426 ] ANT
Anticyra by Praxiteles. The walls and other edifices at Anti-
!1 cyra were probably erected, like the temple of Nep-
Antigonea. tune) stones or pebbles. The site is now called
jtfsprospitia, or '£he White Houses ; and some traces of
the buildings from which it was so named remain. The
port is landlocked, and frequented by vessels for corn.
Some paces up from the sea is a fountain.
ANTIDESMA, Chinese Laurel. See Botany
Index.
ANTIDICOMARIANITES, ancient heretics who
pretended that the Holy Virgin did not preserve a per¬
petual virginity, but that she had several children by
Joseph after our Saviour’s birth. Their opinion was
grounded on some expressions of our Saviour, wherein
he mentions his brothers and his sisters ; and of St
Matthew, where he says, that Joseph knew not Mary
till she had brought forth her first-born son. The An-
tidicomarianites were the disciples of Helvidius and Jo-
vinian, who appeared in Rome toward the close of the
fourth century.
ANTIDORON, in Ecclesiastical Writers, a name
given by the Greeks to the consecrated bread, out of
which the middle part, marked with the cross, where¬
in the consecration resides, being taken away by the
priest, the remainder is distributed after mass to the
poor. On the sides of the antidoron are impressed the
words Jesus Christus vicit. The word is formed from
donum, “ a gift,” as being given away loco mu-
neris, or in charity. The antidoron is also called pa¬
nts pr&sanctijicatus. Some supposed the antidoron to
be distributed in lieu of the sacrament, to such as were
prevented from attending in person at the celebration j
and thence derive the origin of the word, the eucharist
being denominated doron, “ gift,” by way of eminence.
ANTIHOSIS, in antiquity, denotes an exchange
df estates, practised by the Greeks on certain occa¬
sions with peculiar ceremonies, and first instituted by
Solon.
When a person was nominated to an office, the ex¬
pence of which he was not able to supporj, he had re¬
course to the antidosis: that is, he was to seek some
other citizen of better substance than himself, who was
free from this, and other offices j in which case the for¬
mer was excused. In case the person thus substituted
denied himself to be the richest, they were to exchange
estates, after this manner*, the doors of their houses
were close shut up and sealed, that nothing might be
conveyed away : then both took an oath to make a
faithlul discovery of all their effects, except what lay
in the silver mines, which by the laws was excused
from all imposts: accordingly, within three days, a full
discovery and exchange of estates was made.
ANTIDOTE, among physicians, a remedy taken to
prevent, or to cure, the effects of poison, &c.
ANTIENT. See Ancient.
ANTIGONEA, or Antigonia, in Ancient Geo¬
graphy, a town of Bithynia, so called from Antigonus
the son of Philip, and afterwards caWed Niccea (Strabo!
Stephanus). Another of Epirus, to the north of the
Montes Ceraunii, opposite to the city of Oricum (Po¬
lybius, Ptolemy). A third of Arcadia, namely Man-
tinea, so called in honour of King Antigonus, (Plu¬
tarch, Pausanias). A fourth in Macedonia, in the
territory of Mygdonia (Pliny, Ptolemy). A fifth in
the territory of Chalcidice, in Macedonia, on the east
3
side of the Sinus Thermaicus (Livy). A sixth of Antigonea
Syria, built by Antigonus, not far from Antioch, on Antigxinai
the Orontes (Stephanus) $ but soon after destroyed by '—-’v—
Seleucus, who removed the inhabitants to Seleucia, a
town built by him (Diodorus Siculus). A seventh of
Troas, called Alexandria in Pliny’s time.
ANTIGONUS I. one of the captains of Alexander
the Great, was the son of Philip a Macedonian noble¬
man. After Alexander’s death, a division of the pro¬
vinces taking place, Pamphylia, Lycia, and Phrygia
Major fell to his share. But Perdiccas, well ac¬
quainted with his ambitious spirit and great abili¬
ties, determined to divest him of his government,
and laid plans for his life, by bringing various accu¬
sations against him. Antigonus, aware of the danger,
retired with his son Demetrius into Greece, where
he obtained the favour and protection of Antipater j
and in a short time Perdiccas dying, a new division ta¬
king place, he was invested not only with the govern¬
ment of the former provinces, but also with that of Ly-
caonia. He was likewise entrusted with the command
of the Macedonian household troops, and upon Eume-
nes being declared a public enemy, he received orders
to prosecute the war against him with the utmost vi¬
gour. On the commencement of this war, Eumenes
suffered a total overthrow, and was obliged to retire
with only 600 brave followers to a castle situated on
an inaccessible rock, where he might rest in safety from
all the assaults of Antigonus. In the interval, his
friends assembling a new army for his relief, were rout¬
ed by Antigonus, who now began to exhibit the great
projects of his ambition. Polysperchon succeeding to
the tutorship of the young king of Macedon after An¬
tipater’s death, Antigonus resolved to set himself upas
lord of all Asia. On account of the great power of
Eumenes, he greatly desired to gain him over to his in¬
terest j but that faithful commander effecting his escape
from the fortress where he was closely blockaded, rais¬
ed an army, and was appointed the royal general in
Asia. The governors in Upper Asia co-operating with
him, he succeeded in several engagements against An¬
tigonus, but was at last delivered up to him through
treachery, and put to death. Upon this, the govern¬
ors of Upper Asia yielded to Antigonus. Those
whom he suspected, he either sacrificed to his resent¬
ment or displaced them from their offices. Then seiz¬
ing upon all the treasures at Susa, he directed his march
towards Babylon, of which city Seleucus was govern¬
or. Seleucus fled to Ptolemy, and entered into a
league with him, together with Lysimachus and Cas-
sander, with the intention of giving a check to the ex¬
orbitant power of Antigonus, who, notwithstanding
this, made a successful attempt upon the provinces of
Syria and Phenicia. Yet these provinces were soon af¬
ter recovered by Ptolemy, who defeated his son De¬
metrius, while he himself was employed in repelling
Cassander, who had made rapid progress in Lesser
Asia. They were again taken by Antigonus, and he
being flushed with his success, planned an expedition
against the Nabathsean Arabs, dwelling in the deserts
adjacent to Judea ; but on the first enterprise against
the town of Petra, his general Athenaeus, with almost
all his troops, was cut to pieces by the Arabs. An¬
tigonus then sent his son against them, who returned
after forcing them to reasonable terms, Demetrius
then
ANT [ 427 ] ANT
Antigonus. then expelled Seleucus from Babylon, and success at-
u—y——< tending bis arms wherever he went, the confederates
were obliged to make a treaty with Antigonus, in
which it was stipulated, that he should remain in pos¬
session of all Asia, but that the Greek cities should con¬
tinue in possession of their liberty. This agreement
was soon violated, under the pretence that garrisons
had been placed in some of these cities by Antigonus.
At first Ptolemy made a successful descent in Lesser
Asia and on several of the islands of the Archipelago}
but he was at length defeated by the successful arms
of Demetrius in a sea-fight, who also took the island of
Cyprus, with many prisoners. On this victory Anti¬
gonus was so elated that he assumed the title of king,
and bestowed the same upon his son ; and from that
time, B. C. 306, his reign in Asia,' and that of Ptole¬
my in Egypt, and of the other captains of Alexander
in their respective governments, properly commence.
Irritated at the hostile conduct of Ptolemy, Anti¬
gonus prepared a numerous army and a formidable
fleet, and having taken the command of the army, he
gave the command of the fleet to Demetrius, and hast¬
ened to attack him in his own dominions. After en¬
during the severest hardships, they met in the vicinity
of Mount Cassius $ but Ptolemy acted with such valour
and address that Demetrius could gain no advantage
over him j and after several fruitless attempts, he aban¬
doned the undertaking. He next attempted the re¬
duction of Rhodes, but meeting with obstinate resist¬
ance, he was obliged to make a treaty upon the best
terms that he could, having been called to join Anti¬
gonus agaiqst Cassander, who at this time had formed
a confederacy with Seleucus and Lysimachus. When
Demetrius united his forces with those of Antigonus,
they advanced to Phrygia, and having met the enemy
at Ipsus, a decisive battle was fought, in which Antigo¬
nus fell, in the 84th year of his age, B. C. 301.
Ardent in his passions, Antigonus frequently used
improper means for their gratification $ but as a soldier
he was sagacious, active, brave, and fortunate. An in¬
satiable ambition, however, the general passion of great
men, proved a strong stimulus to all his actions } but
with these blemishes better qualities were blended in his
character. The violence and temerity of youth were
tempered by the clemency and moderation of advanced
life, and he endeavoured to conciliate the affections of
those whom force had subjected to his power. In mat¬
ters of private concern he was strictly just; for when
his brother wished him to listen to a cause in private
where he was concerned, he exclaimed, “ No, my dear
brother, I will hear it in the open court of justice, be¬
cause I mean to do justice.” When flattered with the
title of god, he replied, “ My chamberlain well knows
the contrary $” and similar philosophical sentiments
would frequently drop from his lips. He apologized
for the rigour of his taxes by saying, “ Alexander
reaped Asia, but I only glean it.” He shone with
peculiar lustre in domestic retirement. Notwithstand¬
ing the strong ambition of his son Demetrius, he con¬
tinued in perfect harmony both with him and all his
family. The son had a full share of the authority of
the father; and one day saluting his son upon his return
from hunting in the presence of some ambassadors, he
desired them to tell their masters upon what terms he
lived with his son. (Gen. Biog.).
Antigonus Gonatus, son of Demetrius Poliorcetes, AntiKonns
was the grandson of the former Antigonus. His cha- |!
racter was eminently distinguished by humanity and Anlli>ua,
mildness of disposition. When he besieged Thebes " ^~~
under the command of his father, he strongly remon¬
strated against the loss of so many lives for such an in¬
significant object. Filial affection was so powerful in
his mind, that when his father was taken prisoner by
Seleucus, he generously offered himself in his stead, and
being rejected, he wore deep mourning, and refrained
from all festivals and amusements during his father’s
imprisonment. Informed of his death, all the floods
of sorrow burst from his tender heart, and sailing with
a fleet to meet his ashes, he received them with all the
demonstrations of filial sensibility and dutiful respect.
By the death of his father he became master of all the
European dominions of Demetrius, together with the
kingdom of Macedon and various other cities in
Greece. The Gauls invading his country, he defeat¬
ed and expelled them, but was soon after routed by
Pyrrhus king of Epirus. Some time after, however,
Pyrrhus was slain at Argos ; and when his head was
brought him by his son, he expressed the highest dis¬
pleasure, and throwing his robe over it, he gave orders
to search for his body, and to inter the same with all fu¬
neral honours. With singular kindness, also, he treated
Helenus, the son of that unfortunate king, who fell into
his hands by the fortune of war.
In the evening of his reign, he so cultivated the arts
of peace, and so conciliated the minds of his subjects,
that he secured their affections both to himself and his
descendants. The taking of the citadel of Corinth by
intrigue was the meanest action of his reign, but he im¬
proved that event in maintaining the freedom of the
small states of Greece, and in increasing his own domi¬
nions. The Achaeans, and Aratus their famous chief,
vigorously opposed his measures, and at length recovered
Corinth 5 but Antigonus was so inclined to peace, that
notwithstanding this event, he pursued his wonted plan,
and left his kingdom in peace about the 80th year of his
life, and the 44th of his reign, B. C. 243 5 and Deme¬
trius II. his son, next ascended the throne. (Gen.
Biog.).
ANTIGRAPHUS, in antiquity, an officer of A-
thens, who kept a counterpart of the apodecti, or chief
treasurer’s accounts, to prevent mistakes, and keep them
from being falsified.
Antigraphus is also used, in middle-age writers,
for a secretary or chancellor. He is thus called, ac¬
cording to the old glossarists, on account of his writing
answers to the letters sent to his master. The antigra-
phus is sometimes also called archigraphus; and his dig¬
nity antigraphia or archigraphia.
Antigraphus is also used in Isidorus for one of the
notes of sentences which is placed with a dot to denote
diversity of sense in the translations.
Antigraphus is also applied in ecclesiastical writ¬
ers to an abbreviator of the papal letters. In which
sense the word is used by Pope Gregory the Great in
his register. Of late days the office of antigraphus con¬
sists in making minutes of bulls from the petitions
agreed to by his holiness, and renewing the bulls after
engrossing.
ANTIGUA, one of the Antilles or Caribbee
islands, situated 20 leagues east of St Christopher’s, in
| H 2 W.
ANT
Antisifla
W. Long. 6l. 4j. and N. Lat. 17. 6. It is about 50
miles in circumference, and is reckoned the largest of
all the British leeward islands.
This island having no rivers, and but few springs, or
such as are brackish, the inhabitants are obliged to pre¬
serve the rain water in cisterns. The air here is not so
wholesome as in the neighbouring islands, and it is more
subject to hurricanes ; but it has excellent harbours,
particularly English Harbour, which is capable of re¬
ceiving the largest man of war in the navy. Here is
also a dock yard, supplied with all stores and conveni¬
ences for repairing and careening ships. The principal
trade, however, is carried on in the harbour of St
John’s, the capital, situated in the north-west part of
the island, and which has water sufficiently deep for
merchant vessels. The island contains 59,838 acres of
land, of which about 34,000 are appropriated to the
growth of sugar, including those which are annexed as
pasture grounds. The other staples are cotton, wool,
and tobacco.
This island was first attempted to be settled by Sir
Thomas Warner, about the same time with St Christo¬
pher’s and Nevis: but no establishment then took place.
It was afterwards granted by Charles II. to Lord Wil¬
loughby, then governor of Barbadoes, who settled a co¬
lony upon it in the space of a few years. In a short
time, but by what means is not evident, it became again
the public property. It raises at present about 16,000
hogsheads of sugar, which was at first of a very bad
quality, unfit for the English market j but the planters
have greatly improved their staple since, and it is now
as good as in any of the other islands. It has continued
unmolested in all the late wars with France. It is di¬
vided into five parishes, St John’s Town, Falmouth,
Porham, Bridge Town, and St Peter’s. According to
returns in 1817 the number of white inhabitants was
2102, exclusive of troops, of free people of colour
1747, of free blacks 438, and of slaves 31,4.52.. The
slaves had increased 1170 since 1807, when the slave
trade was abolished.
ANflGUGLER, is a crooked tube of metal, so
bent as easily to be introduced into the necks of bottles,
and used in decanting liquors, without disturbing them!
For this purpose the bottle should be a little inclined,*
and about half a spoonful of the liquor poured out, so as
to admit an equal quantity of air j let one end of the
bent tube be stopped with the finger, whilst the other
is thrust into the body of the liquor near to the bubble
of air already admitted. When the finger is taken off
the bottle will have vent, and the liquor will run out
steadily and undisturbed.
ANFIHECTICS, in Pharmacy, medicines good in
hectical disorders. 0
ANTIHECTICUM poTEnn, the name of a medi¬
cine formerly much celebrated, but now laid aside in
common practice.
-AN,^IL,IBANUS1> .in Ancient Geographyy a moun¬
tain ot Goelosyna, which bounds it on the south, run¬
ning parallel with Libanus: they both begin a little
above the sea, Libanus near Tripolis, Antilibanus at
bidon : and both terminate near the mountains of Ara-
01a, whidi run to the north of Damascus, and the moun¬
tains of Tracomtis, and there end in other mountains,
(o.rabo). The Scripture, making no distinction be¬
tween Libanus and Antilibanus, calls them by the com¬
mon name Lebanon, J
[ 428 ]
ANT
ABlilJer
ANTILLES, the French name for the Caribbek
islands.
AN IILOGARITHM, the complement of the loga- Antimeta.
rithm of a sine, tangent, or secant ; or the difference ©f. boIe‘
that logarithm from the logarithm of 90 degrees.
. ANTILOGY, in matters of literature, an incon¬
sistency between two or more passages of the sam*
book.
ANTILOPE. See Capra.
AN1IMENSIUM, a kind of consecrated table¬
cloth, occasionally used in the Greek church, in places
where there is no proper altar. F. Goar observes, that
in regard the Greeks had but few consecrated churches,-
and that consecrated altars are not things easy to be re¬
moved, that church has, for many ages, made use of
certain consecrated stuffs or linens, called antimensia^
to serve the purposes thereof.
Antimensium, in the Greek church, answers to th*
alt are port a bile ^ or portable altar in the Latin church.
They are both only of late invention, though Habertue
would have them as old as St Basil. But Durant and
Bona do not pretend to find them in any author befoy*
the time of Bede and Charlemagne.
Antimensia is also applied to other tables, used in of¬
fices of religion, besides those whereon the eucharist ia
administered : such, e. g. are those whereon the host ia
exposed, &c. The origin of the antimensia is describ¬
ed by Meursius: when the bishop had consecrated a
church, the cloth which had been spread on the ground
and over the communion table, was torn in pieces, and
distributed among the priests, who carried each a frag¬
ment away, to serve to cover the tables in their church¬
es and chapels. Not that it was necessary that such
cloths should be laid on all tables j but only on those
which either were not consecrated, or at least whose
consecration was doubted of.
ANTIMERIA, in Grammar, a figure whereby one
part of speech is used for another: e. g. velle suam cuL
que est, for voluntas sua cuique est ; also populus late
rex, for populus late regnans.
Antimeria, in a more restrained sense, is a figure
where the noun is repeated instead of the pronoun. The
antimeria is frequent in the Hebrew, and is sometimes
retained in our version of the Old Testament accord^
mgly : e. g. Hear my voice, ye wives of Lamech, for
my ivives, Gen. iv. 23.
ANTIMETABOLE, in Rhetoric, a figure which
sets tw’o things in opposition to each other. The word
is Greek, compounded of against, and
from pdcctxXXu, I shift or transfer, i. e. shifting, or
setting two things over-against each other. This figure
is twice exemplified in an apophthegm of Musonius ;
which, on account of its excellence, is called aureum
momtum, the golden maxim or precept.
A» r/ 5rga|.js piret vroyu, opit noyos oifctrxi, t» *«-
Ae» pint.
At r 1 weninjj uta-^ot pirx ^ov^, to pit oifttTxt, to Ji
au<j"fc(iot ptm.
In English thus :
“ Allowing the performance of an honourable action to
be attended with labour j the labour is soon over, bat
the honour immortal : whereas, should even pleasure
wait on the commission pf what is dishonourable, the
pleasure is soon gone, but the dishonour eternal.”
ANTIMETATHESIS,
ANT [ 429 ] ANT
Antimeta- ANTIMETATHESIS, in Rhetoric, is the inver-
thesis eion of the parts or members of an antithesis. Such
is that of Cicero in Verrem, lib. iv. cap. 52. “ Com-
Antunony. ^are t^j3 peace vvjtj1 t|iat war . t|ie arriVal of this go-
vernor with the victory of that general $ his profligate
troops with the invincible army of the other ; the lux¬
ury of the former with the temperance of the latter :
you will say, that Syracuse was founded by him who
took it-, and taken by him, who held it when founded.”
ANT1MONARGHICAL, an appellation given to
whatever opposes monarchical government.
ANTIMONIALS, in Medicine, preparations of
antimony. See Pharmacy.
ANTIMONY, a blackish mineral substance, stain¬
ing the hands, full of long, shining, needle-like striae,
hard, brittle, and considerably heavy. It is found in
diflerent parts of Europe, as Bohemia, Saxony, Transyl¬
vania, Hungary, France, and England ; commonly in
mines by itself, intermixed with earth and stony matters.
Sometimes it is blended with the richer ores of silver,
and renders the extraction of that metal difficult by
volatilizing a part of the silver, or, in the language of
the miners, robbing the ore. See Metallurgy, for
the different operations.
Antimony is the stibium of the ancients; by the
Greeks called The reason of its modern deno-
minationj antimony, is usually referred to Basil Valen¬
tine, a German monk; who, as the tradition relates,
having thrown some of it to the hogs, observed, that
after purging them violently, they immediately grew
fat upon it. This made him think, that by giving
his fellow monks a like dose, they would be the better
for it. The experiment, however, succeeded so ill,
that they all died of it: and the medicine thencefor¬
ward was called antimony, q. d. anti-monk,-
Uses. Antimony at first was of service only in the
composition of paint. Scripture describes it to us as
a sort of paint, with which the women blackened their
eyebrows. Jezebel, understanding that Jehu was to
cuter Samaria, painted her eyes with antimony; or,
according to the Hebrew, “ put her eyes in antimo¬
ny.” As large black eyes were thought the finest,
they of both sexes, who were careful of their beauty,
rubbed their eyes, eyelids, and round their eyes, with
a needle dipped in a box of paint made of antimony,
with a design of blackening them.—At this day, the
women of Syria, Arabia* and Babylonia, anoint and
blacken themselves about the eyes; and both men and
women put black upon their eyes in the desert, to
preserve them from the heat of the sun and the pier¬
cing of its rays. M. Darvieux tells us, that the Ara¬
bian women border their eyes with a black colour made
of tutty, which the Arabians call rebel. They draw a
line of this kind of blacking without the corner of their
eyes, to make them appear larger. Isaiah, in his enu¬
meration of the several ornaments belonging to the
daughters of Sion, has not forgot the needles which they
made use of in painting their eyes and eyelids. Nor
has this practice escaped the lash of Juvenal:
Ille supercilium madida fuligine tinctum
Obliqua producit acu, pir.gitque trementes
Attollens oculos.
Ezekiel, discovering the irregularities of the Jewish
nation under the idea of a debauched woman, says, Antimony,
that she bathed and perfumed herself, and that she *• — ■■ v--—<
anointed her eyes with antimony. Job shows suffi¬
ciently bow much antimony was in esteem, by calling
one of his daughters a vessel of antimony, or a box to
put paint in, cornu stibii. The author of the book of
Enoch says, that before the deluge the angel Azleel
taught young women the art of painting themselves.
Tertullian and St Cyprian have declaimed very
warmly against this custom of painting the eyes and
eyebrows, which was much practised in Africa even
by the men : Inunge ocvlos tuos non stibio diaboli, sed
collyrio Christi, says St Cyprian. Pliny, speaking of
the Roman ladies, says, that they painted their very
eyes : Tanta est decoris affectatio, ut tingantur oculi
quoque. Sardanapalus painted his eyes and eyebrows.
Josephus reproaches the seditious with the same, who
assumed the name of zealots, and made themselves
masters of the temple of Jerusalem.
The modern uses of antimony are very numerous
and important. It is a common ingredient in specula
or burning concaves, serving to give the composition
a finer texture. It makes a part in bell metal, and
renders the sound more clear. It is mingled with tin,
to make it more hard, white, and sounding j and with
lead, in the casting of printers letters, to render them
more smooth and firm. It is also a general help in
the melting of metals, and especially in casting of
cannon-balls. It is likewise made use of for purifying
and heightening the colour of gold. See Chemistry
Index.
For a long time this mineral was esteemed poisonous.
In 1566, its use was prohibited in France by an edict
of parliament *, and in 1609, one Besnier was expelled
the faculty for having given it. The edict was re¬
pealed in 1650 j antimony having a few years before
been received into the number of purgatives. In 1668,
a new edict came forth, forbidding its use by any but
doctors of the faculty. It is now universally allowed,
that pure antimony in its crude state has no noxious
quality, and that though many of its preparations are
most virulently emetic and cathartic, yet, by a slight
alteration or addition, they lose their virulence, and
become mild in their operation.
The virtues of antimony in the diseases of animal*
are greatly extolled. Pigs that have the measles arc
at all times recovered by it, which proves it a great
purifier of the blood. Horses who have running heels
that cannot be cured by the common methods used
by the farriers, will generally be cured by this medi¬
cine in a little time. The manner of using it is this :
Mix one drachm with every feeding of oats which the
horse has in a morning. It is best put together in one
place, buried under* a fewT oats j and the horse’s head
being withheld a little, and then let go just against
that place, he will take it all in at a mouthful. Some
horses do not dislike it: others obstinately refuse it,
but to these it may be easily given in balls. The vir¬
tues of this drug in fattening cattle have been thought
imaginary, but expeximent proves it to be a real truth.
A horse that is lean and scabby, and not to be fatted
by any other means, will become fat on taking a dose
of antimony every morning for two months together.
A boar fed for brawn, and having an ounce of anti¬
mony
ANT- [ 430 1 ANT
Antimony mony given him every morning, will become fat a fort-
11 night sooner than others put into the stye at the same
Antioch. ^mej anc| fed Jn the same manner, but without the anti¬
mony.
ANTINOE. See Enfine.
ANTINOEIA, in antiquity, annual sacrifices, and
quinquennial games, in memory of Antinous the Bithy-
nian. They were instituted at the command of Adrian,
the Roman emperor, at Mantinea, in Arcadia, where
Antinous was honoured with a temple and divine wor-
ship.
ANTINOMIANS, in ecclesiastical history, certain
heretics who maintain the law of no use or obligation
under the gospel-dispensation, or who hold doctrines that
clearly supersede the necessity of good works and a vir¬
tuous life. The Antinomians took their origin from John
Agricola about the year 1538 ; who taught that the law
is no w'ays necessary under the gospel $ that good works
do not promote our salvation, nor ill ones hinder it; that
repentance is not to be preached from the decalogue, but
only from the gospel.
This sect sprung up in England during the protec¬
torate of Oliver Cromwell, and extended their system
of libertinism much farther than Agricola the disciple
of Luther. Some of their teachers expressly maintain¬
ed, that as the elect cannot fall from grace, nor forfeit
the Divine favour, the wicked actions they commit
are not really sinful, nor are to be considered as instan¬
ces of their violation of the divine law; and that con¬
sequently they have no occasion either to confess their
sins, or to break them off by repentance. According
to them, it is one of the essential and distinctive cha¬
racters of the elect, that they cannot do any thing
which is either displeasing to God or prohibited by the
law.—Luther, Rutherford, Schlusselburg, Sedgwick,
Gataker, Witsius, Bull, Williams, &c. have written
refutations; Crisp, Richardson, Saltmarsh, &c. defen¬
ces, of the Antinomians ; Wigandus, a comparison be¬
tween ancient and modern Antinomians.
The doctrine of Agricola was in itself obscure, and
perhaps represented worse than it really was by Luther,
who wrote with acrimony against him, and first styled
him and his followers Antinomians. Agricola stood on
his own defence, and complained that opinions were
imputed to him which he did not hold. Nicholas Ams-
dorf fell under the same odious name and imputation,
and seems to have been treated more unfairly than even
Agricola himself. It is x-ather hard to charge upon a
man ail the opinions that may be inferred from things
that have hastily dropped from him, when he himself
disavows such inferences.
ANTINOUS, the favourite of Adrian, was born at
Bithynus in Bithynia. His beauty engaged the heart
©1 Adrian in such a manner, that there never was a more
boundless and extravagant passion than that of this em¬
peror towards this youth. After his death, the emperor
ordered divine honours to be paid him ; and he also
erected a city of his name. See Enfine.
ANTIOCH, a city of Syria, in Asia, situated on
the river Orontes, in E. Long. 36. 5. N. Lat. 36. 10.
It was built by Seleucus Nicator, founder of the Syro-
Macedonian empire, who made it his capital. It stood
on the above-mentioned river, about 2C miles from the
place where it empties itself into the Mediterranean ;
being equally distant from Constantinople and Alex¬
andria in Egypt, that is, about 700 miles from each. Antiocli
Seleucus called it Antioch, from his father’s name, ac--y-—.
cording to some ; or from that of his son, according to
others. He built 16 other cities bearing the same
name; of which one, situated in Pisidia, is probably that
where the name of Christians was first given to the fol¬
lowers of Jesus Christ. But that situated on the Orontes
by far eclipsed, not only all the others of this name, but
all the cities built by Seleucus. Antigonus, not long
before, had founded a city in that neighbourhood, which
from his own name he had called Antigonia, and de¬
signed it for the capital of his empire : but it was razed
to the ground by Seleucus, who employed the materials
in building his metropolis, and also transplanted the
inhabitants thither.
The city of Antioch was afterwards known by the
name of Tetrapolis, being divided as it were into four
cities, each of them being sm-rounded with its proper
wall, besides a common one which enclosed them all.
The first of these cities was built by Seleucus Nicator,
as already mentioned ; the second by those who flock¬
ed thither on its being made the capital of the Syro-
Macedonian empire ; the third by Seleucus Callinicus ;
and the fourth by Antiochus Epiphanes.—-About four
or five miles distant, stood a place called Daphne, which
was nevertheless reckoned a suburb of Antioeh. Here
Seleucus planted a grove, and in the middle of it built
a temple which he consecrated to Apollo and Diana,
making the whole an asylum. To this place the inha¬
bitants of Antioch resorted for their pleasures and di¬
versions ; whereby it became at last so infamous, that
“ to live after the manner of Daphne” was used as a
proverb to express the most voluptuous and dissolute
way of living. Here Lucius Verus, the colleague of
M. Aurelius, chose to take up his residence, instead of
marching against the Parthians; while his general
Cassius forbade by proclamation any of his soldiers to
enter or even go near the place. In short, so remarkable
was Daphne of old, that the metropolis itself was distin¬
guished by it, and called Antioch near Daphne.
Though Antioch continued to be, as Pliny calls it,
the queen of the East, for near 1600 years; yet scarce
any city mentioned in history hath undergone such ca¬
lamities, both from the attacks of its enemies, and its
being naturally subject to earthquakes. The first
disaster mentioned in history which befel the Antio-
chians happened about 145 years before Christ. Being
at that time very much disaffected to the person and
government of Demetrius their king, they were conti¬
nually raising tumults and seditions ; insomuch that he
found himself at last obliced to solicit assistance from
the Jews ; and was furnished by Jonathan, one of the
Maccabees, with 3000 men ; by which reinforcement,
believing himself sufficiently strong to reduce the mu¬
tineers by force, he ordered them immediately to de¬
liver up their arms. This unexpected oi’der caused
a great uproar in the city. The inhabitants ran to
arms, and invested the king’s palace, to the number
of 120,000, with a design to put him to death. All
the Jews hastened to his relief, fell upon the rebels,
killed 100,000 of them, and set fire to the city. On
the destruction of the Syrian empire by the Romans,
Antioch submitted to them as well as the other cities
of that kingdom, and continued for a long time under
their dominion. About the year 115, in the reign of
the
ANT [ 43' ] ANT
^lioch. the emperor Trajan, it was almost entirely ruined by one
-•Y—of the most dreadful earthquakes mentioned in history.
Trajan himself happened to be there at that time, being
returned from an expedition against the Parthians; so
that the city was then full of troops, and strangers come
from all quarters either out of curiosity or upon busi¬
ness and embassies : the calamity was by this means felt
almost in every province of the Roman empire. 1 he
earthquake was preceded by violent claps ot thunder,
unusual winds, and a dreadful noise under ground. Ihe
shock was so terrible, that great numbers of houses were
overturned, and others tossed to and fro like a ship at
sea. Those who happened to be in their houses were
for the most part buried under their ruins : those who
were walking in the streets or in the squares, were, by
the violence of the shock, dashed against each other,
and most of them either killed or dangerously wounded.
This earthquake continued, with some small intermis¬
sion, for many days and nights ; so that vast numbers
perished. The most violent shock, according to the
Acts of St Ignatius, was on a Sunday, December 23.
Ry this Trajan was much hurt, but escaped through a
window. Dion Cassius pretends, that he was taken out
of the window by one who exceeded the human size in
tallness. The same historian adds, that Mount Lison,
which stood at a small distance from the city, bowed
its head and threatened to fall down upon it : that
other mountains fell; that new rivers appeared, and
others that had flowed before forsook their course and
vanished. When the earthquake ceased, a woman was
heard crying under the ruins ; which being immediate¬
ly removed, she was found with a living child in her
arms. Search was made for others j but none was found
alive, except one child which continued sucking its dead
mother.
No doubt, Trajan, who was an eye-witness of this
terrible calamity, would contribute largely towards the
re-establishment of Antioch in its ancient splendour.
Its good fortune, however, did not continue long *, for
in 155, it was almost entirely burnt by accidental fire j
when it was again restored by Antoninus Pius. In 176
or 177, the inhabitants having sided with Cassius, the
above-mentioned Roman general, who had revolted from
M. Aurelius, that emperor published a severe edict
against them, deprived them of all their privileges, sup¬
pressed their public assemblies, and took from them the
shows and spectacles to which they were greatly addict¬
ed : but his anger being soon appeased, he restored them
to their former condition, and even condescended to vi¬
sit their city. In 194, having sided with Niger against
Severus, the latter deprived them of all their privileges,
and subjected Antioch as a mere village to Laodicea 5
but, however, pardoned them the next year, at the en¬
treaties of his eldest son, then a child.
When the power of the Roman empire began to de¬
cline, Antioch became the bone of contention between
them and the eastern nations *, and, accordingly, on the
breaking out of a Persian war, it was almost always
sure to suffer. In 242, it was taken and plundered by
Sapor ; and, though he was defeated by Gordian, it
underwent the same misfortune in the time of ^ alerian,
about 18 years after ; and after the defeat and capti¬
vity of Valerian, being taken by the Persian monarch
a third time, he not only plundered it, but levelled
all the public buildings with the ground. The Per¬
sians, however, being soon driven out, this unfortunate Antioch,
city continued free from any remarkable calamity till —-y——'
about the time of the division of the Roman empire by
Constantine in 331. It was then afflicted with so grie¬
vous a famine, that a bushel of wheat was sold for 4C0
pieces of silver. During this grievous distress, Con¬
stantine sent to the bishop 30,000 bushels of corn ; be¬
sides an incredible quantity of all kinds of provisions,
to be distributed among the ecclesiastics, widows, or¬
phans, &c. In the year 347* Constantine II. caused
a harbour to be made at Seleucia, for the conveni-
ency of Antioch. This was effected at an immense
expence j the mouth of the Orontes, where the port
was made, being full of sands and rocks. W hen the
emperor Julian set out on his expedition against the
Persians, he made a long stay at Antioch j during
which time, many of the Roman provinces were af¬
flicted with a famine, but which raged more violently
at Antioch than in other places. The ecclesiastical
writers of those times say, that this famine followed
Julian from place to place ; and as he continued long¬
er at Antioch than any other city, it raged more vio¬
lently there than anywhere else. To remedy this evil,
Julian fixed the price of corn : by which means the
famine was greatly increased, the merchants convey¬
ing their corn privately to other places, so that this
metropolis was reduced to a most deplorable situation.
In 381, in the reign of Theodosius the Great, Antioch
was again visited by a famine, accompanied by a grie¬
vous plague. The latter soon ceased : but, the fa¬
mine still continuing, the bishop, Libanius, applied to
Icarius, count of the East, requesting him by some
means or other to relieve the poor, who had flocked
from all parts to the metropolis, and were daily perish¬
ing in great numbers $ but to this Icarius gave no
other answer, than that they were abhorred and justly
punished by the gods. This inhuman answer raised
great disturbances j which, however, were terminated
without bloodshed. In 387, Theodosius, finding his
exchequer quite drained, and being obliged to be at an
extraordinary expence in celebrating the fifth year of
the reign of his son Arcadius, and the tenth of his own,
an extraordinary tax was laid upon all the people in
the empire. Most of the cities submitted willingly fo
this : but the people of Antioch, complaining of it
as an unreasonable oppression, crowded to the house
of Flavianus, their bishop, as soon as the edict was
published, to implore his protection. Being unable
to find him, they returned to the forum j 'and would
have torn the governor in pieces, had not the officers
who attended him kept back with great difficulty the
enraged multitude, till he made his escape. Upon this,
they broke some of the emperor’s statues, and dragged
others through the city, uttering the most injurious and
abusive expressions against him and his whole family.
They were, however, dispersed by a body of archers,
who, by wounding only two of the rabble, struck ter¬
ror into all the rest. Tire governor proceeded against
the offenders with the utmost cruelty j exposing some
to wild beasts in the theatre, and burning others alive.
He did not spare even the children, who had insulted
the emperor’s statues j and caused several persons to
be executed, who had been only spectators of the dis¬
order. In the mean time a report was spread, that a
body of troops was at hand, with orders to plunder the
city
ANT [ 432 ] ANT
Antioch, city, and put all to the sword, without distinction of
■"•■'-v 1 sex or age ; upon which the citizens abandoned their
dwellings in the utmost terror and confusion, retmng
to the neighbouring mountains with their wives and
families. As the report proved groundless, some of
them returned ; but the greater part dreading the
cruelty of the governor, and the displeasure of the em¬
peror, continued in their retreats. fIo those who re¬
turned, St Chrysostom preached some homilies, which
have reached our times, and are greatly admired *, and
which are said by St Chrysostom himself, as well as
some cotemporary writers, to have had a considerable
effect in reforming the lives of this licentious and dis¬
solute people. On hearing the news of this tumult,
Theodosius was so much enraged, that he commanded
the city to be destroyed, and its inhabitants to be put
to the sword without distinction 5 but this order was
revoked before it could be put into execution, and he
contented himself with a punishment similar to that in¬
flicted by Severus above mentioned. He appointed
judges to punish the offenders ; who proceeded with such
severity, and condemned such numbers, that the city
was thrown into the utmost consternation. On this
occasion St Chrysostom and the hermits, who were
very numerous in the neighbourhood, exerted all their
eloquence in behalf of the unhappy people, and ob¬
tained a respite for those who had been condemned.
They next proceeded to draw up a memorial to the
emperor in favour of the citizens in general •, and be¬
ing joined by Flavianus, at last obtained a general
pardon, and had the city restored to all its former pri¬
vileges.
In the year -458, Antioch was almost entirely ruined
by an earthquake,, which happened on the 14th of Sep¬
tember j scarce a single house being left standing in the
most beautiful quarter of the city. The like misfor¬
tune it experienced in 529, during the reign of the
emperor Justin ; and in 15 years after, being taken by
Cosrhoes king of Persia, that insulting and haughty
monarch gave it up to his soldiers, who put all they
met to the sword. The king himself seized on all the
gold and silver vessels belonging to the great church ;
and caused all the valuable statues, pictures, &c. to be
taken down and conveyed to Persia, while his soldiers
carried off every thing else. The city being thus com¬
pletely plundered, Cosrhoes ordered his men to set fire
to it; which was accordingly done so effectually, that
none of the buildings even without the walls escaped.
Such of the inhabitants as escaped slaughter were car¬
ried into Persia and sold as slaves.
Notwithstanding so many and so great calamities,
the city of Antioch soon recovered its wonted splen¬
dour j but in a short time underwent its usual fate, be¬
ing almost entirely destroyed by an earthquake in 587,
by which 30,000 persons lost their lives. In 634, it
fell into the hands of the Saracens, who kept posses¬
sion of it till the year 858, when it was surprised by
one Burtzas, and again annexed to the Roman empire.
The Romans continued masters of it for some time,
till the civil dissensions in the empire gave the Turks
an opportunity of seizing upon it as well as the whole
kingdom of Syria. From them it was again taken by
the Crusaders in 1098. In 1262, it was again taken
by Bibaris sultan of Egypt, who put a final period to
its glory.
Antioch, now called Antakia, is a ruinous town, Antiou
whose houses, built with mud and straw, and narrow (J
and miry streets, exhibit every appearance of misery Antiochii
and wretchedness. These houses are situated on the v ^
southern bank of the Orontes, at the extremity of an
old decayed bridge: they are covered to the south by a
mountain j upon the slope of which is a wall, built by
the Crusaders. The distance between the present town
and this mountain may be about 400 yards, which spac®
is occupied by gardens and heaps of rubbish, but prs-
sents nothing interesting.
Notwithstanding the unpolished manners of its inha¬
bitants, Antiodh was better calculated than Aleppo to
be the emporium of the Europeans. By clearing the
mouth of the Orontes, which is six leagues lower down,
boats might have been towed rip that river, though they
could not have sailed up, as Pococke has asserted 5 its
-current being too rapid. The natives, who never knew
the name Orontes, call it, on account of the swiftness
of its stream, El aasi, that is, the rebel. Its breadth
at Antioch, is about forty paces. Seven leagues abov®
that town it passes by a lake abounding in fish, and
especially in eels. A great quantity of these are salt¬
ed every year, but not sufficient for the numerous fasts
of the Greek Christians. It is to be remembered, w®
no longer hear at Antioch, either of the Grove, or
Daphne, or of the voluptuous scenes of which it was
the theatre.
The plain of Antioch, though the soil of it is excel¬
lent, is uncultivated, and abandoned to the Turcomans-j
diut the hills on the side of the Orontes, particularly op¬
posite Serkin, abound in plantations of figs and olives,
vines, and mulberry trees, which, a thing uncommon
in Turkey, are planted in quincunx, and exhibit a
landscape worthy our finest provinces.
Seleucus Nicator, who founded Antioch, built also
at the mouth of the Orontes, on the northern bank, a
large and well fortified city, which bore bis name, but
of which at present not a single habitation remains ;
nothing is to be seen but heaps of rubbish, and works
in the adjacent rock, which prove that this was once a
place of very considerable importance. In the sea also
may be perceived the traces of two piers, which are in¬
dications of an ancient port, now choked up. The in¬
habitants of the country go thither to fish, and call tb®
name of the place Souaidia.
ANTIOCHETTA, a town of Turkey in Asia, in
Caramania, with a bishop’s see, over against the island
of Cyprus. E. Long. 32. 15. N. Lat. 36. 20.
ANTIOCHIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Assyria, situated between the rivers Tigris and Tor-
nadotus (Pliny).—Another of Caria, on the Meander j
called also Pythopolis, Athym'bra, and Nyssa, or Nysa,
(Stephanus) : but Strabo says, that Nysa was near
Tralles.—A third of Cilicia Trachea, on Mount Cra-
gus (Ptolemy).-—A fourth called Epidaphnes, the ca¬
pital of Syria, distinguished from cities .of the same
name, either by its situation on the Orontes, by which
it was divided, or by its proximity to Daphne {see
Antioch).—A fifth Antiochia, a town of Comagene,
on the Euphrates (Pliny).—A sixth of Lydia Tralles,
so called (Pliny).—A seventh, of Margiana (Strabo,
Pliny, Ptolemy), on the river Margus, taking its
name from Antiochus, son of Seleucus, who rebuilt it,
and walled it round, being before called Alexandria,
I from
ANT [ 433 ] ANT
tnitochia from Alexander the founder, and surnamed Syria $ in
I) compass seventy stadia ; whither Orodes carried the Ro-
Antiparos. mauSj after the defeat of Crassus (Pliny).—An eighth,
' "v ' in Mesopotomia, on the lake Calirrhoe, the old name
of Edessa (Pliny).—A ninth Antiochia, on the river
Mygdonius, in Mesopotomia, situated at the foot of
Mount Masius, and is the same with Nisibis (Strabo,
Plutarch). It was the bulwark and frontier town of
the Romans against the Parthians and Persians, till
given up to the Persians, by Jovinian, by an ignomini¬
ous peace (Ammian, Eutropius).—A tenth Antiochia,
was that situated in the north of Pisidia (Luke, Pto¬
lemy, Strabo) : it was a Roman colony, with the ap¬
pellation Ccesarea. There is an Antiochia at Mount
Taurus, mentioned by Ptolemy, but by no other au¬
thor.
ANTIOCHIAN sect or Academy, a name given
to the fifth academy, or branch of Academies. It took
the denomination from its being founded by Antiochus,
a philosopher contemporary with Cicero.—The Antio¬
chian academy succeeded the Philonian. As to point
of doctrine, the philosophers of this sect appear to have
restored that of the ancient academy, except that in the
article of the criterion of truth. Antiochus was really
a Stoic, and only nominally an Academic.
Antiochian Epocha, a method of computing time
from the proclamation of liberty granted the city of
Antioch about the time of the battle of Pharsalia.
ANTIOCHUS, the name of several kings of Sy¬
ria. See that article.
Antiochus of Ascalon, a celebrated philosopher,
the disciple of Philo of Larissa, the master of Cicero,
and the friend of Luculius and Brutus. He was found¬
er of a fifth academy: but, instead of attacking other
sects, he set himself down to reconcile them together,
particularly the sect of the Stoics with that of the an¬
cient academy.
ANTIOPE, in fabulous history, the wife of Licus,
king of Thebes, who, being deflowered by Jupiter in
the form of a satyr, brought forth Amphion and Ze-
thus.—Another Antiope was queen of the Amazons ;
and, with the assistance of the Scythians, invaded the
Athenians ; and was vanquished by Theseus.
ANTIPiEDOBAPTISTS, (derived from «m,
against, ttxh, txi^os, child, and (Zx-kt^h, bapti%e, whence
jSfltTrooTDs), is a distinguishing denomination given to
those who object to the baptism of infants j because
they say infants are incapable of being instructed, and
of making that profession of faith which entitles them
to this ordinance, and an admission into church com¬
munion. See Anabaptists and Baptists.
ANTIPAROS, an island in the Archipelago, op¬
posite to Paros, from which it is separated by a strait
about seven miles over. It is the Oleares or Oliat'os,
mentioned by Strabo, Pliny, Virgil, Ovid, &c. 5 and
was, according to Heraclides Ponticus, as quoted by
Stephanos, first peopled by a Phoenician colony from
Sidon. According to Mr Tournefort’s account, it is
about 16 miles in circumference, produces a little wine
and cotton, with as much corn as is necessary for the
maintenance of 60 or 70 families, who live together in
a village at one end of the island, and are mostly Mal¬
tese and French corsairs.
The island is remarkable for a subterraneous cavern
sr grotto, accounted one of the greatest natural curio-
Vol. II. Part IL f
sities in the world. It was first discovered in the last Antiparo*.
century by one Magni an Italian traveller, who has given —vr—^
us the following account: “ Having been informed
(says he) by the natives of Paros, that in the little
island of Antiparos, which lies about two miles from
the former, a gigantic statue was to be seen at the
mouth of a cavern in that place, it was resolved that
we (the French consul and himself) should pay it a vi¬
sit. In pursuance of this resolution, after we had land¬
ed on the island, and walked about four miles through
the midst of beautiful plains and sloping woodlands,
we at length came to a little hill, in the side of which
yawned a most horrid cavern, that, with its gloom, at
first struck us with terror, and almost repressed curiosi¬
ty. Recovering the first surprise, however, we entered
boldly 5 and had not proceeded above 20 paces, when
the supposed statue of the giant presented itself to our
view. We quickly perceived, that what the ignorant
natives had been terrified at as a giant, was nothing
more than a sparry concretion, formed by the water
dropping from the roof of the cave, and by degrees
hardening into a figure that their fears had formed in¬
to a monster. Incited by this extraordinary appear¬
ance, we were induced to proceed still further, in quest
of new adventures in this subterranean abode. As we
proceeded, new wonders offered themselves •, the spars,
formed into trees and shrubs, presented a kind of pe¬
trified grove 5 some white, some green ; and all recede
ing in due perspective. They struck us with the
more amazement, as we knew them to be mere produc¬
tions of nature, who, hitherto in solitude, had, in her
playful moments, dressed the scene as if for her own
amusement.
“ But we had as yet seen but a few of the wonders
of the place, and we were introduced as yet only into
the portico of this amazing temple. In one corner of
this half-illuminated recess, there appeared an opening
of about three feet wide, which seemed to lead to a
place totally dark, and that one of the natives assured
us contained nothing more than a reservoir of water.
Up on this we tried, by throwing down some stones,
which rumbling along the sides of the descent for some
time, the sound seemed at last quashed in a bed of wa¬
ter. In order, however, to be more certain, we sent
in a Levantine mariner, who, by the promise of a good
reward, with a flambeau in his hand, ventured into this
narrow aperture. After continuing within it for about
a quarter of an hour, he returned, carrying some beau¬
tiful pieces of white spar in his hand, which art could
neither imitate nor equal. Upon being informed by
him that the place was full of these beautiful incrusta¬
tions, I ventured in once more with him, for about 50
paces, anxiously and cautiously descending by a steep
and dangerous way. Finding, however, that we came
to a precipice which led into a spacious amphitheatre,
if I may so call it, still deeper than any other part, we
returned j and being provided with a ladder, flambeaux,
and other things to expedite our descent, our whole
company, man by man, ventured into the same open¬
ing, and, descending one after another, we at last saw
ourselves all together in the most magnificent part of
the cavern.
“ Our candles being now all lighted up, and the
whole place completely illuminated, never could the eye
be presented with a more glittering or a more magnifi-,
3 I cent
ANT [ 434 ] ANT
Antiparos. cent scene. The roof all hung with solid icicles, trans-
-v < parent as glass, yet solid as marble. The eye could
scarce reach the lofty and noble ceiling; the sides were
regularly formed with spars 5 and the whole presented
the idea of a magnificent theatre, illuminated with an
immense profusion of lights. The floor consisted of so¬
lid marble; and in several places, magnificent columns,
thrones, altars, and other objects, appeared, as if nature
had designed to mock the curiosities of art. Our voices,
upon speaking or singing, were redoubled to an asto¬
nishing loudness; and upon the firing of a gun, the
noise and reverberations 'tvere almost deafening. In the
midst of this grand amphitheatre rose a concretion of
about 15 feet high, that, in some measure, x’esembled
an altar ; from which, taking the hint, we caused mass
to be celebrated there. The beautiful columns that
shot up round the altar, appeared like candlesticks $
and many other natural objects represented the cus¬
tomary ornaments of this sacrament.
“ Below even this spacious grotto, there seemed an¬
other cavern $ down which I ventured with my former
mariner, and descended about 50 paces by means of a
rope. I at last arrived at a small spot of level ground,
where the bottom appeared different from that of the
amphitheatre, being composed of soft clay, yielding to
the pressure, and in which I thrust a stick to about six
feet deep. In this, howevex*, as above, numbers of the
most beautiful crystals were formed ; one of which,
particularly resembled a table. Upon our egress from
this amazing cavern, we perceived a Greek inscription
upon a rock at the mouth ; but so obliterated by time,
that we could not read it. It seemed to import, that
one Antipater, in the time of Alexander, had come thi¬
ther ; but whether he penetrated into the depths of the
cavern, he does not think fit to inform us.”
From this account Mr Tournefort’s differs consider¬
ably. Mr Magni mentions only one descent or pre¬
cipice from the entry of the cave to the grotto, or
most magnificent pax t; Mr Tournefort says that there
were many very dangerous precipices and rugged ways,
through which they were obliged to pass sometimes on
their back, and sometimes on their belly, but gives no
particular account of his journey till he come to the
grand cavern. This indeed he describes veiy pompous¬
ly $ but as by it he evidently wants to support a favour¬
ite hypothesis, namely, the vegetation of stones, per¬
haps the particulars are not altogether to be depended
upon. He informs us, that, at the entry into the ca¬
vern, he met with a Greek inscription almost effaced,
containing a good number of proper names $ and that
there was a tradition among the inhabitants, that these
were the names of those who had conspired against
Alexander the Great, and having missed their aim, had
taken refuge in this grotto.
The most particular account, however, of this fa¬
mous grotto that hath hitherto been published, appear¬
ed in the British Magazine, in a letter signed Charles
Saunders, and dated Feb. 24. 1746-7 ; which, as it
is very particular, and seems to bear sufficient marks of
authenticity, we shall here insert. “ Its entrance lies
in the side of a rock, about twm miles from the sea¬
shore ; and is a spacious and very large arch, formed
of rough craggy rocks, overhung with brambles and
a great many climbing plants, that give it a gloomi¬
ness which is very awful and agreeable. Our surgeon,
3,
myself, and four passengers, attended by six guides Antiparos.
with lighted torches, entered this cavern about eight > — j
o’clock in the morning in the middle of August last.
We had not gone 20 yards in this cavity when we lost
all sight of day light : but oixr guides going before us
with light, we entered into a low nari’ow kind of al¬
ley, surrounded every way with stones all glittering like
diamonds by the light of our torches j the whole be¬
ing covered and lined throughout with small crystals,
which gave a thousand various colours by their different
reflections. The alley grows lower and narrower as
one goes on, till at length one can scarce get along it.
At the end of this passage we were each of us present¬
ed with a rope, to tie about our middles $ which when
we had done, our guides led us to the brink of a most
horrible precipice. The descent into this was quite
steep, and the place all dark and gloomy. We could
see nothing, in short, but some of our guides with
torches in a misex-able dark place, at a vast distance be¬
low us. The dreadful depth of this place, and the hor¬
ror of the descent through a miserable darkness into it,
made me look back to the lane of diamonds, if I may
so call it, through which we had just passed •, and I could
not but think I was leaving heaven, to descend into the
infernal regions. The hope of something fine at my
journey’s end tempted me, however, to trust myself
to the rope and my guides at the top, to let myself
down. After about two minutes dangling in this pos¬
ture, not without much pain as well as terror, I
found myself safe, however, at the bottom $ and our
friends all soon followed the example. When we had
congratulated here with one another on our safe de¬
scent ; I was inquiring where the grotto, as they call¬
ed it, was. Our guides, shaking their heads, told us,
we had a great way to that yet: and led us forward
about 30 yards under a roof of ragged rocks, in a
scene of terrible darkness, and at a vast depth from the
surface of the earth, to the brink of another precipice
much deeper and more terrible than the former. Two
of the guides went down here with their torches first j
and by their light we could see, that this passage was
not so perpendicular indeed as the other, but lay in a
very steep slant, with a very slippery rock for the bot¬
tom ; vast pieces of rough rugged rocks jutting out in
many places on the right hand, in the descent, and for¬
cing the guides sometimes to climb over, sometimes to
creep under them, and sometimes to round them ; and
on the left, a thousand dark caverns, like so many mons¬
trous wells, ready, if a foot should slip, to swallow them
up for ever. We stood on the edge to see these people
with their lights descend before us ; and were amazed
and terrified to see them continue descending till they
seemed at a monstrous and most frightful depth. When
they were at the bottom, however, they hollaed to
us j and we, trembling and quaking, began to descend
after them. We had not gone 30 feet down, when we
came to a place where the x-ock was perfectly perpendi¬
cular $ and a vast cavern seemed to open its mouth to
swallow us up on one side, while a wall of rugged
rock threatened to tear us to pieces on the other. I
was quite disheartened at this terrible prospect, and
declared I would go back ; but oUr guides assui-ed us
there was no danger j and the rest of the company re¬
solving to see the bottom now they were come so far, I
would not leavethem: so on we went to a corner where
there
ANT f 43S ] ANT
Antiparos* there was placed an old slippery and rotten ladder,
v"""' which hung down close to the rock j and down this,
one after another, we at length all descended. When
we had got to the bottom of this, we found ourselves at
the entrance of another passage, which was terrible
enough indeed j but in this there was not wanting some¬
thing of beauty. This was a wide and gradual de¬
scent j at the entrance of which one of our guides seat¬
ed himself on his breech, and began to slide down,
telling us we must do the same. We could discover, by
the light of his torch, that this passage was one of the
noblest vaults in the world. It is about nine feet high,
seven wide, and has for its bottom a fine green glossy
marble. The walls and arch of the roof of this being
as smooth and even in most places as if wrought by
art, and made of a fine glistering red and white gra¬
nite, supported here and there with columns of a deep
blood-red shining porphyry, made, with the reflection
of the lights, an appearance not to be conceived. This
passage is at least 40 yards long; and of so steep a de¬
scent, that one has enough to do, when seated on one’s
breech not to descend too quickly. Our guides, that we
kept with us, could here keep on each side of us j and,
what with the prodigious grandeur and beauty of the
place, our easy travelling through it, and the diversion
of our now and then running over one another whether
we would or not; this was much the pleasantest part of
our journey. When we had entered this passage, I
imagined we should at the bottom join the two guides
we had first set down but alas ! when we were got
there we found ourselves only at the mouth of ano¬
ther precipice, down which we descended by a second
ladder not much better than the former. I could have
admired this place also, would my terror have suffered
me $ but the dread of falling, kept all my thoughts
employed during my descent. I could not but observe,
however, as my companions were coming down after
me, that the wall, if I may so call it, which the lad¬
der hung by, was one mass of blood-red marble, co¬
vered with white sprigs of rock crystal as long as my
finger, and making, with the glow of the purple from
behind, one continued immense sheet of amethysts.
From the foot of this ladder we slided on our bellies
through another shallow vault of polished green and
white marble, about 20 feet: and at the bottom of this
joined our guides. Here we all got together once
again, and drank some rum, to give us courage before
we proceeded any farther. Alter this short refresh¬
ment, we proceeded by a strait, but somewhat slanting
passage, of a rough, hard, and somewhat coarse stone,
full of a thousand strange figures of snakes rolled round,
and looking as if alive 5 hut in reality as cold and hard
as the rest of the stone, and nothing but some of the
stone itself in that shape. We walked pretty easily a-
long this descent for near 200 yards ; v/here we saw
two pillars seemingly made to support the roof from
falling in ; but in reality it was no such thing; for they
were very brittle, and made of a fine glittering yellow
marble. When we had passed these about 200 yards,
we found ourselves at the brink of another very terrible
precipice: but this our guides assured us was the last;
and there being a very good ladder to go down by, we
readily ventured. At the bottom of this steep wall, as
I may call it, we found ourselves for some way upon
plain even ground ; but, after about 40 yards walking,
were presented by our guides with ropes again ; which Antiparos.
we fastened about our middles, though not to be swung l——y—
down by, but only for fear of danger, as there are lakes
and deep waters all the way from hence on the left hand.
With this caution, however, we entered the last alley:
and horrible work it was indeed to get through it. All
was perfectly horrid and dismal here. The sides and
roof of the passage were all of black stone ; and the
rocks in our way were in some places so steep, that we
were forced to lie all along on our backs, and slide
down ; and so rough, that they cut our clothes, and
bruised us miserably in passing. Over our heads, there
was nothing but ragged black rocks, some of them
looking as if they were every moment ready to fall in
upon us; and, on our left hands, the light of our guides
torches shewed us continually the surfaces of dirty and
miserably looking lakes of water. If I had heartily
repented of my expedition often before, here I assure
you I was all in a cold sweat, and fairly gave myself
over for lost; heartily cursing all the travellers that had
written of this place, that they had described it so as
to tempt people to see it, and never told us of the hor¬
rors that lay in the way. In the midst of all these re¬
flections, and in the very dismallest part of all the ca¬
vern, on a sudden we had lost four of our six guides.
What was my terror on this sight ! The place was a
thousand times darker and more terrible for want of
their torches ; and I expected no other but every mo¬
ment to follow them into some of these lakes, into
which I doubted not but they were fallen. The remaiiir
ing two guides said all they could indeed, to cheer us
up ; and told us we should see the other four again
soon, and that we were near the end of our journey. I
do not know what effect this might have upon the rest
of my companions ; but I assure you I believed no part
of the speech but the last, which I expected every mo¬
ment to find fulfilled in some pond or precipice. Our
passage was by this time become very narrow, and we
were obliged to crawl on all-fours over rugged rocks;
when in an instant, and in the midst of these melancho¬
ly apprehensions, I heard a little hissing noise, and saw
myself in utter, and not to be described, darkness. Our
guides called indeed cheerfully to us, and told us that
they had accidentally dropped their torches into a pud¬
dle of water, but we should soon come to the rest of
them, and they would light them again ; and told us
there was no danger, and we had nothing to do but
to crawl forward. I cannot say but I was amazed at
the courage of these people ; who were in a place where,
I thought, four of them had already perished, and
from whence we could none of us ever escape; and de¬
termined to lie down and die where I was. Words can¬
not describe the horror or the extreme darkness of the
place. One of our guides, however, perceiving that 1
did not advance, came up to me, and clapping his hand
firmly over my eyes, dragged me a few paces forward.
While I was in this strange condition, expecting every
moment death in a thousand shapes, and trembling to
think what the guide meant by this rough proceeding,
he lifted me at once over a great stone, set me down on
my feet, and took his hand from before my eyes. W hat
words can describe at that instant my astonishment and
transport ! Instead of darkness and despair, all was
splendour and magnificence before me: our guides all
appeared about us : the place was illuminated by 50
3 I 2 torches,
ANT [ 436 ] ANT
Aatiparos. torches, and the guides all welcomed me into the grot-
to of Antiparos. The four that were first missing, I
now found had only given us the slip, to get the torches
lighted up before we came ; and the other two had put
out their lights on purpose, to make us enter out of ut¬
ter darkness into this pavilion of splendour and glory.
I am now come to the proper business of this letter :
which was to describe this grotto. But I must confess
to you that words cannot do it. The amazing beau¬
ties of tbe place, the eye that sees them only can con¬
ceive. The best account I can give you, however,
pray accept of.
“ The people told us, the depth of this place was 485
yards ; the grotto, in which we now were, is a cavern
of 120 yards wide, and 113 long, and seems about 60
yards high in most places. These measures differ some¬
thing from the accounts travellers in general give us 5
but you may depend upon them as exact, for I took
them with my own hand. Imagine then with your¬
self, an immense arch like this, almost all over lined
with fine and bright crystallized white marble, and
illuminated with 50 torches ; and you will then have
some faint idea of the place I had the pleasure to spend
three hours in. This, however, is but a faint descrip¬
tion of its beauties. The roof, which is a fine vaulted
arch, is hung all over with icicles of white shining mar¬
ble, some of them ten feet long, and as thick as one’s
middle at the root 5 and among these hang a thousand
festoons of leaves and flowers, of the same substance j
but so very glittering, that there is no bearing to look
up at them. The sides of the arch are planted with
seeming trees of the same white marble, rising in rows
one above another, and often enclosing the points of
the icicles. From these trees there are also hung fe¬
stoons, tied as it were from one to another in vast
quantities j and in some places among them there seem
rivers of marble winding through them in a thousand
meanders. All these things are only made, in a long
course of years, from the dropping of water, but really
look like trees and brooks turned to marble. The
floor we trod upon was rough and uneven, with cry¬
stals of all colours growing irregularly out of it, red,
blue, green, and some of a pale yellow. These were
all shaped like pieces of saltpetre 5 but so hard, that
they cut our shoes ; among these, here and there, are
placed icicles of the same white shining marble with those
above, and seeming to have fallen down from the roof
and fixed there j only the big end of these is to the floor.
To all these our guides had tied torches, two or three
to a pillar, and kept continually beating them, to make
them burn bright. You may guess what a glare of
splendour and beauty must be the effect of this illumi¬
nation, among such rocks and columns of marble. All
round the lower part of the sides ef the arch are a thou¬
sand white masses of marble, in the shape of oak trees.
Mr Tournefort compares them to cauliflowers, but I
should as soon compare them to toadstools. In short,
they are large enough to enclose, in many places, a
piece of ground big enough for a bedchamber. One of
these chambers has a fair white curtain, whiter than
satin, of the same marble, stretched all over the front
of it. In this we all cut our names, and the date of
the year, as a great many people have done before us.
In a course of years afterwards, the stone blisters out
like this white marble over the letters. Mr Tourne¬
fort thinks the rock grows like oaks or apple trees for Antiptro?
this reason; but I remember I saw some of the finest Antipas.
cockle and muscle shells, in the rock thereabouts, that
ever I saw in my life. I wonder whether he thinks
they grow there too. Besides, if this rock grows so
fast, the cavern ought to be all grown up by this time j
and yet, according to his measures and mine, the ca¬
vern seems on the other hand to be turned larger since.
Indeed, all that I can gather from his account of this
glorious place is, that he had drank a bottle or two too
much before he went down into it.”
ANTIPAS herod, or Herod-Antipas, the son
of Herod the Great, by one of his wives called Cleo¬
patra, a native of Jerusalem. Herod the Great, in
his first will, appointed Antipas his successor in the
kingdom *, but afterwards, altering that will, he named
his son Archelaus his successor, giving to Antipas the
title only of tetrarch of Galilee and Persea.
Antipas took a great deal of pains in adorning and
fortifying the principal places of his dominions. He
married the daughter of Aretas king of Arabia ; whom
he divorced about the year of Christ 33, to marry his
sister-in-law Herodias, wife to his brother Philip, who
was still living. St John the Baptist exclaiming con¬
tinually against this incest, was taken into custody by
order of Antipas, and imprisoned in the castle of Ma-
chserus, (Mat. xiv. 3, 4. Mark i. 14. vi. 17, 18.
Luke iii. 19, 20.). Josephus says, that Antipas caused
St John to be laid hold of, because he drew too great a
concourse of people after him j and that he was afraid
lest he should make use of the authority which he had
acquired over the minds and affections of tbe people^
to induce them to revolt. But the evangelists, who
were better informed than Josephus, as being eye wit¬
nesses of what passed, and acquainted in a particular
manner with St John and his disciples, assure us that
the true reason of imprisoning St John was the aversion
which Herod and Herodias had conceived against him
for the liberty he had used in censuring their scandal¬
ous marriage. The virtue and holiness of St John were
such, that even Herod feared and respected him 5 but
his passion for Herodias had prevailed with him to have
killed that prophet, had he not been restrained by his
apprehensions of the people, who esteemed John the
Baptist as a prophet. (Mat. xiv. 5, 6.). One day,
however, while the king was celebrating the festival of
his birth, with the principal persons of his court, the
daughter of Herodias danced before him ; and pleased
him so well, that he promised with an oath to give her
whatever she should ask of him. By her mother’s ad¬
vice she asked the head of John the Baptist: upon
which the king commanded John to be beheaded in
prison, and the head to be given her. Aretas, king
of Arabia, to revenge the affront which Herod had
offered to his daughter, declared war against him, and
overcame him in a very obstinate engagement. Herod
being afterwards detected as a party in Sejanus’s con¬
spiracy, was banished by the emperor Caius to Lyons
in Gaul 5 ‘whither Herodias accompanied him.
This Antipas is the Herod who, being at Jerusalem
at the time of our Saviour’s passion (Luke xxiii. 11.),
ridiculed him, by dressing him in a white robe, and di¬
recting him to be conducted back to Pilate, as a mock
king, whose ambition gave him no umbrage. Tbe
time when Antipas died is not known ; however, it is
certain
ANT r 437 3 ANT
Antipns certain he died in exile, as well as Herodias. Jose-
[) plius says, that he died in Spain, whither Cains upon
ntipathy. his coming to Gaul, the first year of his banishment,
might order him to be sent.
ANTIPATER, the disciple of Aristotle, and one
of Alexander the Great’s generals, was a man of great
abilities, and a lover of the sciences; but was accused
of poisoning Alexander. He subdued the revolted
Thracians, relieved Megalopolis, and overthrew the
Spartans there. He died 321 years before the Chris¬
tian era.
Antipater, an Idumean of illustrious birth, and
possessed of great riches and abilities, taking advantage
of the confusion into which the two brothers Hyrcanns
and Aristobulus plunged Judea by their contest for
the office of high priest, took such measures as to gain
Hyrcanus that office, and under his government to
obtain the absolute direction of all afiairs ; while his
great abilities and application to business made him so
considerable, that he was honoured as much as if he
had been invested with the royal authority in form :
but he was at last poisoned by a Jew, named Mala-
chus, 43 years before the Christian era. He left,
among his other children, the famous Herod king of
the Jews.
Antipater, Cceliun, a Roman historian, who wrote
a history of the Punic war, much valued by Cicero.
The emperor Adrian preferred him to Sallust.
Antipater of Sidon, a Stoic philosopher, and like¬
wise a poet, commended by Cicero and Seneca: he
flourished about the 171st Olympiad. We have several
of his epigrams in the Anthologia.
ANTIPATHY, in Physiology, is formed from the
two Greek words, contrary, and passion. Li¬
terally taken, the word signifies incompatibility : but for
the most part the term antipathy is not used to signify
such incompatibilities as are merely physical; it is re¬
served to express the aversion which an animated or
sensitive being feels at the real or ideal presence of par¬
ticular objects. In this point of view, which is the
light in which we at present consider the term, antipa¬
thy, in common language, signifies “ a natural hor¬
ror and detestation, an insuperable hatred, an invo¬
luntary aversion, which a sensitive being feels for some
other object, whatever it is, though the person who
feels this abhorrence is entirely ignorant of its cause,
and can by no means account for it. Such is, they
say, the natural and reciprocal hostility betrveen the sa¬
lamander and the tortoise ; between the toad and the
weasel ; or between sheep and wolves. Such is, the in¬
vincible aversion of particular persons against cats,
mice, spiders, &c.: a prepossession which is sometimes
so violent, as to make them faint at the sight of these
animals. Of these and a thousand other antipathies,
the ancient naturalists, the schoolmen, and the vul¬
gar, form so many legends ; and relate them as cer¬
tain facts, that they may demand an explication of
them from the philosophers. But these sages begin
with investigating whether such antipathies actually
exist or not.
To explore the matter without prejudice, we shall
find it necessary to abstract from the subjects of this
disquisition, 1. All such antipathies as are not ascer¬
tained ; as that which is supposed to be felt by hens
at the sound of a harp whose strings are made of a
fox’s bowels, between the salamander and tortoise, and Antipatk*
between the weasel and the toad. Nothing is less con- ' v
firmed, or rather nothing is more false, than these
facts, with which vulgar credulity and astonishment
are amused and actuated : and though some of these
antipathies should be ascertained, this would be no
proof that the animals which feel them are not ac.
quainted with their causes, according to their mode and
proportion of knowledge ; in which case it will be no
longer the antipathy which we have defined.
2. We must abstract those antipathies which can be
extinguished or resumed at pleasure ; those fictitious
aversions, which certain persons feel, or pretend to feel,
with affected airs, that they may appear more precise
and finical, or singularly and prodigiously elegant;
that they may seem to have qualities so exquisitely fine,
as require to be treated with peculiar delicacy. One
ivho bestows any attention on the subject, would be
astonished to find how many of these chimerical aver¬
sions there are, which are pretended, and passed upon
the world by those who affect them as natural and un¬
conquerable.
3. When we abstract those aversions the causes of
which are known and evident; we shall be surprised
after our deduction of those pretended antipathies from
the general sum, how small, how inconsiderable, is the
quantity of those which are conformable to our defini¬
tion. Will any one pretend to call by the name of an¬
tipathy, those real, innate, and incontestable aversions
which prevail between sheep and wolves ? Their cause
is obvious; the wolf devours the sheep, and subsists up¬
on his victims ; and every animal naturally flies with
terror from pain or destruction ; sheep ought therefore
to regard wolves with horror, which for their nutrition
tear and mangle the unresisting prey. From principles
similar to this, arises that aversion which numbers of
people feel against serpents; against small animals, such
as reptiles in general, and the greatest number of in¬
sects. During the credulous and susceptible period of
infancy, pains have been taken to impress on our minds
the frightful idea that they are venomous ; that their
bite is mortal ; that their sting is dangerous, produc¬
tive of tormenting inflammations or tumours, and
sometimes fatal : they have been represented to us as
ugly and sordid ; as being, for that reason, pernicious
to those who touch them ; as poisoning those who
have the misfortune to swallow them. These horrible
prepossessions are industriously inculcated from our in¬
fancy ; they are sometimes attended and supported by
dismal tales, which are greedily imbibed, and indelibly
engraved on our memories. It has been taught us
both by precept and example, when others at their
approach have assumed in our view the appearance of
detestation and even of terror, that we should fly from
them, that we should not touch them. Is it then ivon-
derful (if our false impressions as to this subject have
been corrected neither by future reflections nor expe¬
riments) that we should entertain, during our whole
lives, an aversion for these objects, even when we
have forgot the admonitions, the conversations, and
examples, which have taught us to believe and appre¬
hend them as noxious beings ? and in proportion to the
sensibility of our frame, in proportion as our nerves
are irritable, our emotions at the sight of what we
fear will be more violent, especially if they anticipate
our :•
ANT [ 433 ] -ANT
Antipathy, our expectation, and seize us unprepared, though our
——v-—ideas of what we have to fear from them are the most
confused and indistinct imaginable. To explain these
facts, is it necessary to fly to the exploded subterfuge
of occult qualities inherent in bodies, to latent relations
productive of antipathies, of which no person could ever
form an idea ?
It is often sufficient to influence a person who had
formerly no aversion for an object, if he lives with some
other associate who gives himself up to such capricious
panics 5 the habit is insensibly contracted to be agitated
with disagreeable emotions at the presence of an ob¬
ject which had been formerly beheld with indifference
and cold blood. I was acquainted (says the author
of the article Antipathy in the French Encyclopedic)
with a person of a very sound understanding, whom
thunder and lightning by no means terrified ; nay, to
whom the spectacle appeared magnificent and the sound
majestic : yet to a mind thus seemingly fortified against
the infectious terror, no more was necessary than spend¬
ing the summer with a friend in whom the appearance
of lightning excited the strongest emotions, and whom
the remotest clap of thunder affected with extravagant
paroxysms, to become timid in excess at the approach
of thunder; nor could he ever afterwards surmount the
fear which it inspired. The frightful stories of dogs
and cats, which have killed their masters, or which
have given them mortal wounds, are more than suffi¬
cient to inspire a timorous person with aversion against
these animals ; and if the olfactory nerves of such a
person be delicate, he will immediately discover the
smell of them in a chamber : disturbed by the appre¬
hension which these effluvia excite in his mind, he
gives himself up to the most violent uneasiness, which
is tranquillized when he is assured that the animal is no
longer in the room. If by chance, in the search wdiich
is made to calm the uneasiness of this timorous per¬
son, one of these creatures should at last be discovered,
every one presently exclaims, A miracle; and admits
the reality of antipathies into his creed ; whilst all this
is nothing but the effect of a childish fear, founded
on certain confused and exaggerated ideas of the ha¬
zard which one may run with these animals. The anti¬
pathy which some people entertain against eels, though
they are eaten by others with pleasure, arises from no¬
thing but the fear of serpents, to which these fishes are
in some degree similar. There are likewise other a?iti-
pathies which do not originate in the imagination, but
arise from some natural incongruity j such as we often
remark in children, for particular kinds of victuals,
with which their taste is not offended, but which their
stomachs cannot digest, and which are therefore dis¬
gorged as soon.as swallowed.
To what then are those antipathies of which we have
heard so much reducible ! Either to legendary tales ;
or to aversions against objects which we believe danger¬
ous : or to a childish terror of imaginary perils ; or to
a disrelish, of which the cause is disguised ; or to a ri¬
diculous affectation of delicacy ; or to an infirmity of
the stomach ; in a word, to a real or pretended reluc¬
tance for things which are either invested, or supposed
to be invested, with qualities hurtful to us. Too much
care cannot be taken in preventing, or regulating, the
antipathies of children ; in familiarizing them with ob¬
jects of every kind ; in discovering to them, without
emotion, such as are dangerous ; in teaching them the Antipatlij
means of defence and security, or the methods of esca- ||
ping their noxious influence: and, when the rational Antiphony,
powers are matured by age, in reflecting on the na- '■—“’V—»■
tore of those objects which wre fear, in ascertaining what
has beeji told concerning their qualities, or in vigorously
operating upon our own dispositions to overcome those
vain repugnancies which we may feel. See SYMPATHY,
which is the opposite of Antipathy.
Antipathy, in Ethics, hatred, aversion, repugnan¬
cy* FZctfra/is entertained against persons; aversion,
and antipathy indiscriminately, against persons or
things ; and repugnancy against actions alone.
Hatred is more voluntary than aversion, antipathy,
or repugnancy. These last have greater affinity with
the animal constitution. The causes of ANTIPATHY
are less known than those of aversion. Repugnancy is
less permanent than either the one or the other. We
hate a vicious character, we feel aversion to its exer¬
tions : we are affected with antipathy for certain per¬
sons at first sight; there are some affairs which we
transact with repugnancy.—Hatred calumniates ; aver¬
sion keeps us at a distance from certain persons : AN¬
TIPATHY makes us detest them ; repugnancy hinders
us from imitating them.
ANTIPATRIS (Acts xxiii. 31.), a town of Pales¬
tine, anciently called Caphar Saba, according to Jose¬
phus, but named Antipatris by Herod the Great, in
honour of his father Antipater. It was situated in a
pleasant Valley near the mountains, in the way from
Jerusalem to Caesarea. Josephus places it at about the
distance of seventeen miles from Joppa.
ANTIPELARGIA, among the ancients, a law,
whereby children are obliged to furnish necessaries to
their aged parents. The ciconia, or stork, is a bird fa¬
mous for the care it takes of its parents when grown
old. Hence, in some Latin writers, this is rendered
lex ciconiaria, or the stork’s law.
ANTIPHONARY, Antiphonarium, a service
book, which contained all the invitatories, responsories,
collects, and whatever else Was sung or said in the
choir, except the lessons. This is otherwise called re-
sponsarium, from the responses therein contained. The
author of the Roman antiphonary was Pope Gregory
the Great. We also find mention of nocturnal and di¬
urnal antiphonaries, for the use of the daily and night¬
ly offices ; summer and winter antiphonaries; also an¬
tiphonaries for country churches, &c. By the provin¬
cial constitutions of Archbishop Winchelsey, made at
Merton, A. D. 1305, it is required that one of these
should be found in every church within the province of
Canterbury. The use of these, and many other popish
hooks, was forbid by the 3d and 4th of Edward VI,
c. 10.
ANTIPHONY, the answer made by one choir to
another, when the psalm or anthem is sung between
two.
ANTIPHONY sometimes denotes a species of psal¬
mody, wherein the congregation being divided into
two parts, repeat the psalms, verse for verse, alternate¬
ly. In this sense, antiphony stands contradistinguished
from symphony, where the whole congregation sings to¬
gether.
Antiphony differs from responsorium, because in this
latter the verse is only spoken by one person, where¬
as
ANT [ 439 ] ANT
atiphony a3 in the former, the verses are sung by the two choirs
j] alternately. The original of antiphonal singing in the
atiquare. western churches is referred to the time of St Am-
brose, about the year 374. That father is said to have
first introduced it into the church of Milan, in imita¬
tion of the custom of the eastern church, where it ap¬
pears to be of greater antiquity, though as to the time
of its institution, authors are not agreed ; it was most
probably introduced at Antioch, between the year of
Christ 347 and 356.
Antiphony is also used to denote the words given
out at the beginning of the psalm, to which both the
choirs are to accommodate their singing.
Antiphony, in a more modern sense, denotes a
kind of composition made of several verses extracted
out of different psalms, adapted to express the mystery
solemnized on the occasion.
ANTIPODES, in Geography, a name given to
those inhabitants of the globe that live diametrically
opposite to each other. The word is Greek, and com¬
pounded of *vn, opposite, and wv?, a foot; because their
feet are opposite to each other.
The antipodes lie under opposite meridians and op¬
posite parallels j in the same degree of latitude, but of
opposite denominations, one being north and the other
south. They have nearly the same degree of heat and
cold, days and nights of equal length, but in opposite
seasons. It is noon to one when midnight to the other •,
and the longest day with the one is the shortest with
the. other.
Plato is esteemed the first who thought it possible
that the antipodes subsisted, and is looked upon as the
inventor of the word. As this philosopher apprehended
the earth to be spherical, he had only one step to make
to conclude the existence of the antipodes.
The ancients, in general, treated this opinion with
the highest contempt; never being able to conceive
how men and trees could subsist suspended in the air
with their feet upwards, for so they apprehended they
must be in the other hemisphere.
They never reflected that these terms upwards and
downwards are merely relative j and signify only near¬
er to, or farther from, the centre of the earth, the com¬
mon centre to which all heavy bodies gravitate ; and
that, therefore, our antipodes have not their feet up¬
wards and head dawn wards any more than ourselves j
because they, like us, have their feet nearer the centre
of the earth, and their heads farther from it. To have
the head downwards and feet upwards, is to place the
body in a direction of gravity tending from the feet to
the head : but this cannot be supposed with regard to
the antipodes *, for they, like us, tend toward the centre
of the earth, in a direction from head to foot.
ANT1POLIS, in Ancient Geography, now Anti-
BES, on the coast of Provence, a colony of the Mas-
silians, near the river Verus, in Gallia Narbonensis
(Livy), three leagues to the vrest of Nice. E. Long.
7. 9. N. Lat. 43. 42.
ANTIQUARE, among Roman lawyers, properly
denotes the rejecting of a new law, or refusing to pass
it. In which sense, antiquating differs from abrogat¬
ing; as the latter imports the annulling an old law, the
former the rejecting a new one.
Antiq,uare is also used for a law’s growing obso¬
lete, or into disuse, either by age or non-observance.
ANTIQUARII, a name given to copiers of old Antiquarii,
books. Alter the decline of learning among the Ro- Antiquary,
mans, and when many religious houses were erected,
learning was chiefly in the hands of the clergy *, the
greatest number of whom were regulars, and lived in
monasteries. In these houses were many industrious
men who were continually employed in making new
copies of old books, either for the use ot the monastery
or for their own emolument. These writing monks
were distinguished by the name of Antiquarii. They
deprived the poor librarii, or common scriptores, of great
part of their business, so that these found it difficult to
gain a subsistence for themselves and families. This
put them upon finding out more expeditious methods of
transcribing books. They formed the letters smaller,
and made use of more jugations and abbreviations than
had been usual. They proceeded in this manner till
the letters became exceedingly small ; the abbrevia¬
tions were very numerous, and extremely difficult to
be read. This in some measure accounts for the great
variety of hands in the species of writing called Mo¬
dern Gothic. When a number of copies were to be
made of the same work, it was usual to employ several
persons at the same time in writing it j each person,
except him who wrote the first skin, began where his
fellow was to leave off'.
ANTIQUARY, a person who studies and searches
after monuments and remains of antiquity j as old me¬
dals, books, statues, sculptures, and inscriptions j and,
in general, all curious pieces that may afford any light
into antiquity.
In the chief cities of Greece and Italy, there were
persons of distinction called antiquaries, whose business
it was to show strangers the antiquities of the place, to >
explain the ancient inscriptions, and to give them all
the assistance they could in this way of learning. 
Pausanias calls these antiquaries The Sici¬
lians call them mystagogi.
There was an ancient college of antiquaries erected
in Ireland by Ollamh Fodhla, 700 years before Christ,
for composing a history of that country : And to this,
say the Irish historians, it is owing that the history and
antiquities of that kingdom may be traced back beyond
those of most other nations.
There is a society of antiquaries in London, and ano¬
ther in Edinburgh, incorporated by the king’s charter.
See Society.
Antiquary is also used by ancient writers for the
keeper of the antiquarium or cabinet of antiquities.
The officer is otherwise called avchceota, or antiquary
of a king, a prince, a state or the like.
Henry VIII. gave John Leland the title of bis an¬
tiquary ; a title which, says the author of his life, no¬
body ever enjoyed besides himself. But the restriction, .
we suppose, was only intended to be understood in re¬
spect of the kings of England. M. Schott, we find,
had the title of antiquary to the king of Prussia $
P. Pedruzzi, that of antiquary of the duke of Parma $
M. Galland resided some time in Turkey under the title
of antiquary of the king of France.—The university of
Oxford have still their antiquary, under the denomi¬
nation of custos archivorum.—The kings of Sweden
have been at great expences in order to illustrate the
antiquity of their country, having established an aca¬
demy of antiquaries with this single view.,—The office^
Asliqtiary
H
Antiquities.
ANT [ 440 ] ANT
of the ancient Irish antiquaries was to preserve the ge¬
nealogies of the kings of Ireland, to correct the regal
tables of succession, and deliver down the pedigree of
every collateral branch of the royal family.
ANTIQUATED, something obsolete, out of date,
or out of use.
ANTIQUE, in a general sense, something that is
ancient: but the term is chiefly used by sculptors,
painters, and architects, to denote such pieces of their
diflerent arts as were made by the ancient Greeks and
Romans. Thus we say, an antique bust, an antique
statue, &c.
Antique is something contradistinguished from an¬
cient, which signifies a less degree of antiquity. Thus
antique architecture is frequently distinguished from an¬
cient architecture.
ANTIQUITIES, a term implying all testimonies,
or authentic accounts, that have come down to us, of
ancient nations. Bacon calls antiquities the wrecks of
history, or such particulars as industrious and learned
persons have collected from genealogies, inscriptions,
monuments, coins, names, etymologies, archives, in¬
struments, fragments of history, &c.
Antiquities form a very extensive science, including
an historical knowledge of the edifices, magistrates,
offices, habiliments, manners, customs, ceremonies,
worship, and other objects worthy of curiosity, of all
the principal ancient nations of the earth.”
This science is not a matter of mere curiosity, but
is indispensable to the theologian ; who ought to be
thoroughly acquainted with the antiquities of the Jews,
to enable him properly to explain numberless passages
in the Old and New Testaments : to the lawyer, who3
without the knowledge of the antiquities of Greece and
Rome, can never well understand and properly apply
the greatest part of the Roman laws: to the physician
and the philosopher, that they may have a complete
knowledge of the history and principles of the physic
and philosophy of the ancients: to the critic, that he
may be able to understand and interpret ancient au¬
thors : to the orator and poet j who will be thereby
enabled to ornament their writings with numberless
images, allusions, comparisons, &c.
Antiquities are divided into sacred and profane, into
public and private, universal and particular, &c. It is
true, that the antiquaries (especially such as are infected
with a spirit of pedantry, and the number of these is
great) frequently carry their inquiries too far, and em¬
ploy themselves in laborious researches after learned
trifles j but the abuse ot a science ought never to make
us neglect the applying it to rational and useful pur¬
poses.
Many antiquaries also restrain their learned labours to
the eclaircissement of the antiquities of Greece and
Rome : but this field is far too confined, and by no
means contains the whole ol this science, seeing it
properly includes the antiquities of the Jews, Egyp¬
tians, Persians, Phcenicians, Carthaginians, Hetruscans,
Germans, and, in general, all those principal nations
mentioned in ancient history : so far as any accounts
of them are come down to us.
If to the general subjects above-mentioned we add
the particular study of antiques, of the statues, bass-
reliefs, and the precious relicks of architecture, paint-
iag, camaieus, medals, &c. it is easy to conceive that
2
antiquities form a science very extensive and very com-^^j •.
plicated, and with which only a very small acquaintance   
could have been attainable by any one man, if our pre¬
decessors had not prepared the way for us $ if they had
not left us such inestimable works as those of Gronovi*
us, Grsevius, Montfaucon, Count Caylus, Winckelman,
the Hebraic antiquities of D. Iken of Bremen, the
Grecian antiquities of Brunnings, the Roman antiqui¬
ties of Nieupoort, and especially that work which is
entitled Bibliographia Antiquaria Joh. Alberti Fabi icii,
professor at Hamburgh, &c. &c. Nor must we here
forget that very valuable work, with which our coun¬
tryman Mr Robert Wood has lately enriched this
science, and which is so well known, and so justly
esteemed by all true connoisseurs, under the title of the
Ruins of Palmyra, and those of Baalbec. It is by this
work that we are fully convinced of the grandeur and
magnificence, the taste and elegance, of the buildings
of the ancients. We here see that the invention of
these matters is not all owing to the Greeks, but that
there were other nations who served them as models.
For though many of the edifices of Palmyra are to be
attributed to the emperor Aurelian, and to Odenatus
and his wife Zenobia, who reigned there about the year
264, yet there are found at the same place ruins of
buildings that appear to be of far greater antiquity,
and that are not less beautiful. The ancient Perse-
polis is sufficient to prove this assertion. When we
duly reflect on all these matters, and especially if we
attempt to acquire any knowledge of this science, we
•hall soon be convinced that it but ill becomes a petit-
maitre to laugh at a learned antiquary.
The knowledge of those monuments of the ancients,
the works of sculpture, statuary, graving, painting, &c.
which they call antiques, requires a strict attention
with regard to the matter itself on which the art has
been exercised j as the wax, clay, wood, ivory, stones
of every kind, marble, flint, bronze, and every sort of
metal. We should begin by learning on what mat¬
ter each ancient nation principally worked, and in
which of the fine arts they excelled ; For the matter
itself, as the diflerent sorts of marble, compositions of
metals, and the species of precious stones, serve fre¬
quently to characterize the true antique, and to dis¬
cover the counterfeit. The connoisseurs pretend also
to know, by certain distinct characters in the design
and execution of a work of art, the age and nation
where it was made. They find, moreover, in the in¬
vention and execution, a degree of excellence which
modern artists are not able to imitate. Now, though
we ought to allow, in general, the great merit of the
ancients in the polite arts, we should not, however,
suffer our admiration to lead us into a blind supersti¬
tion. There are pieces of antiquity of every sort,
which have come down to us 5 some that are perfectly
excellent: and others so wretched, that the meanest
among modern artists would not acknowledge them.
The mixture of the good and bad has taken place in
all subjects, at all times and in all nations. The mis¬
fortune is, that most of our great antiquaries have
been so little skilled in designing as scarcely to know
how to draw a circle with a pair of compasses. It U
prejudice, therefore, which frequently directs them to
give the palm to the ancients, rather than a judgment
directed by a knowledge of the art. That character
ANT
. t of expression which they find so marvellous in the
ul || works of antiquity, is often nothing more than a mere
ntiseptic*. chimera. They pretend that the artists of our days
—constantly exaggerate their expressions ; that a modern
Bacchus has the appearance of a man distracted with
intoxication; that a Mercury seems to be animated with
the spirit of a fury ; and so of the rest. But let them
not decide too hastily. Almost all the antique figures
are totally void of all spirit of expression ; we are forced
to guess at their characters. Every artificial expres¬
sion requires, moreover, to be somewhat exaggerated.
A statue or portrait is an inanimate figure ; and must
therefore have a very different effect from one which,
being endowed with life, has the muscles constantly in
play, and where the continual change of the features,
the motion of the eyes, and the looks more or less lively,
easily and clearly express the passions and sentiments.
Whereas, in a figure, that is the produce of art, the de¬
licate touches, that should express the passions, are lost
to the eyes of the spectators: they must therefore be
struck by strong bold characters, which can affect
them at the first glance of the eye. A very moderate
artist is sensible, at the same time, that he is not to
give his figures extravagant expressions, or to place
them in distorted attitudes.
ANTIQUITY signifies time or ages past long ago.
Thus, we say, the heroes of antiquity, &c.
Antiquity is also used to denote the works or mo¬
numents of antiquity. See Antiquities".
Antiquity likewise expresses the great age of a
thing ; and in this sense we say, the antiquity of a fa¬
mily, the antiquity of a kingdom.
ANTIRRHINUM, Snap-miagon, or Calves
Snout. See Botany Index.
ANTIRRHIUM, in Ancient Geography, a promon¬
tory at the mouth of the Corinthian bay, where it is
scarce a mile broad, and where it separates TEtolia from
the Peloponnesus ; so called from its opposite situation
to Rhium in Peloponnesus (Pliny) : both are now call¬
ed the Dardanelles of Lepanto.
ANTISABBATARIANS, a modern religious sect
who oppose the observance of the Christian sabbath.
The great principle of the Antisabbatarians is, that the
Jewish sabbath was only of ceremonial, not moral obli¬
gation ; and consequently is abolished by the coming of
Christ.
ANTISAGOGE, in Rhetoric, a figure differing
little from that called concession. The following passage
from Cicero is an instance of it: Difjicilis ratio belli
gerendi ; at plenaJidei, plena pietatis: et si dicas,tnag-
nus labor, multa pericula proponuntur ; at gloria ex his
immortalis est consecutura. See Concession.
ANTISCII, in Geography, people who live on dif¬
ferent sides of the equator, whose shadows at noon are
projected opposite ways. Thus the people of the north
are Antiscii to those of the south : the one projecting
their shadows at noon towards the north pole, and the
other towards the south pole.
ANTISCORBUTICS, medicines good in scorbu¬
tic cases.
ANTISEPTICS (from and dittos, putrid, of
to putrefy}, an appellation given to such substances
as resist putrefaction.
We have some curious experiments in relation to an-
Vol. II. Part II. f
[ 441 ] ANT
tiseptic substances by Dr Pringle, who has ascertained Antigeptics.
their several virtues. ' Thus, in order to settle the an- y-—'
tiseptic virtue of salts, he compared it with that of
common sea salt; which being one of the weakest, he
supposes equal to unity, and expresses the proportional
strength of the rest by higher numbers, as in the fol¬
lowing table.
Salts, their antiseptic virtue.
Sea salt - I
Sal gemmce - 1 -f-
Tartar vitriolated 2
Spiritus Mindereri 2
Tartarus soluhilis 2
Sal diureticus - 24-
Crude sal ammonidc 3
Saline mixture
Nitre
Salt of hartshorn
Salt of wormwood
Borax
Salt of amber
Alum
3
4 +
4 +
4 +
I2+
2° +
3° +
In this table the proportions are marked in integral
numbers : only to some there is added the sign to
show, that those salts are possessed of a stronger anti¬
septic virtue than the number in the table expresses, by
some fractions : unless in the three last, where the same
sign imports that the salt may be stronger by some
units.
Some resinous and other substances even exceed the
antiseptic virtues of the neutral salts ; thus myrrh, asa-
foetida, terra japonica, and aloes, are at least 12 times
more antiseptic than sea salt. Two grains of cam¬
phor are equivalent to 60 grains of that salt. An in¬
fusion of a few grains of Virginian snake-root, in pow¬
der, exceeds 12 times its weight of sea salt. Chamo¬
mile flowers have nearly the same extraordinary quali¬
ty. The Jesuits bark has it also. Besides these, pep¬
per, ginger, saffron, contrayerva root, are 12 times
more antiseptic than sea salt. Dried sage, rhubarb,
the root of the wild valerian, mint, angelica, ground
ivy, senna, green tea, red roses, wormwood, mustard,
and horse radish, were likewise found more antiseptic
than the standard.
To the class of antiseptic medicines may likewise be
added fermented liquors, acids, spirits, and even those
plants called anti acids, and erroneously supposed hast-
eners of putrefaction, particularly horse radish. Now
vegetables, possessing this virtue, are the more valuable,
in that being usually free of acrimony, they may be
taken in much greater quantities than either spirits,
acids, resins, or even the neutral salts.
Antiseptics are prescribed in all putrid, malignant,
and pestilential cases. It is to be remarked, however,
that different kinds of them are to be given in different
diseases, and even in different stages of the same dis¬
ease. Thus, the bark is a specific in gangrene, when
the vessels are relaxed, and the blood resolved or dis¬
posed to putrefaction ; but will fail, if the vessels are
too full, or the blood be too thick. With the same
caution is the bark to be used in wounds, viz. chiefly in
cases of absorbed matter, when it infects the humours,
and brings on a hectic fever.
By the great antiseptic virtue of alum, the bark, and
other astringents, it should seem, that astriction had no
small share in the cure of putrid disorders ; and, in¬
deed, the very nature of putrefaction consists in a sepa¬
ration or disunion of the parts. But as astringents are
improper to be administered in many cases, contrayer-
3 K va
ANT [ 442 ] ANT
Antiseptics va root, snake root, camphor, &c. may supply their
II place j which, though highly antiseptic, have very
Antitaetse. or any, of an astringent quality.
’ ANTISPASMODICS, are medicines proper for
the cure of spasms and convulsions. Opium, balsam
of Peru, and the essential oils of many vegetables, are
the principal in this class of medicines. Opium ex¬
cels, for its immediate effects. Peruvian balsam, in
many instances, produces more lasting benefit than opi¬
um, and sometimes succeeds where opium fails. As
antispasmodics, the essential oils differ in this from
opium, that they act more on a particular part than on
the system in general, and have no soporific effect.
Some medicines remove spasms by immediate contact,
as asses milk, cream, oil of almonds •, others by repel¬
ling heat, as gas, sulphur, nitre, sal ammoniac, &c.
And where the strictures are produced by inanition
and a defect of vital heat, spasms are removed by those
medicines that restore the vis vitce, such as valerian,
castor, musk, &c.
ANTISTASIS, in Oratory, a defence of an action
from the consideration that, had it been omitted, worse
would have ensued. This is called by Latin writers
comparativum argumentum ; such, e. g. would be the
general’s defence who had made an inglorious capitu¬
lation, That, without it, the whole army must have
perished.
ANTISTHENES, a Greek philosopher, and found¬
er of the Cynics. He was born at Athens, and passed
the former part of his life as a soldier. Having after¬
wards been an attendant at the lectures of Socrates, he
was principally charmed with those exhortations of that
great philosopher, which persuaded to frugality, to tem¬
perance, and to moderation j these Antisthenes was re¬
solved to practise by carrying every precept to its ut¬
most extent. Permitting therefore his beard to grow,
he went about the streets in a thread-bare coat, scarcely
to be distinguished from a common beggar. He prided
himself upon the most rigid virtue, and thought himself
obliged to attack the vicious wherever he found them.
This gave him some reputation in the city 5 but it may
be supposed, that, in a place so very luxurious as A-
thens, he had more enemies than disciples. His phi¬
losophy consisted rather in action than speculation : it
was therefore his constant maxim, That to be virtuous
was to be happy, and that all virtue consisted in ac¬
tion ; that the wise man should live for himself, con¬
tented in all situations, and happy alone in the con¬
sciousness of his own virtue. He acknowledged no¬
thing to be good but what was honourable ; and assex*t-
ed, that virtue might be acquired by practice. Laer¬
tius tells us there were 10 tomes of his works j and he
has given us many of his apophthegms.
ANTISTOCHEON, in Grammar, the using one
letter instead of another : as olli for tl/i.
ANTISTROPHE, in Grammar, a figure by which
two things mutually depending on one another, are re¬
ciprocally converted j as, the servant of the master, the
master of the servant.
Antistrophe, among lyric poets, that part of a
song and dance in use among the ancients, which
was performed before the altar, in returning from
West to east j in opposition to strophe. See Strophe
and Ode.
ANTITACTAi, in church history, a branch of
3
Gnostics, who held, that God was good and just, but Antitactt
that a creature had created evil; and consequently j|
that it is our duty to oppose this author of evil, in order Anl}types.
to avenge God of his adversary.
ANTITHENAR, in Anatomy, a name given to
the adductor indicis. See Anatomy, Table of the
Muscles.
ANTITHESIS, in Rhetoric, a contrast or opposi¬
tion of words or sentiments. Such is that of Cicero,
in the second Catilinarian : “ On one side stands mo¬
desty, on the other impudence ; on one fidelity, on
the other deceit 5 here piety, there sacrilege 5 here
continency, there lust, &c.” Such also is that of Au¬
gustus to some seditious young men, Audite, juvenes,
senem, quem juvenem senes audivere. Such again is
that of Seneca : Cures Iceves loquuntur, ingentes stvpent.
And that of Virgil:
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.
St Augustine, Seneca, Salvian, and many other an¬
cient writers, seem greatly to affect antitheses ; but a-
mong the moderns they are generally decried. Desma-
retz represents them as the favourites of young writers.
The following is an example of modern antithesis.
———————Though gentle, yet not dull;
Strong, without rage ; without o’erflowing, full.
Antithesis is sometimes used for controversy. In
this sense, we meet with antithetic method, antithetic
discourses, &c. Marcion composed a volume of Anti¬
theses, or contrarieties and oppositions between the law
and the gospel.
ANTITRAGUS ivfuscui,us, in Anatomy, a muscle
of the ear. See Anatomy, Table of the Muscles.
ANTITRINITARIANS, those who deny the tri¬
nity, and teach that there are not three persons in the
Godhead. Thus the Samosatenians, who do not be¬
lieve the distinction of persons in God $ the Arians,
who deny the divinity of the Word, and the Macedo¬
nians, who deny that of the Holy Spirit, are all pro¬
perly Antitrinitarians. Among the moderns, Antitri-
nitarians are particularly understood of Socinians, call¬
ed also Unitarians.
The Bibliotheca Antitrinitariorum, or Anti trinitarian
Librarr/, is a posthumous work of Christopher Sandius,
an eminent Antitrinitarian ; wherein he gives a list,
digested in order of time, of all the Socinian or mo¬
dern Antitrinitarian authors, with a brief account of
their lives, and a catalogue of their works. See Uni¬
tarian.
ANTITV PE, a Greek word, properly signifying a
type or figure corresponding to some other type.
The word antitype occurs twice in the New Testa¬
ment } viz. in the epistle to the Hebrews, ix. 24. and
in St Peter, 1 Ep. iii. 21. where its genuine import
has been much controverted. The former says, that
“ Christ is not entered into the holy places made with
hands, which are, «vnTt»ar*, the figures or antitypes of
the true—now to appear, in the presence of Ged for
us.” Now rvjraj signifies the pattern by which another
thing is made ; and as Moses was obliged to make the
tabernacle, and all things in it, according to the pat¬
tern shown him in the mount, the tabernacle so form¬
ed was the antitype of what was shown to Moses : any
thing, therefore, formed according to a model or pat¬
tern,
ANT t 443 1 ANT
tern, is an antitype. In the latter passage, the apostle
speaking of Noah’s flood, and the deliverance only of
eight persons in the ark from it, says SI nett tpxs xvti~
rvTrov vvvntfyt fixTTTitrftx, Baptism being an antitype to
that, now saves us ; not putting away the filth of the
flesh, but the answer of a good conscience towards God,
Sfc. The meaning is, that righteousness, or the an¬
swer of a good conscience towards God, now saves us
by means of the resurrection of Christ, as formerly
righteousness saved these eight persons by means of the
ark, during the flood. The word antitype, therefore,
here signifies a general similitude of circumstances $
and the particle «, whereunto, refers, not to the im¬
mediate antecedent, vpxros, water, but to all that pre*
cedes.
Antitype, among the ancient Greek fathers, and
in the Greek liturgy, is also applied to the symbols of
bread and wine in the sacrament. Hence it hath been
argued, by many Protestants, that the Greeks,do not
really believe the doctrine of transubstantiation j be¬
cause they call the bread and wine antitypes, xvtitvttx,
q. d. figures, similitudes j and this even after the con¬
secration.
ANTRIM, in Ancient Geography, a city of the
Volsci, (Livy) $ situated on the Tuscan sea, yet with¬
out a harbour, because they had a neighbouring ham¬
let called Ceno, with a harbour, (Strabo). The Ro¬
mans gained their first reputation in naval affairs a-
gainst the Antiates ; part of whose ships they convey¬
ed into the arsenal of Rome, and part they burnt ; and
tvith their beaks or rostra adorned the pulpit erected
in the forum, thence called Rostra, (Livy, Floras).
Here stood a famous temple of Fortune, (Horace).
Addison says, there were two Fortunae worshipped at
Antium.—It is now extinct, but the name still remains
in the Capo d' Ansso.
ANT1VARI, a strong town of Turkey in Europe*
in Dalmatia, a Greek archbishop’s see, and subject to
the Turks. E. Long. 19. 15. N. Lat. 42. 20.
ANTIVIRGFLIAN husbandry, an appellation
given to Mr Tull’s new method of horse-hoeing hus¬
bandry. See Agriculture.
ANTLER, among sportsmen, a start or branch of
a deer’s attire.
Bi'ow Antler, denotes the branch next the head j
and,
Bes Antler, the branch next above the brow ant¬
ler.
ANTLIA, an ancient machine, supposed to be the
same with our pump. Hence the phrase inantliam con-
demnari, according to the critics, denotes a kind of pu¬
nishment whereby criminals were condemned to drain
ponds, ditches, or the like.
ANTOEICI, in Geography, those inhabitants of the
earth who live under the same meridian, and at the
same distance from the equator : the one toward the
north, and the other toward the south. Hence they
have the same longitude : and their latitude is also the
same, but of a different denomination. They are in the
same semicircle of the meridian, but in opposite paral¬
lels. They have precisely the same hours of the day
and night, but opposite seasons ; and the night of the
one is always equal to the day of the other.
ANTOINE, a town of France, in Dauphiny, in
the diocese of Vienne, with a celebrated abbey. It is
seated among the mountains, 13 miles east of Lyons. Antoine
E. Long. 5. 20. N. Lat. 45. 43. 11
ANTONA, (Tacitus) ; a river of Britain, which Anton‘^es
Camden supposes to be a faulty reading for Avuona or
Aufona, (the Avon).
ANTONACUM, Antonnacum, or Antunnacum,
a town of the Treviri j now Andernach, below Cob-
lentz. E. Long. 7. 5. N. Lat. 50. 25.
ANTONIA, a citadel of Jerusalem, the origin of
which we have in Josephus : who says, that Hircanus,
the first high-priest of that name, built Baris near the
temple, a house with turrets, where he generally re¬
sided. Herod afterwards made it stronger, for the se¬
curity and defence of the temple j and in honour of
Mark Antony, who then commanded in the east, called
it Antonia. It was very extensive, and could accom¬
modate a Roman legion : from it there was a full view
of the temple.
Antonia, Saint, a town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Lot and Garonne, and in the diocese of Rhodez,
whose fortifications are demolished. It is seated on the
river Aveiron. E. Long. o. 55. N. Lat. 44. 10.
ANTONIAN waters, medicinal waters of Ger¬
many, very pleasant to the taste, and esteemed good in
many chronic and hypochondriac cases. See Tons-
TEIN.
ANTONIANO, Silvio, a man of great learning,
who raised himself from a low condition by his merit,
was born at Rome in the year 1540. When he was but
ten years old, he could make verses upon any subject
proposed to him ; and these so excellent, though pro¬
nounced extempore, that even a man of genius could nut
compose the like without a good deal of time and pains.
The duke of Ferrara coming to Rome, to congratulate
Marcellus II. upon his being raised to the pontificate,
was so charmed with the genius of Antoniano, that he
carried him to Ferrara, where he provided able masters
to instruct him in all the sciences. From thence he was
sent for by Pius IV. who made him professor of the
belles lettres in the college at Rome. Antoniano filled
this place with so much reputation, that, on the day
when he began to explain the oration, yjro Marco Mar¬
cello, he had a vast crowd of auditors, and among these
no less than 25 cardinals. He was afterwards chosen
rector of the college and after the death of Pius IV.
being seized with a spirit of devotion, he joined himself
to Philip Neri, and accepted the office of secretary to
the sacred college, offered him by Pius V. which he
executed for 25 years with the reputation of an honest
and able man. He refused a bishopric which Grego¬
ry XIV. would have given him; but he accepted the
office of secretary to the briefs, offered him by Cle¬
ment VIII. who made him his chamberlain, and after¬
wards a cardinal. Antoniano killed himself by too
great fatigue: for he spent whole nights in writing
letters *, which brought on a sickness, whereof he died,
in the 63d year of his age. He ivrote with such ease
and fluency, that he never almost made any blot or
rasure ; and it is said of him, that he preserved the
flower of his virginity during his whole life.
ANTONIDES Vander Goes, John, an eminent
Dutch poet, born at Goes in Zealand, the 3d of April
1647. parents were Anabaptists, people of good
character, but of low circumstances. They went to live
at Amsterdam when Antonides was about four years
3 K 2 old }
ANT [ 444 ] ANT
Antonides, old } and, in the ninth year of his age, he began his stu-
Antonimis. dies, under the direction of Hadrian Junius and James
*Cocceius. Antonides took great pleasure in reading
the Latin poets, and carefully compared them with
Grotius, Heinsius, &c. By this means he acquired a
taste for poetry, and enriched his mind with noble
ideas. He first attempted to translate some pieces of
Ovid, Horace, and other ancients; and, having form¬
ed his taste on these excellent models, he at length
undertook one of the most difficult tasks in poetry, to
write a tragedy: This was entitled Trwzil, or, The in¬
vasion of China. Antonides, however, was so modest,
as not to permit it to he published. Vondel, who was
then engaged in a dramatic piece, which was taken
also from some event that happened in China, read An-
tonides’s tragedy *, and was so well pleased with it, that
he declared, if the author would not print it, he would
take some passages out of it, and make use of them in
his own tragedy. He accordingly did so ; and it was
reckoned much to the honour of Antonides, to have
written what might be adopted by so great a poet as
Vondel was acknowledged to be by all good judges.
Upon the conclusion of the peace between Great Bri¬
tain and Holland, in the year 1674, Antonides wrote
a piece, entitled Bellona aan band, i. e. “ Bellona
chained j” a very elegant poem, consisting of several
hundred verses. He next wrote an ingenious heroic
poem, which he entitled The River ¥ (the river on
which Amsterdam is built).
Antonides’s parents had bred him up an apothecary ;
but his remarkable genius for poetry soon gained him
the esteem and friendship of several persons of distinc¬
tion $ and particularly of Mr Buisero, one of the lords
of the admiralty at Amsterdam, and a great lover of
poetry, who sent him at his expence to pursue his stu¬
dies at Leyden, where he remained till he took his de¬
gree of doctor of physic, and then his patron gave him
a place in the admiralty. In 1678, Antonides married
Susanna Bermans, a minister’s daughter, who had also
a talent for poetry. His marriage was celebrated by
several eminent poets, particularly by the famous Pe¬
ter Francius, professor of eloquence, who composed
some Latin verses on the occasion. After marriage, he
did not much indulge his poetic genius j and within a
few years he fell into a consumption, of which he died
on the 18th September 1684, being then but th'rtv-
seven years and a few months old. He is esteemed the
most eminent Dutch poet after Vondel. His works
have been printed several times, having been collected
by Father Antony Tansz. The last edition was
printed by Nicholas Ten Hoorn, at Amsterdam, in
the year ijifa in 4fo, under the direction of David
Van Hoogstraaten, one of the masters of the Latin
school of that city, who added to it also the life of the
poet.
ANTONINUS Pius, a celebrated Homan em¬
peror, was born A. D. 86, at Lanuvium in Italy.
Distinguished for eminence of character, his family
had long maintained the honour of the house of Nismes
in Gaul, from whence they had descended. Both
his father and grandfather had held the office of con¬
sul. Arius Antoninus, his maternal grandfather, by
his amiable disposition and love of literature, had ac¬
quired an esiinent character, and was very intimate
with Pliny the younger. Under him the young Titus
2
after his father’s death completed his education. His Antoninus
character on arriving at the age of maturity, manifest-
ed itself in the most promising manner. To an improved
understanding, a virtuous heart, a mild and dignified
character, and a noble eloquence, he joined a happy
physiognomy. Simple in his taste, and guided by tem¬
perance in all his actions and sentiments, he was entire¬
ly free from all affectation and pomposity.
In the year 120, among the many public honours
which his birth and connexions gave him a claim to,
he was elevated to the high post of consul, and was af¬
terwards appointed by Adrian to he one of the four
consulars, betwixt whom the supreme power of Italy
was divided. Becoming in his turn proconsul of Asia,
he acquitted himself with such reputation that he even
excelled his grandfather Arius who had formerly en¬
joyed that high trust. Returning from Asia he was not
only received into the favour, but likewise the confi¬
dence and council of Adrian, and was always disposed
to act with lenity. He married Annia Faustina, the
daughter of Annius Verus, whose character was far
from being untaxed with reproach •, but his lenient dis¬
position induced him to avoid public scandal, and he
behaved towards his aged father-in-law with the most
becoming respect. Two sons and two daughters were
the fruits of this marriage. The sons died when they
were young, and the eldest daughter, who w'as married
to Lamia Sylvanus, died when Titus proceeded towards
his Asiatic government. Faustina the youngest married
Marcus Aurelius, who was afterwards emperor.
After the death of Verus, Adrian resolving to adopt
Antoninus, he was induced to accept of the succession
to so important a charge as the Roman empire, although
with a considerable degree of reluctance, and was ac¬
cordingly nominated by Adrian in February 25. A. D.
138, in the presence of the council of the chief senators,
who at the same time created him his colleague in per¬
forming the proconsular and tribunitial duties. Extend¬
ing his plans of adoption still farther, Adrian caused
Antoninus adopt the son of Verus, then seven years of
age, and Marcus Annius, afterwaids named Aurelius,
then seventeen years of age, a relation of Adrian’s,
and nephew to his own wife. The dutiful and merited
attention which Antoninus bestowed on Adrian during
the last months of his illness, gives a very high idea of
his character. On July 10. A. D. 138, he succeeded
to the empire amidst the universal acclamations of the
senate and people, who anticipated in his well tried vir¬
tues that happiness which a good and wise sovereign is
able to bestow upon his subjects.
The Roman world enjoyed such tranquillity under
his reign that it affords few materials for history j yet
it is to be regretted that Capitolinus is the only histo¬
rian from whom any direct information can be received
concerning this peaceful period, and he is none of the
most perspicuous. It however appears that the usual
honours and titles, together with the addition of the sur¬
name of Pius, which both his conduct and zeal in de¬
fending and honouring the memory of his predecessor
united to suggest, were willingly conferred upon him
by the senate. In the beginning of his reign there
were several conspiracies formed against him, but this
only afforded him an instance of signalizing his clemen¬
cy, which he did in the most striking manner. Although
he was unable to prevent justice from taking its due
course
ANT [ 445 1 ANT
irtoninus. course against the ringleaders, he prohibited all investi-
—-v—' gation after their accomplices, and took the son of At-
tilius, one of the principal conspirators, under his protec¬
tion. Various commotions were raised in several parts of
the empire', but by the vigilance of his lieutenants, these
were easily quelled. The incursions of the Brigantes
in Britain were restrained, and a new wall which was
built to the north of that of Adrian, from the mouth
of the Esk to that of Tweed, and which was called the
JFall of Antoninus, was fixed as the boundary of the Ro¬
man province in Britain. The reign of Antoninus upon
the whole was singularly peaceful, and realized a say¬
ing of Scipio, “That he preferred saving the life of
one citizen, to destroying a thousand enemies.”
A desire of promoting the interest of his people, of
protecting them from oppression, of administering justice
through every corner of the realm, and of being instru¬
mental to the happiness and peace of his government,
influenced all his proceedings. He delighted greatly
in laying before the senate the motives of all his actions $
and in his manner of living and conversing he employ¬
ed the same prudential economy and air of equality,
which had so distinguished his predecessors Trajan and
Adrian. On account of the sweetness of his temper he
bore with firmness many indignities offered him j and
under his reign the race of informers was entirely ex¬
tinguished, and condemnations and confiscations were
very rare. The various public calamities which occur¬
red in his time were all relieved by him with the great¬
est benevolence. He avoided as much as possible lay¬
ing any burthens upon his people, and on this account
made few journeys through his dominions. He was
frugal in the use of the public revenues, but profuse in
his own patrimony, a great economist, devoid of ava¬
rice, and very liberal towards works of ornament and
utility, and even towards gratifying the pleasure of his
people. A temple in honour of Adrian in Rome, and
perhaps the amphitheatre and aqueduct at Nismes, were
his chief buildings.
Jurisprudence was to this emperor, like that of his
predecessor, an interesting subject for improvement-, and
several decrees which he issued, display his commend¬
able spirit of equity. The natural consequence of this
equity was, that Antoninus acquired a reputation and
fame which no military atchievements could have con¬
ferred ; and his friendship was courted by the neigh¬
bouring princes.
There is scarcely a blot to be found to tarnish his
character-, and frugality, modesty, and harmless amuse¬
ment continued to employ his private hours. It may
perhaps be admitted that he was too indulgent towards
an unworthy wife, and that the divine honours he be¬
stowed on her memory were not merited by her conduct.
In the management of his complicated business, he was
exact to such a degree that it was even ridiculed by some j
but he found the daily advantage of this accuracy. The
growing virtue of Marcus Aurelius soon drew his atten¬
tion after he ascended the throne, and having given him
his daughter in marriage, he declared him Coesar. Nor
was he mistaken in his choice j for Aurelius acted with
the utmost fidelity and affection amid all the honours that Antoninm.
he continued to confer upon him. Enjoying this large —y——'
share of domestic bliss, in the 74^1 year h*s h®
was seized with a fever at his favourite country seat of
Lori. Convinced of his approaching fate, he convened
the principal officers of the state, and confirmed his
election of Aurelius, and gave him the imperial ensigns.
A delirium ensued, in an interval of which he gave the
watchword fiLquanimitas, and calmly resigned his breath
in the 23d year of his reign. His ashes were consigned
to the tomb of Adrian, and divine honours paid to
his memory. He was universally regretted, and suc¬
ceeding emperors bore his name as a badge of honour.
The senate and his successor erected a sculptured pillar
to his memory, which is still shown to strangers as one
of the chief ornaments of Rome. (Gen. Biog.).
Antoninus Philosophus, Marcus Aurelius, the
Roman emperor, born at Rome, the 26th of April,
in the 121st year of the Christian era. He was called
by several names till he was admitted into the Aure-
lian family, when he took that of Marcus Aurelius
Antoninus. Hadrian, upon the death of Cejonius Corn-
modus, turned his eyes upon Marcus Aurelius 5 but, as
he was not then 18 years of age, and consequently too
young for so important a station, he fixed upon Anto¬
ninus Pius, whom he adopted, upon condition that he
should likewise adopt Marcus Aurelius. The year after
this adoption, Hadrian appointed him questor, though
he had not yet attained the age prescribed by the law.
After the death of Hadrian, Aurelius married Fausti¬
na, the daughter of Antoninus Pius, by whom he had
several children. In the year 1391 h® was invested with
new honours by the emperor Pius, in which he behav¬
ed in such a manner as endeared him to that prince and
the whole people.
Upon the death of Pius, which happened in the year
161, lie was obliged by the senate to take upon him
the government ; in the management of which he took
Lucius Verus as his colleague. Dion Cassius says, that
the reason of doing this was, that he might have leisure
to pursue his studies, and on account of his ill state of
health j Lucius being of a strong vigorous constitution,
and consequently more fit for the fatigues of war. Ihe
same day he took upon him the name of Antoninus,
which he gave likewise to Verus his colleague, and be¬
trothed his daughter Lucilla to him. The two empe¬
rors went afterwards to the camp •, where, after having
performed the funeral rites of Pius, they pronounced
each of them a panegyric to his memory. They dis- •
charged the government in a very amicable manner.
It is said that, soon after Antoninus had performed the
apotheosis of Pius, petitions were presented to him by
the Pagan priests, philosophers, and governors of pro¬
vinces, in order to excite him to persecute the Chri¬
stians ; fvhich he rejected with indignation, and inter¬
posed his authority for their protection, by writing a
letter to the common assembly of Asia, then held at
Ephesus (a). The happiness which the empire began
to enjoy under these two emperors was interrupted, ir*
the year 162, by a dreadful inundation of the Jiber,
which
(a) Eusebius has preserved this letter, Hist. Eccles. lib. iv. cap. 13. but he falsely ascribes it to Antoninus
Pius, whereas it was wrote by Marcus Antoninus, as Valerius makes it appear in his annotations on Eusebius,
ANT
[ 446 ] ANT
Antaninui which destroyed a vast number of cattle, and occasioned
—   a famine at Rome. This calamity was followed by the
Parthian war ^ and at the same time the Catti ravaged
Germany and Rhsetia. Lucius Verus went in person
to oppose the Parthians j and Antoninus continued at
Rome, where his presence was necessary.
During this war with the Parthians, about the year
163 or 164, Antoninus sent his daughter Lucilla to
Verus, she having been betrothed to him in marriage,
and attended her as far as Brundusium: he intended to
have conducted her to Syria; but it having been insi¬
nuated by some persons, that his design of going into
the east was to claim the honour of having finished the
Parthian war, he returned to Rome, lire Romans
having gained a victory over the Parthians, who were
obliged to abandon Mesopotamia, the two emperors
triumphed over them at Rome in the year 166 $ and
were honoured with the title of Fathers of their coun¬
try. This year was fatal, on account of a terrible pesti¬
lence which spread itself over the whole world, and a
iamine under which Rome laboured : it was likewise
in this year that the Marcomanni, and many other peo¬
ple of Germany, took up arms against the Romans;
but the two emperors having marched in person against
them, obliged the Germans to sue for peace. The war,
however, was renewed the year following, and the two
emperors marched again in person ; but Lucius Verus
was seized with an apoplectic fit, and died at Altinum.
The Romans were now defeated with great slaughter}
and the emperor, not choosing to burden his subjects
with new taxes, exposed to sale the furniture of the pa¬
lace, the gold and silver plate belonging to the crown,
and his wife’s rich garments embroidered with gold,
and a curious collection of pearls, which Adrian had
purchased during his long progress through the provinces
of the empire, and was called Adrian's cabinet.
In the year 170, Antoninus made vast preparatinns
against the Germans, and carried on the war with great
vigour. During this war, in 174, a very extraordinary
event is said to have happened, which, according to
Dion Cassius, was as follows : Antoninus’s army being
blocked up by the Quadi, in a very disadvantageous
place, where there was no possibility of procuring wa¬
ter } in this situation, being worn out with fatigue and
wounds, oppressed with heat and thirst, and incapable
of retiring or engaging the enemy, in an instant the
sky was covered with clouds, and there fell a vast
quantity of rain : the Roman army wrere about to
quench their thirst, when the enemy came upon them
with such fury, that they must certainly have been de¬
feated, had it not been for a shower of hail, accompa¬
nied with a storm of thunder and lightning, which fell
upon the enemy, without the least annoyance to the Antoninne,
Romans, who by this means gained the victory (b). y—
In 175, Antoninus made a treaty with several nations
of Germany. Soon after, Avidius Cassius, governor
of Syria, revolted from the emperor : this insurrection,
however, was put an end to by the death of Cassius,
who was killed by a centurion named Anthony. An¬
toninus behaved with great lenity towards those who
had been engaged in Cassius’s party } he would not
put to death, nor imprison, nor even sit in judgment
himself upon any of the senators engaged in this re¬
volt } but he referred them to the senate, fixing a day
for their appearance, as if it had been only a civil affair.
He wrote also to the senate, desiring them to act with
indulgence rather than severity ; nor to shed the blood
of any senator or person of quality, or of any other per¬
son whatsoever} but to allow this honour to his reign,
that, even under the misfortune of a rebellion, none
had lost their lives, except in the first heat of the tu¬
mult. Ini76, Antoninus visited Syria and Egypt:
the kings of those countries, and ambassadors also from
Parthia, came to visit him. He staid several days at
Smyrna } and, after he had settled the affairs of the
east, went to Athens, on which city he conferred seve¬
ral honours, and appointed public professors there.
From thence he returned to Rome with his son Com-
modus, whom he chose consul for the year following,
though he was then but 16 years of age, having obtain¬
ed a dispensation for that purpose. On the 27th of
September, the same year, he gave him the title of
Imperator; and on the 23d of December, he entered
Rome in triumph, with Commodus, on account of the
victories gained over the Germans. Dion Cassius tells
us, that he. remitted all the debts which were due to
himself and the public treasury during 46 years, from
the time that Hadrian had granted the same favour,
and burnt all the writings relating to these debts. He
applied himself likewise to correct many enormities,
and introduced several excellent regulations. In the
year 179, he left Rome with his son Commodus, in
order to go against the Marcomanni, and other bar¬
barous nations} and the year following gained a consi¬
derable victory over them, and would, in all probabi¬
lity, have entirely subdued them in a very short time,
had he not been taken with an illness, which carried
him off on the 17th of March 180, in the 59th year of
his age, and 19th of his reign. The whole empire re¬
gretted the loss of so valuable a prince, and paid the
greatest regard to his memory : he was ranked amongst
the gods, and almost every person had a statue of him
in their houses. His book of meditations has been
much admired by the best judges.
Antonins's
(b) The Pagans, as w'ell as Christians, according to Mr Tillement (p. 621. art xvi.), have acknowledged the
truth of this prodigy, but have greatly differed as to the cause of such a miraculous event} the former ascribing
it, some to one magician and some to another: In Antoninus’s pillar, the glory is ascribed to Jupiter, the god of
rain and thunder. But the Christians affirmed, that God granted this favour at the prayer of the Christian sol¬
diers in the Roman army, who are said to have composed the twelfth or Melitene legion } and, as a mark of dis¬
tinction, we are told that they received the title of the Thundering legion, from Antoninus (Euseb. Eccles. Hist,
lib. v. cap. 5.). Mr Moyle, in the letters published in the second volume of his works, has endeavoured to ex¬
plode this story of the Thundering Legion } which occasioned Mr Whiston to publish an answer, in 1726, en¬
titled, Of the Thundering Legion; or, Of the miraculous deliverance of Marcus Antoninus and his army, upon
the prayers of the Christians*
intoninos.
ANT [
Axtoxine's Column. See Column.
__ , Antoninus's IFall, the name of the third rampart or
defence that had been built or repaired by the Romans
against the incursions of the North Britons. It is called
by the people in the neighbourhood, Graham's Dyke ;
from the notion that one Graham, or Grimus, first made
a breach in it after the retreat of the Ramans out of
Britain. The first barrier erected by the Romans was
‘See^lgri-the chain of forts made by Agricola* from the frith of
oia. Forth to that of Clyde, in the year 81, to protect his
conquest from the inroads of the Caledonians. The
See4dri-seconcl was the vallum, or dyke, flung up by Adrian f
n" in the year 121. It terminated on the western side of
the kingdom at Axelodunum, or Brugh, on the Solway
sands, and was supposed to have reached no further
than Pons JEHi, or Newcastle, on the eastern. But from
an inscription lately discovered, it appears to have ex-
See tended as far as the wall of Severus J. This rampart
of Adrian’s was situated much farther south than A-
gricola’s chain ; the country to the north having been
either, according to some authors, recovered by the
native Britons after the departure of Agricola ; or,
according to others, voluntarily slighted by Adrian.
However, this work of Adrian’s did not long continue
to be the extreme boundary of the Roman territories
to the north in Britain. For Antoninus Pius, the
adopted son and immediate successor of Adrian, hav¬
ing, by his lieutenant Lollius Urbicus, recovered the
country once conquered by Agricola, commanded ano¬
ther rampart to be erected between the friths of Forth
and Clyde, in the track where Agricola had formerly
built his chain of forts. The great number of inscrip¬
tions which have been found in or near the ruins of
this wall, or rampart, to the honour of Antoninus Pius,
leave us no room to doubt its having been built by his
direction and command. If the fragment of a Roman
pillar with an inscription, now in the college library of
Edinburgh, belonged to this work, as it is generally
supposed to have done, it fixes the date of its execution
to the third consulship of Antoninus, which was A. I).
140, only 20 years after that of Adrian, of which this
seems to have been an imitation. This wall or ram¬
part, as some imagine, reached from Caer-ridden on
the frith of Forth to Old Kirkpatrick on the Clyde j
or, as others think, from Kinniel on the east to Dun-
glass on the west. These different suppositions hardly
make a mile of difference in the length of this work,
which, from several actual mensurations, appears to
have been 37 English or 40 Roman miles. Capitoli-
nus, in his life of Antoninus Pius, directly affirms, that
the wall which that emperor built in Britain was of
turf. This in the main is unquestionably true ; though
it is evident (from the vestiges of it still remaining,
which not very many years ago were dug up and ex¬
amined for near a mile together) that the foundation
was of stone. Mr Camden also tells us, from the pa¬
pers of one Mr Anthony Pont, that the principal ram¬
part was faced with square stone, to prevent the earth
from falling into the ditch. The chief parts of this
work were as follows : 1. A broad and deep ditch,
whose dimensions cannot now be discovered with cer¬
tainty and exactness, though Mr Pont says, it was 12
feet wide. 2. The principal wall or rampart was about
12 feet thick at the foundation, but its original height
cannot now be determined. This wall was situated on
447 ] A N T ..
the south brink of the ditch. 3. A military way on Antoninus,
the south side of the principal wall, well paved, and ' \r *
raised a little above the level or the ground. Ibis
work, as well as that of Adrian, was defended by gar¬
risons placed in forts and stations along the line ot it.
The number of these forts or stations, whose vestiges
were visible in Mr Pont’s time, was 18, situated at
about the distance of two miles from each other. In
the intervals between the forts, there were turrets or
watch towers. But the number of these, and their di¬
stance from each other, cannot now be discovered.
It is not a little surprising, that though it is now
more than 1600 years since this work was finished, and
more than 1300 since it was slighted, we can yet dis¬
cover from authentic monuments, which are still re¬
maining, by what particular bodies of Roman troops
almost every part of it was executed. I his discovery
is made from inscriptions upon stones, which were ori¬
ginally built into the face of the wall, and have been
found in or near its ruins, and are carefully preserved.
The number of stones with inscriptions of this kind now
extant, is 11 : of which six may be seen at one view in
the college of Glasgow, one in the college ot Abei-
deen, one in the college ot Edinburgh, one in the col¬
lection of Baron Clerk, one at Cochnoch house, and
one at Calder house. From these inscriptions it ap¬
pears in general, that this great work was executed by
the second legion, the vexillations of the sixth legion
and of the twentieth legion, and one cohort of auxilia¬
ries, If these corps were all complete, they would
make in all a body ol 7800 men. Some of these in¬
scriptions have suffered greatly by the injuries of time
and other accidents j se that we cannot discover from
them, with absolute certainty, how many paces ot this
work were executed by each of these bodies of troops.
The sum of the certain and probable information con¬
tained in these inscriptions, as it is collected by the
learned and illustrious Mr Horsley, stands thus:
Paces.
The second legion built - - - 11 >603
The vexillation of the sixth legion - 7411
The vexillation of the twentieth legion - 7^01
All certain - * 26,815
The vexillation of the twentieth legion, the mo¬
nument certain, and the number probable 341 1
The same vexillation, on a plain monument, no
number visible, supposed - - - 3500
The sixth legion, a monument, but no number,
supposed - 3000
Cohors prima Cugernorum - - 300P
Total 39,726
or 39 miles 726 paces, nearly the whole length of the
wall. It would have been both useful and agreeable to
have known how long time these troops were employ¬
ed in the execution of this great work. But of this
we have no information. Neither do we know what
particular bodies of troops were in garrison in the se¬
veral forts and stations along the line of this wall, be¬
cause these garrisons were withdrawn before the 1 ott~
tia Imperii was written.
Though we cannot discover exactly how many years
ANT [ 448 ] ANT
Antonio, tills wall of tlie emperor Antonlus continued to be
'■*—v—■the boundary of the Roman territories in Britain, yet
we know with certainty that it was not very long. lor
we are told by an author of undoubted credit, that, in
Dio 1. 72, the reign of Commodus, A. D. 180, “ he had wars
p. So2. with several foreign nations, but none so dangerous as
that of Britain. For the people of the island, having
passed the wall which divided them from the Romans,
attacked them, and cut them to pieces.”
ANTONIO, Nicholas, knight of the order of St
James and canon of Seville, did great honour to the
Spanish nation by his Bibliotheque of their writers.
He was born at Seville in 1617, being the son of a
gentleman whom King Philip IV. made president of
the admiralty established in that city in 1626. After
having gone through a course of philosophy and divi¬
nity in his own country, he went to study law at Sala¬
manca ; where he closely attended the lectures of Fran¬
cisco Ramos del Manzano, afterwards counsellor to the
king and preceptor to Charles II. Upon his return to
Seville, after he had finished his law studies at Sala¬
manca, he shut himself up in the royal monastery of
Benedictines, where he employed himself several years
in writing his Bibliotheca Hispanica, having the use of
the books of Bennet de la Sana, abbot of that mona¬
stery and dean ol the faculty of divinity at Salamanca.
In the year 1659, h® was sent to Pome by King Phi¬
lip IV. in the character of agent general from the
prince: he had also particular commissions from the
inquisition of Spain, the viceroys of Naples and Sicily,
and the governor of Milan, to negotiate their affairs at
Rome. I he cardinal of Arragon procured him, from
Pope Alexander VII. a canonry in the church of Se¬
ville, the income whereof he employed in charity and
purchasing of bodks j he had above 3^>c,00 volumes in
his library. By this help, joined to continual labour,
and indefatigable application, he was at last enabled to
finish his Bibliotheca Hispanica, in four volumes in
folio, two of which he published at Rome in the year
1672. 1 he work consists of two parts j the one con¬
taining the Spanish writers who flourished before the
35th century, and the other those since the end of that
century. After the publication of these two volumes,
he was recalled to Madrid by King Charles II. to take
upon him the office of counsellor to the crusade ; which
he discharged with great integrity till his death, which
happened in 1684. He left nothing at his death but
his vast library, which he had brought from Rome to
Madnd; and his two brothers and nephews being un¬
able to publish the remaining volumes of his Biblio¬
theca, sent them to Cardinal d’Aguisne, who paid the
charge of the impression, and committed the care there¬
of to Monsieur Martin, his librarian, who added notes
to them in the name of the cardinal.
Antonio, Sr one of the Cape de Verd islands
lying in E. Long. o. 26. N. Lat. 18. 10. It is se!
parated from St Vincent’s by a clear navigable chan¬
nel two leagues in breadth. On the north side it has a
good road for shipping, with a collection of fresh wa¬
ter rising from springs, which, however, scarcely merits
the name of a pond. rI he island stretches from north¬
east to south-west, and is filled with mountains j one of
which is of so extraordinary a height, as to be compa¬
red with the Peak of Teneriffe : Its top is constantly
covered with snow, and, notwithstanding the clearness
of the sky, is generally hid in clouds. Here are pro- Allloni(,
duced a variety of fruits $ oranges, lemons, palms, me- Antoniu*.
Ions, &c. and some sugar canes. The potatoes and •y"—
ftielons are particularly excellent, and are much sought
after by mariners. But notwithstanding all this plen¬
ty, the inhabitants live in the most wretched poverty.
They are in number about 500, chiefly negroes, un-
derjhe protection of the Portuguese, whose language
they speak, and imitate their manners. To the north¬
west stands a village, containing about twenty huts ;
and at least 50 families, under the direction of a go¬
vernor, or, as they call him, a captain, a priest, and a
schoolmaster.
Antonio, St, a Dutch fort in Axim, on the Gold
coast of Africa. It stands on a high rock, which pro¬
jects into the sea in form of a peninsula ; and is so en¬
vironed by rocks and dangerous shoals, as to be inac¬
cessible to an enemy but by land, where it is fortified
by a parapet, drawbridge, and two batteries of heavy
cannon. Besides this it has a battery towards the sea.
The three batteries consist of 24 cannon. Its form is
triangular j the building is neat, strong, and commo¬
dious for the extent, that being but small, on account
of the narrowness of the rock on which it is built. The
garrison is usually composed of 25 white men, and an
equal number of negroes, under the command of a Ser¬
jeant. It is maintained at the expence of the West
India Company j and when well stored with provisions,
is capable ol making a long defence against any num¬
ber of negroes. It is, however, as well as all other forts
on this coast, liable to inconveniences from the heavy
and continual rains, which damage the walls, and ren¬
der frequent, reparations necessary. This obliges the
Dutch always to keep ready a quantity of lime or ce¬
ment made of calcined oyster shells, of which the coast
produces great numbers. I his settlement was first
founded^ by the Portuguese during the reign of Ema-
nuek They fixed it first upon a small point ; where,
finding themselves insecure, they built the fort where it
now stands. They were driven out by the Dutch in
1641 '■) and upon the conclusion of a peace with the
States General, the fort remained by treaty in the hands
of the Dutch West India Company, who have kept
possession of it ever since.
w^Tl°^UjS» Marcus, a famous Roman orator.
AVhile he filled the office of praetor, Sicily fell to his
lot, and he cleared the seas of the pirates which infest¬
ed that coast. He was made consul with A. Posthumi-
us Albums, in the year of Rome 653 ; when he oppos¬
ed the turbulent designs of Sextus Titus, tribune of
the people, with great resolution and success. Some
time after, he was made governor of Cilicia, in quality
of proconsul j where he performed so many great ex¬
ploits, that he obtained the honour of a triumph. We
cannot omit observing, that in order to improve his
great talent for eloquence, he became a scholar to the
greatest men at Rhodes and Athens, in his way to Ci¬
licia, and when on his return to Rome. Soon after he
was appointed censor j which office he discharged with
great reputation, having carried his cause before the
people, against Marcus Duronius, who had preferred
an accusation of bribery against him, in revenge for
Antonius’s having erased his name out of the list of
senators, which this wise censor had done, because Du-
romus, when tribune of the people, had abrogated a
law
ANT [ 449 ] A • N T
utonius* law which restrained immoderate expence in feasts. He
was one of the greatest orators ever known at Rome j
and it was owing to him, according to the testimony of
Cicero, that Rome might boast herself a rival even to
Greece itself in the art of eloquence. He defended,
amongst many others, Marcus Aquilius; and moved
the judges in so sensible a manner, by the tears he shed,
and the scars he showed upon the breast of his client,
that he carried his cause. He never would publish any
of his pleadings, that he might not, as he said, be
proved to say in one cause, what might be contrary to
what he should advance in another. He affected to be
a man of no learning. His modesty, and many other
qualifications, rendered him no less dear to many per¬
sons of distinction, than his eloquence made him uni¬
versally admired. He was unfortunately killed during
those bloody confusions raised at Rome by Marius and
Cinna. He was discovered in the place where he had
hid himself, and soldiers were sent to dispatch him :
but his manner of addressing them had such an effect,
that none but he who commanded them, and had not
heard his discourse, had the cruelty to kill him. His
head was exposed before the rostra, a place which he
had adorned with his triumphal spoils. This happened
90 years before the Christian era.
Antonius, Marcus, the triumvir, grandson to the
former, was very handsome in bis youth ; for which
reason he was greatly beloved by Curio, a senator, who
by carrying him about in all his debaucheries, made him
contract such heavy debts, that his own father forbade
him his house. Curio, however, was so generous as to
bail him for 250 talents. When the civil war broke
out, Curio took Ccesar’s party, and prevailed with An¬
tonius to do the same $ for which he was made a trU
bune of the people, and in that office did Caesar great
service. Caesar having made himself master of Rome,
gave Antonius the government of Italy: At the battle
of Pharsalia, Caesar confided so much in him, that he
gave him the command of the left wing of his army,
whilst he himself led the right. After Caesar was made
dictator he made Antonius general of the horse, though
he had never been praetor; in which command he ex¬
erted his power with the utmost violence. He was made
consul, when Caesar enjoyed that honour for the fifth
time, the last year of that usurper’s life. On Caesar’s
death, he harangued the populace with great art, and
raised their fury against his murderers ; flattering him¬
self that he should easily get into the place which Cae¬
sar had filled ; but his haughty behaviour made him
lose all the advantages his affected concern for Caesar
had gained him. His ill treatment of Octavius, and
quarrel with him, produced another civil war j which
ended in an accommodation between him, Octavius, and
Lepidus, fatal to the peace of Rome. They agreed to
share the supreme power among them ; and many of the
most illustrious Romans were sacrificed by proscription
to cement this bloody league, which is known by the
name of the Second Triumvirate. But the triumvirs
were too ambitious, and hated one another too much,
to be long united. Antonius went into Asia to raise
money for his soldiers : during his absence, Fulvia his
wife quarrelled with Octavius. When Antonius was in
Asia, indulging himself in all manner of luxury, the
famous Cleopatra inspired him with the most violent
passion. Hearing of the quarrel between Fulvia and
Vol. II. Part IL f
Octavius, and finding Octavius was become publicly his Autonius
enemy, Antonius entered into a confederacy with Sex-
tus Pompeius, who was still master of Sicily. He then Antrim.
went into Italy, in order to fight Octavius j but Fulvia,
who had been the author and promoter of this war,
dying, Octavius and Antonius came to an agreement.
One of the conditions of this new peace was, that they
should together attack Pompey, though the former had
lately made an alliance with him. Antonius then mar¬
ried Octavia, sister of Octavius, as a pledge of their re¬
newed friendship: but returned soon after to his belov¬
ed Cleopatra, and again lived with her in Alexandria.
Octavius took hold of this pretence to inveigh against
him, and begin the war again. At last they engaged
in a sea fight at Actium, in which Octavius gained a
complete victory $ which was followed by the deaths
both of Antonius and Cleopatra. The infatuated Anto¬
nius fell upon his own sword j and Cleopatra stung hew-
self to death with an asp, as was supposed, to avoid
gracing the victor’s triumph at Rome.
.ANTONOMASIA, a form of speech, in which,
for a proper name, is put the name of some dignity,
office, profession, science or trade j or when a proper
name is put in the room of an appellative. Thus a
king- is called his majesty; a nobleman, his lordship.
We sav the philosopher instead of Aristotle, and the
orator for Cicero : Thus a man is called by the name
of his country, a German, an Italian; and a grave
man is called a Cato, and a wise man a Solomon.
ANTOSIANDRIANS, a sect of rigid Lutherans,
who oppose the doctrine of Osiander relating to justifi¬
cation. These are otherwise denominated Osiandro-
mastiges.—The Antosiandrians deny that man is made
just, with that justice wherewith God himself is just j
that is, they assert, that he is not made essentially, but
only imputatively, just j or, that he is not really made
just, but only pronounced so.
ANTRIM, the most northerly county of Ireland. It
is bounded by that of Down on the south-east, that of
Londonderry on the west, from which it is separated
by the river Bann, part of Armagh on the south, St
George’s channel on the east, and the Deucaledonian
ocean on the north. Its greatest length is about 46
miles, its greatest breadth about 27 j and it contains
972 square miles, or 622,059 Engli»h acres. Though
the country is much encumbered with bogs and marsh¬
es, yet it enjoys a pretty good air; and it is well
peopled, chiefly with Protestants. Where it is free
from bogs the soil is fruitful. It sends five members
to parliament, two for the shire, and one for each of
the three principal towns, Belfast, Carrickfergus, and
Lisburn.
Certain narrow valleys, called glyns, beginning here,
and running a great way along the coast, belonged
formerly to the Bissets, noblemen of Scotland, who
having been obliged to quit that country for having
assassinated Patrick earl of Athole upon a private quar¬
rel, came hither, and had a great estate bestowed up¬
on them by Henry III. of England ; of which in the
reign of Edward II. a part was forfeited by the rebel¬
lion of Hugh, ‘then chief of the family. Another
tract near this, called the Rowfe, belonged anciently
to the Macguillers, but now to the M‘Donnels, earls
of Antrim.
Upon the coast of this county are the promontories
3 L called
ANT [ 450 ] 'A N T
Antrim called by Ptolemy, Robogdium, Venniciniutn and Bo-
|| ranim^ now Fair Foreland, Ramshead, and St Helen's
Antwerp, fiea(}t rjver a]SOj styled by the same author Vi-
'r * dua, and now Crodach, J'uns through this county.—
Here, also is the remarkable natural curiosity called
the Giant's Causeway, for a description of which see
that article. See Antrim, Supplement.
Antrim, the capital town of the county of An¬
trim, in Ireland, seated at the north end of the lake
Lough Neagh, about six miles from the mouth of the
bav, having a good road before it, with a pier near
the place, within which vessels lie dry at low water.
It was anciently a borough of great consequence, as
appears from the mayor’s being admiral of a consider¬
able extent of coast, as well in Down as in this coun¬
ty \ the corporation enjoying the customs paid by all
vessels within those bounds, the creeks of Bangor and
Belfast only excepted. This grant, however, the crown
repurchased, and thereupon transferred the custom¬
house to Belfast, to which town it is now much infe¬
rior as well in size as in trade. It is, however, still a
place of note, and formerly sent two members to the
Irish house of commons. It gives the title of earl to
the noble family of M‘Donnel.—At Antrim is a seat,
with noble demesnes, and beautiful and highly cultivat¬
ed lands, of the earl of Massareene. W. Long. 6. 26.
N. Lat. 54. 45.
ANTRUM, among Anatomists, a term used to de¬
note several cavities of the body: as the antrum high-
morianum, or that in the maxillary or jaw bone ; ara-
tmm pylori, or that at the bottom of the pylorus, &c.
ANTWERP, a city of the duchy of Brabant, in the
Netherlands, formerly capital of the marquisate of
Antwerp, otherwise called the marquisate of the holy
Roman empire, situated in E. Long. 4. 15. N. Lat. 51.
12. It lies in a low marshy ground on the Scheld,
24 miles from Brussels to the north. It is the third
city in rank in Brabant, large and well built, contain¬
ing 22 squares, and above 200 streets, all straight and
broad, especially that called the Mere, in which six
coaches can go abreast. Most of the houses are of
freestone, and have an air of antiquity, being high,
with courts before and gardens behind. At the head
of the Mere is a crucifix of brass thirty-three feet high.
The cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the
stadthouse, and the exchange, are magnificent struc¬
tures : the latter is the first building of that kind in
Europe, and on its model the exchanges of London
and Amsterdam are built. Its pillars are all of blue
marble, and carved, but all in a different manner.
The exchange cost the city 300,000 crowns. Ant¬
werp, towards the end of the fifteenth century, was
one of the most celebrated towns that ever existed.
The Scheld, on which it stands, being 20 feet deep
at low water, and rising 20 feet more at flood, ships of
the greatest burden came up to the queys, as in the river
Thames at London ; but when the United Provinces
formed themselves into a free state, after having shaken
off the yoke of Spain, they got the entire command of
the navigation of the Scheld $ which ruined the trade
of Antwerp, apd transferred it to Amsterdam. This
made the inhabitants turn their heads to painting,
jewelling, and banking, which they have continued to
this day with great success and reputation ; for at Ant¬
werp bills of exchange may be negotiated for any sum
3,
to any part of Europe j and in the time of Queen
Anne’s wars, two brothers of the name of De Koning,
paid the one the army of France, and the other that of
the confederates. Besides, here is a fine manufacture
of tapestry and lace ; and, for the promoting of trade,
an insurance company has been erected. This city was
the see of a bishop, who, as abbot of St Bernard, wras
the second prelate in Brabant. The bishopric was of
great extent, and the cathedral a most noble pile, with
one of the finest steeples in the world. The emperor,
Charles V. when he made his entry into Antwerp,
said it ought to be put in a case, and showed only once
a year for a rarity. The house of the hanse towns,
built wrhen the city was in its flourishing condition, is
a stately building, with magazines above for dry goods,
and cellars below for wet, and in the middle story
were 300 lodging rooms for merchants ; but now it is
turned to a horse barrack. There is a market here,
called the Friday's Market, because it is held every
Friday, where all sorts of household goods, pictures,
and jewels, are sold by auction. No city in the Ne¬
therlands has so many and so fine churches as this.
Manyr of them, particularly the cathedral and Jesuits
church, are adorned with paintings, by Sir Peter Paul
Rubens, who was a native of this city 5 and by Quin-
tin Masseys, who is said to have been a blacksmith j
but having fallen in love with a painter’s daughter,
and been told by her father, when he asked her of
him in marriage, that he would have none but a paint¬
er for his son-in-law, he went to Italy to study paint¬
ing, and, in a few years, returned so eminent in his
new profession, that he found no difficulty in obtain¬
ing the father’s consent. He is interred at the entry
of the cathedral, where his effigy is put up, with an
inscription, signifying, that conjugal love made an A-
peiles of a blacksmith. The above mentioned Jesuits
church is extremely magnificent, and the chapel of
the Virgin, joining to it, still more so. Among the
cloisters the most remarkable are, the noble and rich
abbey of St Michael, on the banks of the Scheld, the
apartments of which are truly royal, and in which
sovereign princes were often lodged ; and the English
nunnery, of the order of St Teresa, the nuns of which
never wore linen, nor ate flesh, and lay upon straw :
the grates of the convent are so dismal, that it looks
like a prison. As to the fortifications of the city, it
is environed with a fine wall, planted with rows of
trees on each side, with walks between, broad enough
for two coaches to go abreast, being also defended by
a very strong, large, regular citadel, in form of a pen¬
tagon, erected by the duke of Alva in 1568, which
commands the town and the neighbouring country.
The magistracy of this city is chosen only out of the
several patrician families j and consists of two burgo¬
masters and 18 echevins, besides inferior magistrates.
Among the privileges granted to it by its princes,
there is one by which every person born in it is a
citizen, though both his father and mother were fo¬
reigners.
In 1585, Antwerp underwent a remarkable siege
by the duke of Parma. It was then the most wealthy
city in the Netherlands, and had long been the object
of his designs ; but the difficulties attending the entex'-
prise obliged him to postpone it for a considerable time.
In order to succeed, it was necessary to cut off the
communication
ANT [ 45i ] A N U
4 twerp, communication of the city with Holland, Ghent, and
JlyJLL, all places above and below Antwerp on the Scheld.
To effect this, he laid siege to Liskenhousk and Tillo,
places of the utmost consequence to the security and
commerce of the city : both were obstinately defend¬
ed ; and the siege of the latter was raised, after it had
been carried on for three months : however, the duke
gained several other posts on the river, where he built
forts, and greatly annoyed the shipping and trade of
the city. He next laid* siege to Dendermonde, in or¬
der to cut off the communication with Ghent, in which
he succeeded by the reduction of the town. His next
attempt was on Vilvorde: this place he took by as¬
sault, and thereby cut off the communication with
Brussels. Finding, however, this method of hemming
in the city tedious, and ineffectual while an opening
to the mouth of the river remained, he formed a de¬
sign of building a bridge adross the Scheld, the extre¬
mities of which were to be defended by strong forts
and outworks. He began with collecting great quan¬
tities of wood at Callo and Fort St Philip, where, he
intended the bridge should be built but his project
was for some time retarded by the Antwerpers, who
broke down the dykes, overflowed the whole country,
and carried off his magazines by the inundation. Not
discouraged by this loss, he applied himself diligently
to repair it, and with incredible expedition cut a canal
from Steken to Callo, by which he carried off the wa¬
ters. He then set to work upon the bridge, and fi¬
nished it in seven months, without any interruption
from the Zealanders. During the building of this
bridge, Aldegonde, governor of Antvyerp, proposed
to build a fort on Couvensteyn dyke, in order to se¬
cure that important post, and then break down the
dyke when the bridge was near finished : but he rvas
violently opposed by certain citizens; who apprehend¬
ed that their lands and villas would be destroyed by
the inundation. This unseasonable opposition, with
the negligence of the magistrates, who, because the
markets were high, had not laid in a sufficient stock
of corn, occasioned the loss of the city. However, in
despite of all the duke of Parma’s precaution, the
Zealanders found means to throw in a convoy of corn •,
but the citizens, knowing they would not run the risk
of carrying it back again, so cheapened the price, that
these bold traders refused ever to bring their goods
again to so bad a market. The Antwerpers, having
thus through avarice brought on their ruin, began in
a short time to suffer by famine *, they then pressed the
Zealanders to attempt something for their relief, but it
W'as now too late. While the magistrates were delibe¬
rating on some means for destroying the bridge, which
they might have prevented from being ever completed,
one Ginebelli, a Mantuan engineer, offered his ser¬
vices, undertaking at a certain expence to blow it into
the air. Even in this extremity the expence was
grudged : but necessity at last overcame this obstacle ;
Ginebelli was furnished with two large vessels, a num¬
ber of small boats, and every thing necessary. He
formed the two large vessels into fire ships, which he
set adrift with the stream, deceiving the enemy by
means of false fires lighted up in the fleet of small
boats. The train ol one of the fire ships was expended
before the time expected, and she blew up with a ter¬
rible explosion, but with little damage to the bridge.
The other was more successful, carrying off all the Antwerp,
outworks, setting fire to the whole bridge, and bury- Antibis.
ing above 500 soldiers in the ruins it made. The "
bridge however, was repaired, and the Antwerpers
were soon reduced to the greatest straits, and obliged
to surrender. It is said that the city of Amsterdam
had obstructed every measure for the relief of Antwerp,
hoping to profit by its destruction. By a stipulation
between Spain and Holland at the peace of Westphalia
in 1648, the navigation of the Scheld was closed. The
emperor Joseph made an attempt to break this agree¬
ment in 1785, but did not succeed. At length, when
the place fell into the hands of the French in 1792,
the navigation of the river was declared open. Subse¬
quent to this period, docks and store-houses were built,
and the port improved. It was surrendered to the al¬
lies in 1814, after the capitulation of Paris, and now
begins to revive. It contains at present 61,800 inha¬
bitants.
ANUBIS, a symbolical deity of the Egyptians, was
regarded as the faithful companion of Osiris and of
Isis. Temples and priests were consecrated to him,
and his image was borne in all religious ceremonies.
Cynopolis, the present Minieh, situated in the Low¬
er Thebais, was built in honour of Anubis. The
temple wherein he was worshipped no longer subsists.
The priests celebrated his festivals there with great
pomp, and consecrated the dog to him as his living
representation. “ Anubis (says Strabo) is the city of
dogs, the capital of the Cynopolitan prefecture. These
animals are fed there on sacred aliments, and religion
has decreed them a worship.” An event, however, re¬
lated by Plutarch, brought them into considerable dis¬
credit with the people. Cambyses having slain the
god Apis, and thrown his body into a field, all ani¬
mals respected it except the dogs, which alone ate of
his flesh. This impiety diminished the popular venera¬
tion for them.
Cynopolis was not the only city which burned in¬
cense on the altars of Anubis. He had chapels in al¬
most all the temples. On solemnities, his image al¬
ways accompanied those of Isis and Osiris. Rome hav¬
ing adopted the ceremonies of Egypt, the emperor
Commodus, to celebrate the Isiac feasts, shaved his
head, and hirnself carried the god Anubis. The sta
tue of this god was either of massive gold or gilt, as
well as the attributes that accompanied him. Anubis
signifies gilded. The denomination was mysterious ;
and the Egyptian priests, it would seem, had not gi¬
ven it without reason.
The signification of this emblematical deity is thus
explained by Plutarch: “ The circle which touches
and separates the two hemispheres, and which is the
cause of this division, receiving the name of horizon,
is called Anubis. He is represented under the form of
a dog, because that animal watches day and night.”
St Clemens of Alexandria, who was well informed in
the mystic theology of the Egyptians, favours this ex¬
plication. The two dogs, says he, (the two Anubes)
are the symbols of two hemispheres which environ the
terrestrial globe. He adds in another place : Others
pretend that these animals, the faithful guardians of
men, indicate the tropics, which guard the sun on the
south and on the north like porters.
According to the former of these interpretation^,
3 L 2 the
A O R [45
die priests, regarding Anubis as the horizon, gilded
bis statue; to mark, that this circle, receiving the first
rays of the sun, appears sparkling with brightness on
his rising, and that at his setting he reflects his last rays
upon the earth. They said, in their sacred fables, that
Anubis was the son of Osiris, but illegitimate. In fact,
he only gives to the earth a borrowed light j and can¬
not be esteemed, like Horus, as the father of the day,
or as the legitimate offspring of Osiris. It may be add¬
ed, that the visible horizon turning with the sun, is
his inseparable companion.
In the latter of these explications, where Anubis
represents the tropics, he is also the faithful guardian
of Isis and Osiris. In fact, the course of the sun and
of the moon is contained between the circles wherein
the solstices are performed. They neither deviate to
the right nor left. These limits assigned by the Au*
thor of nature might therefore, in hieroglyphic lan¬
guage, be represented by a divinity with the head of
a dog, who seemed to oppose the passage on the side
of the two poles. The other opinion, notwithstanding,
seems more natural, and to be more analogous to the
ideas of the priests.
Upon the whole, it is reasonable to imagine, that
Anubis at first was only a symbolical image, invented
by astronomers to give a sensible expression of their
discoveries j that afterwards, the people, accustomed
to see it in their temples, which were the depositaries
of science, adored it as a deity 5 and that the priests
favoured their ignorance by connecting it with their
religion. The worship of Anubis introduced, that of
the dog became his emblem. Almost all the gods of the
Gentiles have originated in this manner.
ANUS, in Anatomy, the lower extremity of the in-
testinum rectum, or orifice of the fundament.
ANVIL, a smith’s utensil, serving to place the
work on to be hammered or forged. The face or up¬
permost part of the anvil, must be verv flat and
smooth, without flaws, and so hard that a file will not
touch it. At one end there is sometimes a pike, bic-
kern or beak-iron, for the rounding of hollow work.
The whole is usually mounted on a firm wooden
block. — forged anvils are better than those of cast
work, and the best have the upper part made of steel.
Locksmiths have a smaller kind of anvil called the stake,
which is used for setting small cold work straight. See
Anvil, Supplement.
Ain v ILLE, Jp:an B. B. d’, a celebrated French
geographer. See Supplement.
AN XU If, in Ancient Geography, a city of the Vol-
sci, in Latium; called Tarracina, by the Greeks and
Latins : Now Terracinui situated on an eminence
(Livy, Horace, Sil. Italicus). Anxuras, a citizen
ot Anxur (Livy). And the epithet Anxurus, a name
of Jupiter, worshipped without a beard at Anxur
(Virgil). Though others read Axuras, or Axyras,
without a razor. E. Long. 14. 5. Lat. 41. 18.
AONIDES, in Mythology, one of the many appel¬
lations of the muses $ so called Irom Aonia, a part of
ancient Bceotia.
AORASIA, in Antiquity, the invisibility of the
gods. I he word is Greek, and derived from
<*.. priv. and to see. The opinion of the ancients
with regard to the appearance of the gods to men, was
that they never showed themselves face to face, but
3
] A O R
were known from their backs as they withdrew. Nep¬
tune assumed the form of Calchas to speak to the two
Ajaces ; but they knew him not till he turned his back
to leave them, and discovered the god by his majestic
step as he w-ent from them. Venus appeared to HSneas
in the character of a huntress ; but her son knew her
not till she departed Irom him : her divinity was then
betrayed by her radiant head, her flowing robe, and her
majestic pace.
AORIST, among grammarians, a tense peculiar to
the Greek language, comprehending all the tenses $ 01
rather, expressing action in an indeterminate manner,
without any regard to past, present, and future.
AORISTIA, in the sceptic philosophy, denotes that
state of the mind wherein we neither assert nor deny
any thing positively, but only speak of things as seem¬
ing or appearing to us in such a manner. The aoristia
is one of the great points or terms of scepticism, to
which the philosophers of that denomination had con¬
tinual recourse by way of explication, or subterfuge.
Their adversaries, the dogmatists, charged them with
dogmatizing, and asserting the principles and positiona
of their sect to he true and certain.
AOBNUS, a very high rock of India, having its
name from its extraordinary height, as being above the
flight of a bird. Its circuit was about 25 miles, its
height 1 x furlongs, and the wray leading up to the top
artificial and narrow. At the bottom, on one side, ran
the river Indus 5 on the top was*A fine plain, part of
which was covered with a thick wood j the rest arable
land, with a fountain furnishing abundance of excel¬
lent water. This rock was taken by Alexander the
Great, in whose time there was a report that Hercules
had attempted it in vain 5 however, according to Ar¬
rian, this report was without foundation. It is proba¬
ble indeed, that it was raised after the place was tak¬
en, in order to'magnify Alexander’s exploit. While
the Macedonian monarch was preparing all things ne¬
cessary for the siege, an old man with his two sons,
xvho had long lived in a cave near the summit, came
and offered to show him a private way of ascending.
This being readily accepted, Ptolemy, with a consi¬
derable body of light-armed troops, was despatched
with them, with orders, in case they succeeded, to in¬
trench themselves strongly upon the rock, in the wood
to which the old man was to direct them, before they
ventured to attack the Indians. Ptolemy exactly exe¬
cuted his orders ; and gave notice, by a lighted torch
set upon a pole, that he had got safely up. Upon
this, Alexander gave immediate orders for a body of
troops to attempt the passage by which the rock was
commonly ascended ; but they were repulsed with great
slaughter. He then sent an Indian with letters to Pto¬
lemy, desiring him, the next time an attack was made
by the common way, to fall upon the enemy behind,
but in the mean time, those who defended the rock
attacked Ptolemy with great vigour j but were at last
repulsed, though with much difficulty: but the next
day, when Alexander renewed the attack, though
Ptolemy attacked the Indians in the rear, the Mace¬
donians were repulsed on both sides. At last, the king
perceiving that the strength of the Indians lay in the
straitness and declivity of the way by which they were
attacked, caused a great quantity of trees to be felled,
and with them filled the cavities between the plain on
which
A P
[ 453 ]
A P A
Aomus
psedusia
which the Indians were encamped and the highest of
his own advanced posts. The Indians at first derided
his undertaking 5 but at length perceiving the ardour
with which the work was carried on, and having felt
the effects of the missile weapons of the Macedonians,
they sent deputies to propose terms of capitulation.
Alexander suspecting that their design was only to
amuse him till they made their escape, withdrew^ his
troops from the avenues. As soon as he knew the
Indians were descended, he, with 700 of Ptolemy’s
light-armed foot, took possession of the deserted rock,
and then made a signal for his forces to fall upon the
dying Indians. They, setting up a loud shout, so ter¬
rified the fugitives, that numbers of them fell from the
rocks and precipices, and were dashed to pieces, while
the greatest part of the remainder were cut off in the
roads.
AORTA, in Anatomy, the great artery which rises
immediately from the left ventricle of the heart, and
is from thence distributed to all parts of the body. It
is divided into two grand trunks, distinguished by the
epithets ascending and descending. See Anatomy.
AOUSTA, or Aost, a town of Italy, in Piedmont,
and capital of the duchy of the same name, a bishop’s
see, and subject to the king of Sardinia. It is remark¬
able for several monuments of the Romans, and for the
birth of Anselm archbishop of Canterbury. It is seat¬
ed at the foot of the Alps, on the river Doria. E.
Long. 7. 33. N. Lat. 45. 58.
Aousta, a territory of Piedmont, with the title 01
a duchy. It is a valley 30 miles in length, and ex¬
tends from the pass of St Martin’s, near the frontiers
of Yvree, to St Bernard. It abounds in pastures,
and all sorts of fruits. The capital is of the same
name.
AOUTA, the name of the paper mulberry tree at
Otaheite in the South sea, from which a cloth is ma¬
nufactured that is worn by the principal inhabitants.
See the article Bark.
APACHES, a people of New Mexico in North
America. They are brave, resolute, and warlike, fond
of liberty, and the inveterate enemies of tyranny and
oppression. Of this disposition the Spaniards had fatal
experience towards the end of the last century, when
they revolted against the Catholic king, massacred se¬
veral of his officers, and committed the greatest devas¬
tations. Ever since, they have remained the allies, not
the subjects of the Spaniards , and the viceroy of Mexi¬
co has been obliged to maintain a more formidable gar¬
rison, and a greater number of troops.
APiEDUSIA, denotes ignorance or unskilfulness
in what relates to learning and the sciences. Hence
also persons uninstructed and illiterate are called apce±
deutce. The term apeedeutce was particularly used
among the French in the time of Huet; when the men
of wit at Paris were divided into two factions, one
called by way of reproach apcedeutce, and the others
eruditi. The apcedeutcv are represented by Huet as per¬
sons who, finding themselves either incapable or un¬
willing to undergo a severe course of study in order to
become truly learned, conspire to decry learning, and
turn the knowledge of antiquity into ridicule, thus
making a merit of their own incapacity. I he apee-
deutce in effect were the men of pleasure 5 the eruditi
the men of study. The apctdeutee in every thing pre- Apeedusk
ferred the modern writers to the ancient, to supersede (]
the necessity of studying the latter. The derided A pa me a,
the moderns, and valued themselves wholly on their ac¬
quaintance with the ancients.
APAGOGE, in Logic. See Abduction.
Apagoge, in the Athenian law, the carrying a
criminal taken in the fact to the magistrate. If the
accuser was not able to bring him to the magistrate, it
was usual to take the magistrate along with him to the
house where the criminal lay concealed, or defended
himself.
Apagoge, in Mathematics, is sometimes used to de¬
note a progress or passage from one proposition to ano¬
ther 5 when the first having been once demonstrated, is
afterwards employed in the proving of others.
APAGOGICAL demonstration, an indirect
way of proof, by showing the absurdity of the con¬
trary.
APALACHIAN mountains, more properly call¬
ed the Allegany Mountains, have their southern begin¬
ning in the latitude of 34®, extending northerly through
the United States, and running nearly parallel with the
sea coast to the latitude of 410 north. The length of
the chain is about 800 miles. Their height is not great,
being in general not above 3000 feet. Their summits,
in many cases, form a continued line, neither broken by
transverse fissures, nor elevated into peaks. They in¬
clude properly three or four distinct ridges, the west-
most of which is called Laurel Mountain, and the east-
most Blue Mountain *, and they thus cover a space of
a hundred miles in breadth. Between these ridges the
soil is generally excellent. The valleys are wide, and
not steep, and the hills are often wooded to their sum¬
mits. These mountains divide the United States like a
back bone, and direct the course of the rivers on the
one side to the sea, and on the other to the Mississippi.
Chesnuts and small oaks are the trees that principally
grow on these mountains, with some chinkapin ^ an<^pl!jijpQUt
other small shrubs. The grass is thin, mixed with vetch^1 13
and small pease •, and in some places there is very little
vegetable appearance.
The rocks of the Apalachian mountains are mostly of
a light gray colour} some are of a coarse-grained mar¬
ble like alabasterj others of a metallic lustre: some
pieces are in the form of slate, and brittle ; others in
lumps, and hard: and some appear with spangles, or
covered over with innumerable small shining specks,
like silver. These frequently appear at the roots of
trees when blown down. The different spars are found
mostly on the highest and steepest parts of the hills,
where there is little grass and few trees j but the great¬
est part of the soil between the rocks is generally a dark
sandy-coloured kind of mould, and shallow.
APAMEA, or Apamia, the name of several ancient
cities^
1. One of Bithynia, formerly called Myrlea, from
Myrlus, general of the Colophonians : destroyed by
Philip, father of Perseus ; and given to his ally Prusias,
who rebuilt it, and called it Apamea, from the name of
his queen Apama fStrabo). Stephanus says, that Ni-
comedes Epiphanes, son of Prusias, called it after his
mother 5 and that it had its ancient name from Myrlea,
an Amazon. The Romans led a colony thither (Stra-.
bo) j
A P A [ 454 ] A P A
Apamea to) ; called Colonia Apamena (Pliny, Appian). ^ The
|] gentilitious name is Apamceus and Apameiius (Trajan
A pant hr o- a jetter to Pliny).
, , 2. Another Apaineay called Cibotus, of Phrygia, at
some distance from the Meander (Agathodasmon); hut
by a coin of Tiberius, on the Meander. The name is
from Apame, mother of Antiochus Soter, the found¬
er, and the daughter of Artabazus (Strabo). The
rise, or at least the increase, of Apamea, was owing to
the ruins of Celenae. The inhabitants were called
Apamienses; and, though inland, were worshippers of
Neptune. The reason, it has been conjectured, was,
that thev had suffered often from earthquakes, of
which he was the supposed author. Mithridates gave
a hundred talents towards the restoration of the city 5
which, it is said, had likewise been overthrown in the
time of Alexander. Their tribute money was remit¬
ted to them for five years on the same account under
the emperor Tiberius. The' subterraneous passage of
the Lycus and the other streams, showed that the
ground had many cavities ; and these, it has been sur¬
mised, rendered the region very liable to be shaken.
3. A third, on the confines of Parthia and Media,
surnamed Raphane (Strabo, Pliny).
4. A fourth Apamea, a town of Mesene, an island
in the Tigris (Pliny, Ammian) ; where a branch of
the Euphrates, called the Royal River, falls into the
Tigris (Ptolemy).
5. A fifth in Mesopotamia, on the other side of the
Euphrates, opposite to Zeugma on this side, both found¬
ed by Seleucus, and joined by a bridge, from which the
latter takes its name (Pliny, Isidor. Characenus).
6. A sixth Apamea, now Famia, also in Syria, below
the confluence of the Orontes and Marsyas ; a strong-
city, and situated in a peninsula, formed by the Oron¬
tes and a lake. “ It is here (says Strabo) that the
Seleucidse had established the school and nursery of
their cavalry.” The soil of the neighbourhood, abound¬
ing in pasturage, fed no less than 30,000 mares, 300
stallions, and 500 elephants ; instead of which, the
marshes of Famia at present scarcely afford a few buf¬
faloes and sheep. To the veteran soldiers of Alexan¬
der, who here reposed after their victories, have suc¬
ceeded wretched peasants, who live in perpetual dread
of the oppressions of the Turks and the inroads of the
Arabs.
Apamea was also the ancient name of Rdla, in the
Decapolis.
APANAGE, or Appennage, in the French cus¬
toms, lands assigned by a sovereign for the subsistence
of his younger sons, which revert to the crown upon
the failure of male issue in that branch to which the
lands are granted.
APANOMIA, a town of Santorin, an island in the
Mediterranean sea, called in this part by some the sea
of Candia. It has a spacious harbour, in the form of a
half moon ; but the bottom is so deep, that ships can¬
not anchor there. E. Long. 25. 59. N. Lat. 36. 18.
APANTHROPY, in Medicine, denotes a love of
solitude, and aversion for the company of mankind.
Apanthropy is by some reckoned among the symptoms,
by others among the species or degrees of melancholy-
and also passes for an ill indication in ieucophlegmatic
cases.
APARINE, in Botany, a synonyme of the urticu- Apariiu
laria and several other plants. |j
APARITHMESIS, in Rhetoric, denotes the an- A,Pai'ba.
swer to the protasis or proposition itself. Thus, if the ' -
protasis be, Appellandi tempus non erat,—the aparith-
mesis is, At tecum anno plus vixi.
APARTISMENUS, in the ancient poetry, an ap¬
pellation given to a verse, which comprehended an en¬
tire sense or sentence in itself. This is sometimes also
written apartememts, i. e. suspended, as not needing
any following verse.
APATHY, among the ancient philosophers, im¬
plied an utter privation of passion, and an insensibility
of pain. The word is compounded of a priv. and
affection. The Stoics affected an entire apathy j
they considered it as the highest wisdom to enjoy a per¬
fect calmness or tranquillity of mind, incapable of be¬
ing ruffled by either pleasure or pain. In the first ages
of the church, the Christians adopted the term apathy,
to express a contempt of all earthly concerns j a state of
mortification, such as the gospel prescribes. Clemens
Alexandrinus, in particular, brought it exceedingly in
vogue ; thinking hereby to draw the philosophers to
Christianity, who aspired after such a sublime pitch of
virtue. Quietism is only apathy disguised under the
appearance of devotion.
APATURIA, in antiquity, a solemn feast cele¬
brated by the Athenians in honour of Bacchus. The
word is usually derived from unxm, fraud. It is said to
have been instituted in memory of a fraudulent victory
obtained by Melanthus, king of Athens, over Xanthus,
king of Boeotia, in a single combat, which they agreed
upon, to put an end to a debate between them relating
to the frontiers of their countries. Hence Budasus
calls it festum deceptionis, “ the feast of deceit.”
Other authors give a different etymology of this
feast: They tell us, that the young Athenians were
not admitted into the tribes on the third day of the
apaturia, till their fathers had first sworn that thev
were their own children ; and that till that time, they
were supposed, in some measure, to be without fathers,
aTnsfragjj j whence the feast, say they, took its name.
Xenophon, on the other hand, informs us, that the re¬
lations and friends met on this occasion, and joined
with the fathers of the young people who were to be
received into the tribes ; and that from this assembly
the feast took its name ; that in £*5r«£T8g«*, the es, far
from being a privative, being here a conjunctive, signi¬
fies the same thing with together. This feast lasted
four days : the first day, those of the same tribe made
merry together ; and this they called The se¬
cond day, which they called they sacrificed
to Jupiter and Minerva. The third day, which they
called xvgzuTi?, such of their young men and maids as
were of age were admitted into their tribes. The
fourth day they called tiri/Sjjj.
APAULIA, in antiquity, the third day of a mar¬
riage solemnity. It was thus called because the bride,
returning to her father’s house, did uTrtx.vXifyo-OM tv
vvfAtpiu, lodge apart from the bridegroom. Some will
have the apaulia to have been the second day of the
marriage, viz. that whereon the chief ceremony was
performed ; thus called by way of contradistinction
from the first day, which was called -x^oavMx. On
the
APE [ 455 ] APE
the day called ctTrxvXi* (whenever that was), the bride
presented her bridegroom with a garment called uttciv
APE, in Zoology, the general English name of a
very numerous race of animals, the natural history of
which is given at large under the article Simia ; com¬
prehending Apes, properly so called, or such as want
tails; and Monkeys and Baboons, or such as have
tails, the former long, and the other short, ones. See
Simia.
Sea Ape, a name given by Steller to a marine ani¬
mal which he saw on the coast of America, and is thus
■Hut of described *. “ The head appeared like that of a dog,
{amtschat-with sharp and upright ears, large eyes, and with both
:a, p. 135. lips bearded : the body round and conoid ; the thickest
part near the head ; the tail forked j the upper lobe
the longest: the body covered with thick hair, gray on
the back, reddish on the belly. It seemed destitute of
feet. It was extremely wanton, and played a multi¬
tude of monkey tricks. It sometimes swam on one
side, sometimes on the other side of the ship, and gazed
at it with great admiration. It made so near an ap¬
proach to the vessel, as almost to be touched with a
pole ; but if anybody movejl, it instantly retired. It
would often stand erect for a considerable space, with
one third of its body above water; then dart beneath
the ship, and appear on the other side; and repeat the
same thirty times together. It would frequently arise
with a sea plant, not unlike the bottle gourd, toss it
up, and catch it in its mouth, playing with it number¬
less fantastic tricks.
APELYTES, Christian heretics in the second cen¬
tury, who affirmed that Christ received a body from
the four elements, which at his death he rendered back
to the world, and so ascended into heaven without a
body.
APELLA, among physicians, a name given to
those whose prepuce is either wanting or shrunk, so
that it can no longer cover the glans. Many authors
have supposed this sense of the word Apella warranted
from the passage in Horace, credat Judaeus Apella non
ego. But, according to Salmasius and others, Apella
is the proper name of a certain Jew, and not an adjec¬
tive signifying circumcised.
APELLES, one of the most celebrated painters of
antiquity. He was born in the island of Cos, and flou¬
rished in the time of Alexander the Great, with whom
he was in high favour. He executed a picture of this
prince, holding a thunderbolt in his hand : a piece,
finished with so much skill and dexterity, that it used
to be said there were two Alexanders ; one invincible,
the son of Philip ; the other inimitable, the produc¬
tion of Apelles. Alexander gave him a remarkable
proof of his regard : for when he employed Apelles
to draw Campaspe, one of his mistresses, having found
that he had conceived an affection for her, he resigned
her to him ; and it was from her that Apelles is said to
have drawn his Venus Anadyomene.
One of Apelles’s chief excellencies w’as his making
his pictures exactly resemble the persons represented ;
insomuch that the physiognomists are said to have been
able to form a judgment of the person’s destiny as
readily from his portraits as if they had seen the origi¬
nals. But what is called gr ace was the characteristic
of this artist. His pencil was so famous for drawing
fine lines, that Protogenes discovered by a single line Apelles,
that Apelles had been at bis house. Protogenes lived' v““—
at Rhodes: Apelles sailed thither, and went to his
house with great eagerness to see the works ot an ar¬
tist who was known to him only by name. Pi'otoge-
nes was gone from home : but an old woman was left
watching a large piece of canvass, which was fitted in
a frame for painting. She told Apelles that Protoge¬
nes was gone out; and asked him his name, that she
might inform her master who had inquired for him.
“ Tell him (says Apelles) he was inquired for by
this person —at the same time taking up a pen¬
cil, he drew on the canvass a line of great delicacy.
When Protogenes returned, the old woman acquainted
him with what had happened. That artist, upon con¬
templating the fine stroke of the line, immediately
pronounced that Apelles had been there ; for so finish¬
ed a work could be produced by no other person. Pro¬
togenes, however, himself drew a finer line of another
colour ; and, as he was going away, ordered the old
woman to show that line to Apelles if he came again ;
and to say, “ This is the person for whom you are in¬
quiring.” Apelles returned, and saw the line : he
would not for shame be overcome ; and therefore, in a
colour different from either of the former, he drew
some lines so exquisitely delicate, that it was utterly
impossible for finer strokes to be made. Protogenes
now confessed the superiority of Apelles, flew to the
harbour in search of him, and resolved to leave the
canvass with the lines on it for the astonishment of fu¬
ture artists.
Apelles showed great liberality of mind towards Pro¬
togenes. With ideas enlarged by education and litera¬
ture, he was incapable of harbouring little jealousies of
noble competitors ; on the contrary, he was the first
who made the works of Protogenes to be valued as
they deserved among the Rhodians. He acknowledged
that Protogenes was in some respects superior to him¬
self; but that in one particular himself excelled, viz.
in knowing when to take his hand from the picture ;
an art which Protogenes had not yet learned, and
therefore over-worked his pieces. Apelles equally
disapproved of too elaborate diligence, or too hasty k
negligence in execution. A studied work of Proto¬
genes he esteemed less on the one account ; and on the
other, when a silly painter once brought him a picture,
and said, “ This I painted in a hurry,”—he replied,
“ Though you had not told me so, I perceived it was
painted in haste : but I wonder you could not execute
more such pieces in the same time.”
There are two stories related of Apelles, which show
him to be at once an artist of modesty, in amending
even trifling improprieties, when pointed out to him
by competent judges ; and yet of self-confidence suffi¬
cient to make him know the perfection and value of his
own paintings. It was customary with Apelles to ex¬
pose to public view the works which he had finished,
and to hide himself behind the picture, in order to hear
the remarks passed on it by persons who chanced to
view it. He once overheard himself blamed by a shoe¬
maker for a fault in the slippers of some picture : he
corrected the fault which the man had noticed : but
on the day following the shoemaker began to animad¬
vert on the leg ; upon which Apelles with some an¬
ger looked out from behind the canvass, and bade him
keep
APE [ 456 ] APE
Apelles keep to his own province, “ Ne sutor ultra crepulam.”
11 It is well known that Alexander forbade any one besides
Apennimis. Ape]leg to paint his portrait. We are not, however,
-j ^ conc]U(ie from thls^ that Alexander was a more
skilful judge of painting than he was of poetry. Like
Augustus, he cherished the fine arts more from vanity
than taste. A remarkable proof is given of this prince’s
inability to discern merit, and of the painter’s freedom
in expressing the mortification he felt, when a work of
his was not sufficiently commended. “ Alexander (says
/Elian, lib. ii. c. 3. Var. Hist.) having viewed the pic¬
ture of himself which was at Ephesus, did not praise it
as it deserved. But when a horse was brought in, and
neighed at seeing the figure of a horse in the picture,
as though it had been a real horse; 0 king ! (said A-
pelles) this horse seems to be by far a better judge of
painting than you?'' It happened more than once that
the horses drawn by him were mistaken for real ones,
by living horses which saw and neighed at the pictures.
In his finishing a drawing of this animal, a remarkable
circumstance is related of him. He had painted a horse
returning from battle, and had succeeded to his wishes
in describing every other mark that could indicate a
mettlesome steed, impatient of restraint j there was
wanting nothing but a foam of a bloody hue issuing
from the mouth. He again and again endeavoured to
express this, but his attempts were unsuccessful. At
last, \vith vexation, he threw against the reins of the
horse a sponge which had in it many colours ; a mixture
of which coming out of the sponge, and tinging the
reins, produced the very effect desired by the painter.
The works of Apelles were all admired ; but the
most celebrated were the picture of Alexander in the
temple of Diana at Ephesus, and that of Venus emer¬
ging from the sea. Alexander was drawn with thun¬
der in his hand ; and such relief was produced by the
chiaro scuro in this piece, that the fingers seemed to
shoot forward, and the thunderbolt to be out of the
picture. Elis Venus was esteemed the most
exquisite figure which the pencil could create: it is
therefore extolled by the Roman poets Propertius and
Ovid ; and the poet of Sidon, Antipater, has left us
the following Greek epigram on it:
xvuSvop.'M'i ctKO udkoag ugh B-xXxrlxs
KvTrgiv AwsAAs/a pio%l)o> egx ygcttpidof,
£1; vhuU xxflxv
ExiXi'oet vohgav xipgoy xtfo
Avhci wv AQjivxit) n xut Hgn
“ Ovx ih rot pogQxg g^iv g^oui^x.'1'1
Anth. iv. 12.
Graceful as from her natal sea she springs,
’V enus, the labour of Apelles, view:
With pressing hand her humid locks she wrings,
While from her tresses drips the frothy dew:
Ev’n Juno and Minerva now declare,
“ ^ o longer we contend whose form’s most rare.”
APENE, in antiquity, a kind of chariot wherein
the images of the gods were carried in procession on
certain days, attended with a solemn pomp, songs,
hymns, dancing, &c. It was very rich, made some¬
times of ivory, or of silver itself, and variously deco¬
rated.
APENNINES, now the Apennine ; a mountain, or
ridge of mountains, running through the middle of Apenninu;
Italy, from north-west to south-west, for 700 miles, H
in the form of a crescent (Pliny) ; beginning at the ^pepsia.
Alps in Liguria, or the Rivierra di Genoa j and ter- ' ’ ^
minating at the strait of Messana, or at Reggio, and
the promontory Leucopetra j and separating, as by a
back or ridge, the Adriatic from the Tuscan sea
(Pliny, Strabo, Ptolemy, Polybius, Vitruvius). This
mountain, though high, is greatly short of the height
of the Alps. Its name is Celtic, signifying a high
mountain.
APENRADE, a town of Denmark in the duchy
of Sleswick, seated at the bottom of a gulf in the
Baltic sea, between Elensbourg and Hadaschleben. It
is 25 miles north from Sleswick. E.- Long. 9. 28.
N.Lat. 55.4.
APENZEL, a town of Switzerland, in the canton
of the same name, seated on the river Chus, E. Long.
9. 1. N. Lat. 47. 31. The canton itself, which was
allied to the others in 1513, consists only of three or
four valleys; having the town and abbey of St Gall on
the north ; the county of Toggenhurg on the west j
the lordship of Sax in the canton of Zurich, and that
of Gambs in the canton of Schweitz, on the south }
and the Rheinthall, or Rhine-valley, on the east. Its
greatest length is about thirty miles, and its breadth
about twenty. It yields good pasturage, and conse¬
quently is not destitute of cattle, milk, butter, or cheese.
Considerable quantities also of wheat, rye, barley, oats,
beans, pease, flax, and wine, are produced in it: be¬
sides a great deal of fruit, wood, and turf \ with mi¬
neral waters, and warm baths. There are many moun¬
tains in the canton, the highest of which is that called
the Hohesantis, or the Hohe Mesmer, which commands
a prospect of a prodigious extent. There are also se¬
veral lakes and rivers. The inhabitants, who are
partly Protestants, and partly Roman Catholics, subsist
chiefly by their manufactures of linen, crape, fustian,
and thread, or by bleaching, and the sale of their cat¬
tle, butter, cheese, horses, wood, and coal. Of the
twenty-three parishes in the canton, four are Popish,
and nineteen Protestant. Before the Reformation, the
inhabitants were subject to the abbot of St Gall $ but
they then shook off his yoke, and united themselves
with the other cantons : after that, however, there were
violent animosities between the Papists and Protestants,
the former continually persecuting the latter, till at
last, in 1587, by the mediation of the other cantons,
the two parties came to an accommodation, by which
certain districts were assigned to each party, whereas
before they lived promiscuously together : and though
these two divisions now constitute but one canton, yet
each forms a distinct community' or free state, sending
its particular representatives to the diets of the confe¬
deracy, and having its separate councils and officers.
In spirituals, the Papists are subject to the bishop of
Constance, but the Protestants to their own consistory.
The canton contains altogether 326 square miles, and
and 55,414 inhabitants.
APEPSIA, (from x negative, and vrtTrla, to digest),
indigestion.
Abstemiousness and excess are alike causes of indi¬
gestion. An over-distension of the stomach may in
some measure injure its proper tone ; and long fasting,
by inducing a bad quality in the juices secerned into
the!
A P H * [ 457 ] A P H
$pepsia
i! .
Luhasia.
the stomach, renders it feeble, and generates wind.
Hard drinking, and any of the causes of an anorexy,
also injure digestion.
The columbo root is said 'to be particularly useful
when the stomach is languid, the appetite defective,
digestion with difficulty carried on, or when a nausea
with flatulency attends. It is prescribed in substance,
with any grateful aromatic, or infused in Madeira wine,
now and then interposing gentle doses of the tincture of
rhubarb.
A mixture of mustard seed with the columbo x-oot is
of admirable utility in complaints of this kind ; parti¬
cularly where acidity and flatulence prevail much in
the primse vise.
APER, in Zoology, a synonyme of the sus scrofa.
See Sus.
APERIENTS, in the Materia Medico, an appella¬
tion given to such medicines as facilitate the circulation
of the humours by removing obstructions. The five
aperient roots of the shops are, smallage, fennel, aspa¬
ragus, parsley, and butchers broom.
APERTURE, the opening of any thing, or a hole
or cleft in any continuous object.
Aperture, in Geometry, the space between two
right lines which meet in a point and form an angle.
Aperture, in Optics, a round hole in a turned bit
of wood or plate of tin, placed within the side of a tele¬
scope or microscope, near to the object glass, by means
of which more rays are admitted, and a more distinct
appearance of the object is obtained.
Apertures, or Apertions, in Architecture, are used
to signify doors, windows, &c.
APETALOSE, or Apetalous, among botanists,
an appellation given to shell plants as have no flower
leaves.
APEX, the vertex or summit of any thing.
Apex, in antiquity, the crest of a helmet, but more
especially a kind of cap worn by the flamens.
Apex, among grammarians, denotes the mark of a
long syllable, falsely called a long accent.
APHACA, in Ancient Geography, the name of a
place in Syria, situated between Heliopolis and Byblus,
near Lebanon j infamous for a temple of Venus, called
Aphacetis, near which was a lake, round which fire
usually burst forth, and its waters were so heavy, that
bodies floated on them. The temple was destroyed by
Constantine, as being a school of incontinence, (Eu¬
sebius). The name is of Syriac origin, signifying em¬
braces.
APHiERESIS, in Grammar, a figure by which a
letter or syllable is cut off from the beginning of a word.
Thus ciconia, by aphseresis, is written conia ; contem-
nere, temnere; omittere, mittere, &c.
A like retrenchment at the end of a word is called
APOCOPE.
APHiERESis, in Medicine, denotes a necessary taking
away or removal of something that is noxious.—-In sur¬
gery, it signifies an operation whereby something super¬
fluous is taken away.
APHANES, Parsley Root. See Botany Index.
APHASIA, (from et, and (p-npi, “ I speak,”) in the
sceptic philosophy, denotes a state of doubt, wherein
a person not knowing what to determine on, it is best
for him to he silent. In this sense, aphasia stands op-
Vol. II. Part II. f
posed to phasis, under which are included both asser- Aphasia
tion and negation. ji
APHEK, the name of several cities mentioned in Aphis.
Scripture. I. Aphek, in the tribe of Judah, where the
Philistines encamped when the ark was brought from
Shiloh, which was taken by them in battle, I Sam. iv.
i, 2, &c. It is thought to be the same with Aphekah
mentioned in Josh. xv. 53. 2. Aphek in the valley of
Jezreel, where the Philistines encamped while Saul and
his army were near Jezreel, upon the mountains of Gil-
boa, Sam. xxix. 1, &c. 3. Aphek, a city belonging
to the tribe of Asher, near the country of the Sidonians $
(Josh. xix. 30. and xiii. 4.). 4. Aphek, a city of Syria,
one of the principal in Benhadad’s kingdom, near
which the battle was fought .between Ahab and Benba-
dad, wherein the Syrians were worsted j and whereof,
as they retreated with precipitation into the city, the
walls fell upon them, and crushed in pieces 27,000
(1 Kings xx. 26. et seqd). This city lay between Heli¬
opolis &nd Byblus.
APHELIUM, or Aphelion, in Astronomy, is that
point in any planet’s orbit, in which it is farther di¬
stant from the sun, being that end of the greater axis
of the elliptical orbit of the planet most remote from
the focus where the sun is.
APHIOM, Karahissart, a town of Natolia, in
Asiatic Turkey ; it is named Aphiom, because it pro¬
duces a great deal of opium, called aphiom by the
Turks. E. Long. 30. 26. N. Lat. 38. 35.
APHIS, the Puceron, Vine-fretter, or Plant-
louse. See Entomology Index.
Linnoeus enumerates 33 species of the aphis, all of
them inhabitants of particular plants, from which their
trivial names are taken j as aphis ribi, ulmi, rosce, &c.
And he adds, that there seems to be a greater va¬
riety of plants producing aphides than there are dif¬
ferent sorts of this insect. But some late observers have
been able to distinguish more than double the above
number of species; and it is probable that many more
remain still to be added, as many of the same kind of
plants are found to support two or three quite different
sorts of aphides. Thus the plum tree has two sorts
very distinct from each other j one of a yellowish green,
with a round short body; the other of a bluish green,
as it were enamelled with white, and the shape more
oblong. On the gooseberry bush and currant the same
aphides may he found; but each of these is inhabited
by two very different species : the one being of a dusky
green, with a short plump body; the other of paler
green, the body more taper, and transversely wrink¬
led. The rose tree, again, supports not less than three
distinct species : the largest is of a deep green, having
long legs of a brownish cast, with the joints of a very
dark brown, as also are the horns and antennaea se¬
cond sort is of a paler green, has much shorter legs, and
a more flat body j the third sort is of a pale red, its
body transversely wrinkled, and is most frequently on
the sweet-briar.
The extraordinary nature of, these insects has for
some time past justly excited the wonder and atten¬
tion of naturalists. They were long ranked among
the animals which had been classed with the true an¬
drogynes spoken of by Mr Breynius ; for having never
been catched copulating, it was hastily concluded that
3 M they
A P H [4.
Apliis. they multiplied without copulation. This, however,
i—was but a doubt, or at best a mere surmise : but this
surmise was believed and adopted by Air Reaumur j and
though he supported it by some observations peculiar to
himself, the question remained still undecided, till Mr
Ronnet seemed to have cleared it up in the affirmative,
by taking and shutting up a young aphis at the instant
of its birth, in the most perfect solitude, which yet
brought forth in his sight 95 young ones. The same
experiment being made on one of the individuals of
this family, that had been tried with its chief, the
new hermit soon multiplied like its parent} and one of
this third generation, in like manner brought up in
solitude, proved no less fruitful than the former. Re¬
peated experiments, in this respect, as far as the fifth
or sixth generation, all uniformly presenting the obser¬
ver with fecund virgins, were communicated to the
Royal Academy of Sciences 5 when an unforeseen and
very strange suspicion, imparted by Mr Trembley to Air
Bonnet engaged him anew in a series of still more
painful experiments than the foregoing. In a letter
which that celebrated observer wrote to him from the
Hague, the 27th January 1741, he thus expresses him¬
self: “ I formed, since the month of November, the
design of rearing several generations of solitary puce-
rons, in order to see if they would all equally bring
forth young. In cases so remote from usual circum¬
stances, it is allowed to try all sorts of means 5 and I
argued with myself, AArho knows but that one copula¬
tion might serve for several generations ?” This “ who
knows,^ to be sure, was next to avouching nothing ;
but as it came from Air Trembley, it was sufficient to
persuade Mr Bonnet that he had not gone far enough
% in his investigation. If the fecundity of aphides was
owing to the secret copulation suggested by Air Trem¬
bley ; this copulation served at least five or more succes¬
sive generations. Mr Bonnet therefore reared to the
amount of the tenth generation of solitary aphides,
and had the patience to keep an account of the days
and hours of the births of each generation. In short
it was discovered, That they are really distinguished by
sexes : That there are males and females amongst them,
whose amours are the least equivocal of any in the
world : that the males are produced only in the tenth
generation, and are but few in number : that these,
soon arriving at their full growth, copulate with the
females : that the virtue of this copulation serves for
ten generations : that all these generations, except
the first, (from the fecundated eggs), are produced vi¬
viparous 5 and all the individuals are females, except
those of the last generation, among whom, as we have
already observed, some males make their appearance
to lay the foundation of a fresh series.—These circum¬
stances have been confirmed by other naturalists. In
particular we have a curious and accurate detail of
them by Dr Richardson of Rippon, in the Philosophi-
. cal Transactions, vol. xi. art. 22. an extract of which
we shall here insert, in order to give the reader as full
an insight into the nature of these singular insects, as
can be done by a mere detail of facts in themselves ut¬
terly unaccountable.
“ The great variety of species which occur in the
insects now under consideration, may make an inquiry
into their particular nature seem not a little perplexed j
having them, however, skilfully reduced under their pro-
3
8 ] A P H
per genus, the difficulty is by this means considerably
diminished. All the insects comprehended under any -y—
distinct genus, we may reasonably suppose to partake
of one general nature ; and, by diligently examining
any of the particular species, may thence gain some in¬
sight into the nature of all the rest. \A ith this view
I have chosen, out of the various sorts of, aphides, the
largest of those found on the rose tree •, not only as its
size makes it the more conspicuous, but as there are
few others of so long a duration. This sort appearing
early in the spring, continues late in the autumn •, while
several are limited to a much shorter term, in conformi¬
ty to the different trees and plants from whence they
draw their nourishment.
1. “ If at the beginning of February the weather
happens to be so warm as to make the buds of the rose
tree swell and appear green j small aphides are frequent¬
ly to be found upon them, not larger than the young
ones in summer when first produced. But there being
no old ones to be found at this time of the year, which
in summer I had observed to be viviparous, I was for¬
merly not a little perplexed by such appearances, and
almost induced to give credit to the old doctrine of
equivocal generation. That the same kind of animal
should at one time of the year be viviparous, and at
another time oviparous, was an opinion I could then by
no means entertain. This, however, frequent observa¬
tion has at last convinced me to be fact 5 having found
those aphides which appear early in the spring, to pro¬
ceed from small black oval eggs, which were deposited
on the last year’s shoots in autumn } though when it
happens that the insects make too early an appearance,
I have observed the greatest part to suffer from the sharp
weather that usually succeeds, by which means the rose
trees are some years in a manner freed from them.
“ Those which withstand the severity of the weather
seldom come to their full growth before the month of
April j at which time they usually begin to breed, af¬
ter twice casting off their exuviae or outward covering.
It appears then that they are all females, which pro¬
duce each of them a very numerous progeny, and that
without having intercourse with any male insect. As
1 observed before, they are viviparous ; and what is
equally uncommon, the young ones all come into the
world backwards. When they first come from the pa¬
rent they are enveloped by a thin membrane, having
in this situation the appearance of an oval egg j which,
I apprehend, must have induced Reaumur to suspect
that the eggs discovered by Bonnet were nothing more
than mere abortions. These egg-like appearances ad¬
here by one extremity to the mother ; while the young
ones contained in them extend the other; by that
means gradually drawing the ruptured membrane over
the head and body to the hind feet. During this ope¬
ration, and for some time after, by means of some¬
thing glutinous, the fore part of the head adheres to
the vent of the parent. Being thus suspended in the
air, it soon frees itself from the membrane in which it
was confined, and after its limbs are a little strengthen¬
ed, is set down on some tender shoot, and then left to
provide for itself.
2. “ In the spring months, there appear on the rose
trees but two generations of aphides, including those
which immediately proceed from the last year’s eggs j
the warmth of the summer adds so much to their ferti-
A P H [ 459 ] A P H
Aphis, lity, that no less than five generations succeed one ano-
—v——' ther in the interval. One is produced in May, which
casts off its covering j while the months of June and
July each supply two more, which cast off their coverings
three or four times, according to the different warmth
of the season. The frequent change of the outward co¬
vering is the more extraordinary, as it is the oftenest re¬
peated when the insects come the soonest to their growth j
which I have sometimes observed to happen in ten days,
where warmth and plenty of nourishment have mutually
conspired. From which considerations I am thoroughly
convinced that these various coverings are not connate
with the insect} but that they are, like the scarf skin,
successively produced.
“ Early in the month of June, some of the third ge¬
neration which were produced about the middle of May,
after casting off their last covering, discover four erect
wings, much longer than their bodies $ and the same is
observable in all the succeeding generations, which are
produced during the summer months j without, however,
distinguishing any diversity of sex, as is usual in several
other kinds of insects. For some time before the aphides
come to their full growth, it is easy to discover which of
them will have wings, by a remarkable fullness of the
breast, which, in the others, is hardly to be distinguish¬
ed from the body. When the last covering is rejected,
the wings, which were before folded up in a very narrow
compass, gradually extend themselves in a most surpri¬
sing manner, till their dimensions are at last very con¬
siderable. But these winged ones have the peculiarity,
that the number of them does not seem so much to de¬
pend on their original structure, as on the quantity or
quality of the nourishment with which they are sup¬
plied 5 it being frequently observed, that those on a
succulent shoot have few or none with wings among
them, while others of the same generation, on a less
tender branch, are most of them winged $ as if only
the first rudiments of wings were composed in the for¬
mer, while nature thought proper to expand them in
the latter, that they might be more at liberty to supply
their wants.
“ The increase of these insects in the summer time
is so very great, that, by wounding and exhausting the
tender shoots, they would frequently suppress all vege¬
tation, had they not many enemies which restrain them.
To enumerate the variety of other insects that in their
worm and fly state are constantly destroying them,
would exceed the bounds of the present design: there
is one, however, so singular in the manner of executing
its purpose, that I cannot pass by it without some fur¬
ther notice. This is a very small black ichneumon
fly, with a slender body and very long antennae, which
darts its pointed tail into the bodies of the aphides, at
the same time depositing an egg in each. This egg
produces a worm which feeds upon the containing in¬
sect till it attains its full growth $ when it is usual¬
ly changed to that kind of fly from whence it came.
In this, however, it is sometimes prevented by ano¬
ther sort of small black fly, which wounds this worm
through its pearl-like habitation $ and by laying one
of its eggs therein, instead of the former fly, produces
its own likeness. I must, however, further observe,
notwithstanding these insects have many enemies, they
are not without friends; if we may consider those as
such who are very officious in their attendance, for the
good things they expect to to reap thereby. The ant
and the bee are both of this kind, collecting the honey
in which the aphides abound : but with this difference,
that the ants are constant visitors, the bee only when
flowers are scarce. To which let me also add, that the
ants will suck in the delicious nectar while the aphides
are in the act of discharging it from the anus; but the
bees only collect it from the leaves on which this honey
dew has fallen.
3. “ In the autumn I find three more generations of
aphides to be produced; two of which make their ap¬
pearance in the month of August, and the third usual¬
ly appears before the middle of September. As the two
first difler in no respect from those which we meet with
in summer, it would be wasting time to dwell any long¬
er upon them ; but the third differing greatly from all
the rest, demands our giving it a more serious atten¬
tion. Though all the aphides which have hitherto ap¬
peared were females, in this tenth generation are found
several male insects ; not that they are by any means so
numerous as the females, being only produced by a small
number of the former generation. To which I must
further add, that I have observed those which produ¬
ced males, previously to have produced a number of
females; which in all respects resembling those already
described, I shall decline taking into any further con¬
sideration.
“ The females have at first altogether the same ap¬
pearance with those of the former generations ; but
in a few days their colour changes from a green to a
yellow, which is gradually converted into an orange
colour before they come to their full growth. They
differ likewise in another respect, at least from those
which occur in the summer, that all those yellow fe¬
males are without wings. The male insects are, howr-
ever, still more remarkable; their outward appearance
readily distinguishing them from the females of this and
of all other generations. When first produced, they
are not of a green colour like the rest, but of a red¬
dish brown ; and have afterwards, when they begin
to thicken about the breast, a dark line along the mid¬
dle of the back. These male insects come to their full
growth in about three weeks time, and then cast off
their last covering; the whole insect being, after this
operation, of a bright yellow colour, the wings only
excepted. But after this they soon change to a darker
yellow; and in a few hours to a very dark brown ; if
we except the body, which is something lighter colour¬
ed, and has a reddish cast. They are of the winged
sort; and the wings, which are white at first, soon be¬
come transparent, and at length appear like very fine
black gauze.
“ The males no sooner come to maturity than they
copulate with the females ; in which act they are rea¬
dily discovered, as they remain in conjunction for a
considerable time, and are not easily disturbed. The
commerce between them continues the whole month of
October, and may be observed at all times of the day,
though I have found it most frequent about noon;
especially when the weather is moderately warm, and
the sun overcast. The females, in a day or two after
their intercourse with the males, I have observed to
lay their eggs; which they usually do near the buds,
when they are left to their own choice. "Where there
are a number crowded together, they of course inter-
3 M 2 fere
A P H [ 460 ] API
Apliis fei’e with each other: in which case they wrill frequent-
II. . ly deposite their eggs on other parts of the branches, or
■tp irodivia. even on ^|ie SpJnes wJ(;h which they are beset.”
These insects are found*in great numbers not only on
the stems and leaves, but even upon roots of many trees
and plants. Those trees that are most loaded with the
insects, as already observed, suffer greatly from them.
The plant-lice thrust their sharp-pointed rostrum into the
substance of the leaf to draw out their sustenance, which
warps the stems and leaves, and occasions in the latter
cavities underneath, and swellings above ; nay, even in
some, a kind of hollow gall filled with insects, as is of¬
ten seen on elm leaves.
It appears astonishing that the slight puncture of so
small an animal should so greatly disfigure a plant ;
but it must be remembered, that plant-lice always live
in numerous associations, which increase visibly by the
prodigious fruitfulness of those insects^ so that although
each puncture be slight, yet the number of them is so
great, so reiterated, that it is no longer a wonder the
leaves should be disfigured. Lovers of gardening and
plants are extremely anxious to free and cleanse their
trees from this vermine j but their care often proves
unavailing, the insect is so fruitful that it soon produ¬
ces a fresh colony. The best and surest method of ex¬
tirpating it is to put on the trees infested with them
some larvae of the plant-louse lion, or aphidivorous flies j
for those voracious larvae destroy every day a great
number of the insects, and that with so much the "more
facility, as the latter remain quiet and motionless in the
neighbourhood of those dangerous enemies, who range
over heaps of plant-lice, which they gradually waste and
diminish.
APHLASIUM, in the ancient navigation, a wood¬
en ornament, shaped like a plume of feathers, fastened
on the goose’s or swan’s neck used by the ancient
Greeks in the heads of their ships. The aphlastum had
much the same office and effect in a ship that the crest
had on the helmet. It seems also to have had this fur¬
ther use, viz. by the waving of a party-coloured ribband
fastened to it, to indicate from what quarter the wind
blew.
# APHONIA, among physicians, signifies a suppres¬
sion or total loss of voice. It is never a primary disease;
but a consequence of many different disorders. The
cure is to be effected by removing the disorder from
whence the aphonia proceeds.
AI HORISM, a maxim or principle of a science j
or a sentence which comprehends a great deal in a few
words. The word comes from x(po^u, I separate;
q. d. a choice or select sentence. The term is chiefly
used in medicine and law'. We say the aphorisms of
Hippocrates, pf Sanctorius, of Boerhaave, &c. apho¬
risms of the civil law, &e.
APHRACTI, in the ancient military art, denotes
open vessels, without decks or hatches, furnished only at
head and stern with cross planks, whereon the men stood
to fight.
APHRGDISIA, in antiquity, festivals kept in ho¬
nour of Venus, the most remarkable of which was that
celebrated by the Cyprians. At this solemnity several
mysterious rites were practised: all who were*initiated
to them oflered a piece of money to Venus as a har¬
lot, and received as a token of the goddess’s favour a
measure of salt, and a (pasAAes} the former, because salt
is a concretion of sea water, to which Venus was thought
to owe her birth; the latter, because she was the god¬
dess of wantonness.
APHRODISIACS, among physicians, medicines
which were supposed to increase the quantity of semen
and create an inclination to venery.
APHRQDITA. See Helminthology Index.
AX IIliODI. i L, in Mythology, a name of Venus,
derived from froth ; because, according to the
poets, Venus is supposed to have been produced from
the froth or foam of the sea.
Ai HRONi 1 RE, in Hatural History, a name given
by the ancients to a particular kind of natrum.
AI IIIHEE, in Medicine, small, round, and super¬
ficial ulcers arising in the mouth. See Medicine
Index.
APHTHARTODOCETiE, a sect, sworn ene¬
mies ol the council of Chalcedon. The w'ord is deri¬
ved from incorruptible, and Jmai, I imagine ;
and was given them, because they imagined the body
ol Jesus Christ was incorruptible and impassible, and not
capable of death. They arose among the Eutychians,
and made their appearance in the year 53 c.
APHYLLANTHES, Leafless Flower, or
Blue Montpelier pink. See Botany Index.
APIARY, a place where bees are kept. See the
article Bee. See also Apiary, Supplement.
APIASTER, in Ornithology, the trivial name of a
species of the merops. See Merops, Ornithology
Index.
APICES, in Botany, the same with Anthers.
APIC1US. There were at Rome three of that
name, famous for their gluttony. The second is the
most celebrated of the three. He lived under Tiberius,
spent immense sums on his belly, and invented divers
sorts ol cakes which bore his name. He kept as it were
a school of gluttony at Rome. After having spent two
millions and a hall in entertainments, finding himself
very much in debt, he examined into the state of his
affairs; and seeing that he had but 250,000 livres re¬
maining, he poisoned himself, out of apprehension of
starving with such a sum. He had prostituted himself
when very young to Sejanus.
APINA, or Apince, a town of Apulia, built by Dio-
medes, as was also Tricae (Pliny). Apince and Tricce
is a proverbial saying for things trifling and of no value
(Martial) ; and Apinarii was the appellation for triflers
or buffoons, (Trebellius Pollio).
APION, a famous grammarian, born in Egypt, was
a professor at Rome in the reign of Tiberius. He had
all the arrogance of a mere pedant, and amused himself
with difficult and insignificant inquiries. One of his
principal works are his Antiquities of Egypt.
APIS, in Mythology, a divinity worshipped by the
ancient Egyptians at Memphis. It was an ox, having
certain exterior marks ; in which animal the soul of the
great Osiris was supposed to subsist. The animal had
the preference to all others, as being the symbol of a-
griculture, the improvement of which that prince had
so much at heart.
According to several learned writers on the Egyp¬
tian religion, Apis was only a symbolical deity. “ A-
mongst the animals consecrated to ancient rites (says
Ammianns Marcellinus), Mnevis and Apis are the most
celebrated; the first is an emblem of the sun, the se¬
cond
API [ 461 ] API
contl of the moon.” Porphyry tells us, that Apis bore
the characteristic signs of the two stars j and Macrobius,
who confirms this opinion, adds, that he was equally
consecrated to them both.
This bull, become the object of public adoration, it
may he supposed, could not be born like other animals j
accordingly the priests published that his origin was
celestial. “ An Apis is seldom born, (says Pomponius
Mela.) He is not produced by the ordinary laws oi
generation. The Egyptians say he owes his birth to
celestial hre.” Plutarch explains this passage : “ The
priests pretend that the moon diftuses a generative in¬
fluence, and as soon as a cow who takes the bull is
struck by it, she conceives an Apis. Accordingly we
discover in him the signs of that star.
Such were the fables industriously spread by those
who presided over the divine institutions. Ihe vulgar,
to whom this emblematical deity presaged abundance,
received them eagerly, and implicitly believed them.
Pliny has described the characters which distinguished
this sacred bull: “ A white spot, resembling a cres¬
cent, on the right side, and a lump under the tongue,
were the distinguishing marks of Apis.” When a cow,
therefore, which was thought to be struck with the
rays of the moon, produced a calf, the sacred guides
went to examine it, and if they found it conlormable to
this description, they announced to the people the birth
of Apis, and fecundity.
“ Immediately (says iElian) they built a temple to
the new god, facing the rising sun, according to the
precepts of Mercury, where they nourished him with
milk for four months. This term expired, the priests
repaired in pomp to his habitation, and saluted him by
the name of Apis. They then placed him in a vessel
magnificently decorated, covered with rich tapestry,
and resplendent with gold, and conducted him to Nilo-
polis, singing hymns, and burning perfumes, ihere
they kept him for forty days. During this space of
time, women alone had permission to see him, and sa¬
luted him in a particular manner. After the inaugu¬
ration of the god, in this city, he was conveyed to
Memphis with the same retinue, followed by an innu¬
merable quantity of boats sumptuously decked out.
There they completed the ceremonies ot his inaugura¬
tion, and he became sacred to all the world. Apis was
superbly lodged, and the place where he lay was my¬
stically called the bed. Strabo having visited his pa¬
lace, thus describes it : “ The edifice where Apis is
kept, is situated near the temple of Vulcan. He is fed
in a sacred apartment, before which is a large court.
The house in which they keep the cow that produced
him, occupies one of its sides. Sometimes, to satisfy
the curiosity of strangers, they make him go out into
this court. One may see him at all times through a
window ; but the priests produce him also to public
view.” Once a year (says Solinus) they present a hei¬
fer to him, and the same day they kill her.
A bull, born in so marvellous a manner, must be
possessed of supernatural knowledge. Accordingly the
priests published, that he predicted future events by
gestures, by motions, and other ways, which they con¬
strued according to their fancy. “ Apis (says i iui))
has two temples called Ideds^ which served as an auguiy
for the people. When they come to consult him, it
he enters into a particular one, it is a favourable pre¬
ss.
sage, and fatal if he passes into the other. He gives
answers to individuals by taking food from their hands. ’ -v—
He refused that offered him by Germanicus, who died
soon after.” It would be unjust to conclude, that this
respectable writer gave credit to such auguries. He
relates the opinion of the Egyptians, and contents
himself with citing facts without offering his judge¬
ment.
Such was the installation of Apis. His anniversary
was always celebrated for seven days. The people as¬
sembled to offer sacrifices to him, and what is extraor¬
dinary, oxen were immolated on the occasion. This
solemnity did not pass without prodigies. Ammianus
Marcellinus, who has collected the testimonies of the
ancients, relates them in these words : “ During the
seven days in which the priests of Memphis celebrate
the birth of Apis, the crocodiles forget their natural fe¬
rocity, hecome gentle, and do no harm to anybody.”
This bull, however, so honoured, must not exceed
a mysterious term fixed for his life. “ Apis (says
Pliny) cannot live beyond a certain number of years.
When he has attained that period they drown him in
the fountain of the priests} for it is not permitted,
adds Ammianus Marcellinus, to let him prolong his
life beyond the period prescribed for him by the sacred
books.” When this event happened, he was embalm¬
ed, and privately let down into the subterraneous places
destined for that purpose. In this circumstance, the
priests announced that Apis had disappeared j but when
he died a natural death, before this period arrived, they
proclaimed his death, and solemnly conveyed his body
to the temple of Serapis.
“ At Memphis was an ancient temple of Serapis
which strangers were forbidden to approach, and where
the priests themselves only entered when Apis was in¬
terred. It was then (says Plutarch) that they opened
the gates called Lethe and Cocythe (of oblivion and la¬
mentation), which made a harsh and piercing sound.”
Ammianus Marcellinus, and Solinus, paint with great
energy the general despair of the Egyptians, who with
cries and lamentations demanded another Apis from
heaven.
According to Plutarch, the term prescribed for the
life of Apis was 25 years j which number marked a
period of the sun and of the moon, and the bull was
consecrated to these two bodies. Syncellius, in ^ Ins
Chronography, when he comes down to the 3 2d Pha-
roah, called Aseth, says, “ before Aseth, the solar year
consisted of 360 days. This prince added five to com¬
plete its course. In his reign a calf was placed amongst
the gods, and named Apis.'1'’ And in the Bibliotheca
of Fabricius we have the following passage : “ It was
customary to inaugurate the kings of rigypt at Mem¬
phis, in the temple of Apis. They were here first ini¬
tiated in the mysteries, and were religiously invested 5
after which they were permitted to bear the yoke of
the god through the town to a place called the Sanctuary,
the entrance of which was prohibited. to the profane.
There they were obliged to swear that they would nei¬
ther insert months nor days in the year, and that it
should remain composed of 365 days, as had been esta¬
blished by the ancients.” From these facts, Mr Sava-
ry, in his Letters on Egypt, infers, that Apis was the
tutelar divinity of the new form given to the solar
year, and of the cycle of 25 years, discovered at the
* same
A P O [ 462 ] A P O
Apis same time. This deity, besides, had a marked x-ela-
li tion to the swelling of the Nile, as is testified by a great
Apobate- number of historians. The new moon which followed
u^n‘ . the summer solstice, was the era of this phenomenon,
on which the eyes of every body were fixed : And
Pliny speaks as follows on this subject: “ Apis had on
his right side a white mark, representing the crescent:
This mark (continues ./Elian) indicated the commence¬
ment of the inundation.” If Apis possessed the cha¬
racteristic signs which proved his divine origin, he
promised fertility and abundance of the fruits of the
earth. It seems demonstrated, therefore, Mr Savary
adds, that this sacred bull, the guardian of the solar
year of 365 days, was also regarded as the genius who
presided over the overflowing of the river. The priests,
by fixing the course of his life to 25 years, and by ma¬
king the installation of a new Apis concur with the
renewal of the period above mentioned, had probably
perceived, as the result of long meteorological observa¬
tions, that this revolution always brought about abun¬
dant seasons. Nothing was better calculated to pro¬
cure a favourable reception of this emblematical deity
from the people, since his birth was a presage to them
of a happy inundation, and of all the treasures of teem¬
ing nature.
The solemnity of his inauguration was called Appa¬
rition. That which was renewed every year towards
the 12th or 13th of the month Payn, which corre¬
sponds with the 17th or 18th of June, was called the
birth oj Apis. It was a time of rejoicing, which ./Elian
describes in the following manner : “ What festivals !
what sacrifices take place in Egypt at the commence¬
ment of the inundation ! It is then that all the people
celebrate the birth of Apis. It would be tedious to
describe the dances, the rejoicings, the shows, the ban¬
quets, to which the Egyptians abandon themselves on
this occasion, and impossible to express the intoxication
of joy which breaks forth in all the towns of the king¬
dom.”
These observations Mr Savary thinks further con¬
firmed by the name of this respectable bull; Apis, in
the Egyptian tongue, signifying number, measure.
This epithet perfectly characterizes an animal esta¬
blished as the guardian of the solar year, the type of
the cycle of 25 years, and the presage of a favourable
inundation.
Monsieur Huet, bishop of Avranches, has endea¬
voured to prove that Apis was a symbolical image of
the patriarch Joseph, and has supported his opinion
with all his erudition. Dr Bryant apprehends that the
name of Apis was an Egyptian term for a father ; that
it referred to the patriarch Noah $ and that the cres¬
cent which was usually marked on the side of the ani¬
mal, was a representation of the ark.
Apis, or Bee. See Entomology Index, and Bee.
APIUM, Parsley. See Botany Index.
APIVOROUS, in Ornithology, a synonyme of a spe-
cies of falco. See Falco, Ornithology Index.
APLUDA. See Botany Index.
APOBATANA, the metropolis of Media, and
where the kings kept their treasure (Tsiodorus Chara-
cenus) 5 supposed to be the same with Ecbatana.
APOBATERION, in antiquity, a valedictory
speech or poem made by a person on departing out of
own country, and addressed to his friends or rela- Apobate
tions. rj0I1
APOBATHRA, a place near Sestos (Strabo) ; H
the landing place where Xerxes’s ships were frozen AP°ca-
and stuck in the ice (Eustathius). . ]ypse'
APOCALYPSE, Revelation, the name of one v ”
of the sacred books of the New Testament, containing
revelations concerning several important doctrines of
Chi’istianity. The word is Greek, and derived from
(C7rcx,ocXv7!:rea, to reveal or discover.
This book, according to Irenaeus, rvas written a-
bout the year 96 of Christ, in the island of Patmos,
whither St John had been banished by the emperor
Domitian. But Sir Isaac Newton places the writing
of it earlier, viz. in the time of Nero. Some attri¬
bute this book to the arch-heretic Cerinthus: but the
ancients unanimously ascribed it to John, the son of
Zebedee, and brother of James; whom the Greek fa¬
thers called the Divine, by way of eminence, to distin¬
guish him from the other evangelists. This book has
not, at all times, been esteemed canonical. There
were many churches in Greece, as St Jerome informs
us, which did not x’eceive it: neither is it in the cata¬
logue of canonical books prepared by the council of
Laodicea, nor in that of St Cyril of Jerusalem: but
Justin, Irenseus, Origen, Cyprian, Clemens of Alex¬
andria, Tertullian, and all the fathers of the fourth,
fifth, and the following centuries, quote the Revela¬
tion as a book then acknowledged to be canonical.
The Alogians, Marcionites, Cerdonians, and Luther
himself, rejected this book : but the Protestants have
forsaken Luther in this particular; and Beza has
strongly maintained against his objections, that the A-
pocalypse is authentic and canonical.
The Apocalypse consists of twenty-two chapters.
The three fh’st are an instruction to the bishops of the
seven churches of Asia Minor. The fifteen following
chapters contain the persecutions which the church was
to suffer from the Jews, heretics, and Roman empe¬
rors. Next St John prophesies of the vengeance of
God, which he will exeixise against those persecutors,
against the Roman empire, and the city of Rome j
which, as the Protestants suppose, he describes under
the name of Babylon the great whore, seated upon
seven hills. In the last place, the 19th, 20th, 21st, and
22d chapters, describe the triumph of the church over
its enemies, the marriage of the Lamb, and the happi¬
ness of the church triumphant.
“ It is a part of this prophecy (says Sir Isaac New¬
ton), that it should not be understood before the last age
of the world $ and therefore it makes for the credit of
the prophecy, that it is not yet understood. The folly
of interpreters has been to foretel times and things
by this prophecy, as if God designed to make them
prophets. By this rashness they have not only exposed
themselves, but brought the prophecy also into con¬
tempt. The design of God was much otherwise : He
gave this and the prophecies of the Old Testament,
not to gratify men’s curiosities, by enabling them to
foreknow things; but that, after they were fulfilled,
they might be interpreted by the events $ and his own
providence, not the interpreters, be then manifested
thereby to the world. And there is already so much
of the prophecy fulfilled, that as many as will take
pains
t
Apocalypse
Apocrypha.
A P O [4
pains in this study, may see sufficient instances of God’s
providence.
There have been several other works published un¬
der the title of Apocalypses. Sozomen mentions a
book used in the churches of Palestine, called the A-
pocalypse or Revelation of St Peter. He also men¬
tions an Apocalypse of St Paul : which the Coph-
tse retain to this day. Eusebius also speaks of both
these Apocalypses. St Epiphanius mentions an Apo¬
calypse of Adam •, Nicephorus, an Apocalypse of Es-
dras : Gratian and Cedrenus, an Apocalypse of Moses,
another of St Thomas, and another of St Stephen $
St Jerome, an Apocalypse of Elias. Porphyry, in his
life of Plotin, makes mention of the Apocalypse or Re¬
velations of Zoroaster, Zostrian, Nicothaeus, Allo-
genes, &c.
APOCOPE, among grammarians, a figure which
cuts off a letter or syllable from the end of a word 5 as
ingeni for ingenii.
APOCRISARIUS, in ecclesiastical antiquity, a sort
of resident in an imperial city, in the name of a foreign
church or bishop, whose office was to negotiate, as proc¬
tor at the emperor’s court, in all ecclesiastical causes in
which his principals might be concerned. T-he insti¬
tution of the office seems to have been in the time of
Constantine, or not long after, when, the emperors
being become Christians, foreign churches had more
occasions to promote their suits at court than formerly.
However, we find it established by law in the time of
Justinian. In imitation of this officer, almost every
monastery had its Apocrisarius, or resident, in the im¬
perial city.
The title and quality of Apocrisary became at length
appropriated to the pope’s agent, or nuncio, as he is now
called •, who resided at Constantinople, to receive the
pope’s despatches, and the emperor’s answers. The
word is formed from u.Ttox.q.ni't, to answer.
APOCRUSTICS, in Medicine, the same with re¬
pellents.
APOCRYPHA, or Apocryphal Books, suchbooks
as are not admitted into the canon of Scripture, being
either not acknowledged as divine, or considered as spu¬
rious. The word is Greek •, and derived from «7r«,
and to hide or conceal.
When the Jews published their sacred books, they
gave the appellations of canonical and divine only to
such as they then made public : such a« were still retain¬
ed in their archives they called apocryphal, for no other
reason but because they were not public 5 so that they
might be really sacred and divine, though not promul¬
gated as such.
Thus, in respect of the Bible, all books were called
apocryphal which were not inserted in the Jewish canon
of Scripture. Vossius observes, that, with regard to
the sacred books, none are to be accounted apocryphal,
except such as had neither been admitted into the syna¬
gogue nor the church, so as to be added to the canon,
and read in public.
The Protestants do not only reckon those books to
be apocryphal which are esteemed such in the church
of Rome, as the prayer of Manasseh king of Judah,
the third and fourth books of Esdras, St Barnabas’s
epistle, the book of Hermos, the addition at the end
of Job, and the 151st psalm j but also Tobit, Judith,
Esther, the book of Wisdom, Jesus the son of Sirach,
63 ] A P O
Baruch the prophet, the Song of the Three Children, Apocrypha
the History of Susannah, the History of Bel and the [)
Dragon, and the first and second books of the Macca- AP0^0815'.
bees.
It is now pretended that these books were not receiv¬
ed by the Jews, or so much as known to them. None
of the writers of the New Testament cite or mention
them : neither Philo nor Josephus speak of them. The
Christian church was for some ages an utter stranger
to these books.' Origen, Athanasius, Hillary, Cyril of
Jerusalem, and all the orthodox writers, who have given
catalogues of the canonical books of Scripture, unani¬
mously concur in rejecting these out of the canon. And
for the New Testament, they are divided in their opi¬
nions, whether the epistle to the Hebrews, the epistle
of St James, and the second epistle of St Peter, the
second and third epistles of St John, the epistle of St
Jude, and the Revelation, are to be acknowledged as
canonical or not.
The Protestants acknowledge such books of Scripture
only to be canonical as were so esteemed to be in the
first ages of the church; such as are cited by the earliest
writers among the Christians as of divine authority, and
after the most diligent inquiry were received and so
judged to be bv the council of Laodicea. The several
epistles above mentioned, and the book of Revelation,
whatever the sentiments of some particular persons are
or may have been of them, are allowed by all the re¬
formed churches to be parts of the canon of the New
Testament.
The apocryphal books, however, according to the
sixth article of the church of England, are to be read
for example of life and instruction of manners j but it
doth not apply them to establish any doctrine.
APOCYNUM. See Dogs-bane, Botany Index.
APODECTJE, in antiquity, a denomination gi¬
ven to ten general receivers appointed by the Athe¬
nians to receive the public revenues, taxes, debts,
and the like. The apodectae had also a power to de¬
cide controversies arising in relation to money and
taxes, all but those of the most difficult nature and
highest concern, which were reserved to the courts of
judicature.
APODECTJEI, in the Athenian government, of¬
ficers appointed to see that the measures of corn were
just. •
APODES, in a general sense, denotes things with¬
out feet. Zoologists apply the name to a fabulous sort
of birds, said to be found in some of the islands of the
new world, which, being entirely without feet, support¬
ed themselves on the branches of trees by their crooked
bills.
Abodes, in the Linnsean system, the name of the first
order of fishes, or those which have no belly fins. See
Ichthyology Index.
APODICTICAL, among philosophers, a term im¬
porting a demonstrative proof, or systematical method
of teaching.
APODOS1S, in Rhetoric, makes the third part of
a complete exordium, being properly the application
or restriction of the protasis. The apodosis is the same
with what is otherwise called axiosis; and stands op¬
posed to protasis : e. g. protasis, all branches of his¬
tory are necessary for a student j catescene, so that,
without these, he can never make any considerable fi¬
gure j
A P O [ 464 ] A P O
Apodosis gure *, apodosis, but literary history is of a more especial
II use, which recommends it, &c.
Apoihna- APODYTERIUM, in the ancient baths, the apart-
. , meats where persons dressed and undressed.
APOGEE, in Astronomy, that point in the orbit of
a planet which is at the greatest distance from the earth.
The apogee of the sun is that part of the earth’s orbit
which is at the greatest distance from the sun ; and con¬
sequently the sun’s apogee, and the earth’s aphelion, are
one and the same point.
APOL1DES, in antiquity, those condemned for life
to the public works, or exited into some island, and thus
divested of the privileges of Roman citizens.
APOLLINARIAN games, in Roman antiquitv,
were instituted in the year of Rome 542. The occa¬
sion was a kind of oracle delivered by the prophet Mar¬
cus after the fatal battle at Cannae, declaring that to
expel the enemy, and cure the people of an infectious
disease which then prevailed, sacred games were to be
annually performed in honour of Apollo ; the praetor
to have the direction of them, and the decemviri to of¬
fer sacrifices alter the Grecian rite. The senate ordered
that this oracle should be observed the rather, because
another of the same Marcus, wherein he had foretold
the overthrow at Cannae, had come true ; for this rea¬
son, they gave the praetor 12,000 ases out of the public
cash to defray the solemnity. There were sacrified an
ox to Apollo, as also two white goats, and a cow to
I^atona ; all with their horns gilt. Apollo had also a
collection made for him, besides what the people who
were spectators gave voluntarily. The first praetor by
whom they were held was P. Cornelius Sylla. For some
time they were moveable or indictive ; but at length
were fixed, under P. Licinius Varus, to the fifth of July,
and made perpetual. The men, who were spectators at
these games, wore garlands on their heads 5 the women
performed their devotions in the temples at the same
time, and at last they caroused together in the vestibules
ol their houses, the doors standing open. The Apolli-
narian games were merely scenical •, and at first only
observed with singing, piping, and other sorts of music j
but afterwards there were also introduced all manner of
mountebank tricks, dances, and the like : yet so as that
they still remained scenical; no chariot races, wrestling,
or the like laborious exercises of the body, beinc>- ever
practised at them.
APOLLINARIANS, Apollinarists, called also
by Epiphanius Dimaritce, ancient heretics, who denied
the proper humanity of Christ, and maintained that the
body which he assumed was endowed with a sensitive,
and not a rational, soul, but that the Divine Nature
supplied the place of the intellectual principle in man.
This sect derived its name from Apollinaris, bishop of
Eaodicea, in the fourth century.
I he Apollinarians have been charged with other
opinions, such as, the Millenarian and Sabellian, the
pre-existence of the body of Christ, and the passion of
his Deity ; but ecclesiastical writers are not agreed with
respect to these and other particulars. Their doctrine
was first condemned by a council of Alexandria in the
year 362, and afterwards in a more formal manner by
a council at Rome in 375 j and by another council in
378, which deposed Apollinaris from his bishopric.
Notwithstanding all, Ins doctrine spread through most
of the churches of the east: and his followers were sub¬
divided into various sects. In 388, The emperor Theo- Apoltinan
dosius enacted a law, forbidding them to hold assemblies, ~—v—
to have any ecclesiastics or bishops, or to dwell in cities.
The rigorous execution of this law, in concurrence with
the decrees of different councils, reduced them to a
very small number, and their doctrine had no long du¬
ration.
APOLLINARIS, Caius Sulpicius, a very learn¬
ed grammarian, born at Carthage, lived in the 2d cen¬
tury, under the Antonines •, he is supposed to be the au¬
thor of the verses which are prefixed to the comedies
of Terence, and contain the arguments of them. He
had for his successor in the profession of grammar Hel-
vius Pertinax, who had been his scholar, and was at last
emperor.
Apollinaris Sidonius, Cams Lollius, an eminent
Christian writer and bishop in the 5th century, was
born of a noble family in France. He was educated
under the best masters, and made a prodigious pro¬
gress in the several arts and sciences, but particularly
in poetry and polite literature. After he had left the
schools, he applied himself to the profession of war. He
married Papianilla, the daughter of Avitus, who was
consul, and afterwards emperor, by whom he had three
children. But Majorianus in the year 437 having de¬
prived Avitus of the empire, and taken the city of
Lyons, in which our author resided, Apollinaris fell
into the hands of the enemy. However, the reputation
of his learning softened Majorianus’s resentment, so
that he treated him with the utmost civility, in return
for which Apollinaris composed a panegyric in his ho¬
nour 5 which was so highly applauded, that he had a
statue erected to him at Rome, and was honoured with
the title of Count. In the year 467 the emperor An¬
themius rewarded him for the panegyric which he had
written in honour of him, by raising him to the post of
governor of Rome, and afterwards to the dignity of a
patrician and senator, and erecting a statue to him.
But he soon quitted these secular employments for tire
service of the church. The bishopric of Clermont be¬
ing vacant in 472 by the death of Eparchus, Apolli¬
naris, who was then only a layman, was chosen to
succeed him without any interest or solicitation on his
part, in which see he acted with the greatest in¬
tegrity. Clermont being besieged by the Goths, he
animated the people to the defence of that city, and
would never consent to the surrender of it so that,
when it was taken about the year 480, he'was obli¬
ged to retire ; but he was soon restored by Evariges
king of the Goths, and continued to govern the church
as he had done before. He died in peace the 2ist of
August 487 ; and his festival is still observed in the
church of Clermont, where his memory is held in great
veneration. He is esteemed the most elegant writer of
his age, both in prose and verse. He wrote a great
many little pieces ; but preserved none but those which
he thought were worthy of being continued down to
posterity. He collected himself the nine books which
we have remaining of his letters- His chief pieces in
poetry are the three panegyrics upon the emperors A-
vitus, Majorianus, and Anthemius. The rest of them
are a collection of poems addressed to his friends upon
particular subjects. His letters contain a variety of
particulars relating to polite literature and profane
history.
APOLLINARIUS,
A P O [ 4<55 ] A P O
Apollina-
riu«,
Apollo*
APOLLINARiUS, Claudius, a learned bishop
of Hierapolis, who, about the year 170, presented to
Marcus Aurelius an excellent Apology for the Chri¬
stians.
Apollinarius the Younger, thus called to distin¬
guish him from his father, called Apollinarius the El¬
der, was at first lector or reader of Laodicea, and af¬
terwards bishop of that city. He was universally
esteemed the greatest man of his age, both for learning
and piety, and a most accurate and nervous defender of
the faith against all its enemies : but notwithstanding
this, on his advancing some opinions that were not ap¬
proved, he was anathematized as an heretic by the se¬
cond general council of Constantinople in 381.
APOLLO, in Mythology, a Pagan deity worship¬
ped by the Greeks and Romans. Cicero mentions
four of this name : the most ancient of whom was the
son of Vulcan ; the second a son of Corybas, and born
in Crete \ the third an Arcadian, called Nomian, from
his being a great legislator ; and the last, to whom the
greatest honour is ascribed, the son of Jupiter and La-
tona.
Apollo had a variety of other names, either derived
from his principal attributes, or the chief places where
he was worshipped. He was called the Healer, from
his enlivening warmth and cheering influence j Pcean,
from the pestilential heats : to signify the former, the
ancients placed the Graces on his right hand ; and for
the latter, a bow and arrows in his left: Nomius, or
the shepherd, from his fertilizing the earth, and thence
sustaining the animal creation : De/ius, from his ren¬
dering all things manifest : Pythius, from his victory
over Python 5 Lycias, Phoebus, and Phaneta, from
his purity and splendour. As Apollo is almost always
confounded by the Greeks with the sun, it is no won¬
der that he should be dignified with so many attributes.
It was natural for the most glorious object in nature,
whose influence is felt by all creation, and seen by eve¬
ry animated part of it, to be adored as the fountain
of light, heat, and life. The power of healing dis¬
eases being chiefly given by the ancients to medicinal
plants and vegetable productions, it was natural to ex¬
alt into a divinity, the visible cause of their growth.
Hence he was also styled the God of Physic ; and that
external heat which cheers and invigorates all nature,
being transferred from the human body to the mind,
gave rise to the idea of all mental effervescence coming
from this god $ hence, likewise, poets, prophets, and
musicians, are said to be Numine affiati, inspired by
Apollo.
Whether Apollo was ever a real personage, or only
the great luminary, many have doubted. Indeed, Vos-
sius has taken great pains to prove this god to be only
a metaphorical being, and that there never was any
other Apollo than the sun. “ He was styled the Son
of Jupiter (says this author), because that god was
reckoned by the ancients the author of the world. His
mother was called Latona, a name which signifies hid¬
den ; because, before the sun was created, all things
were wrapped up in the obscurity of chaos. He is al¬
ways represented as beardless and youthful, because
the sun never grows old or decays. And what else can
his bows and arrows imply, but his piercing beams ?”
And he adds, that all the ceremonies which were per¬
formed to his honour, had a manifest relation to the
Vol. II. Part II. t
great source of light which he represented. Whence Apollo.
(he concludes) it is in vain to seek for any other divi--v 
nity than the sun, which was adored under the name of
Apollo.” HoAvever, though this be in general true,
yet it does appear, from many passages in ancient au¬
thors, that there was some illustrious personage named
Apollo, who, after his apotheosis, was taken for the
sun } as Osiris and Orus in Egypt, whose existence can¬
not be called in question, were, after their death, con¬
founded with the sun, of which they became the sym¬
bols, either from the glory and splendour of their reigns,
or from a belief that their souls had taken up their re¬
sidence in that luminary.
Of the four Apollos mentioned by Cicero, it ap¬
pears that the three last were Greeks, and the fiist an
Egyptian 5 who, according to Herodotus, was the son
of Osiris and Isis, and called Orus. Pausanias is of
the same opinion as Herodotus, and ranks Apollo among
the Egyptian divinities. The testimony of Diodorus
Siculus is still more express *, for in speaking of Isis,
after saying that she had invented the practice of medi¬
cine, he adds, that she taught this art to her sou Orus,
named Apollo, who was the last of the gods that reigned
in Egypt.
It is easy to trace almost all the Grecian fables and
mythologies from Egypt. If the Apollo of the Greeks
was said to be the son of Jupiter, it was because Orus
the Apollo of the Egyptians had Osiris for his father,
whom the Greeks confounded with Jupiter. If the
Greek Apollo was reckoned the god of eloquence, mu¬
sic, medicine, and poetry, the reason was, that Osiris,
who was the symbol of the sun among the Egyptians,
as well as his son Orus, had there taught those liberal
arts. If the Greek Apollo was the god and conduc¬
tor of the Muses, it was because Osiris carried with him
in his expedition to the Indies singing women and mu¬
sicians. This parallel might be carried on still further ;
but enough has been said to prove that the true Apollo
was that of Egypt.
To the other perfections of this divinity the poets
have added beauty, grace, and the art of captivating
the ear and the heart, no less by the sweetness of his
eloquence, than by the melodious sounds of his lyre.
However, with all these accomplishments, he had not
the talent of captivating the fair with whose charms
he was enamoured. But the amours and other adven¬
tures related of this god during his residence on earth,
are too numerous, and too well known, to be inserted
here. His musical contests, however, being more con¬
nected with the nature of this work, must not be.wholly
unnoticed.
To begin, therefore, with the dispute which he had
with Pan, that was left to the arbitration ol Midas.
Pan, who thought he excelled in playing the flute,
offered to prove that it was an instrument superior to
the lyre of Apollo. The challenge was accepted
and Midas, who was appointed the umpire in this
contest, deciding in favour of Pan, was rewarded by
Apollo, according to the poets, with the ears ol an
ass for his stupidity.—This fiction seems founded upon
history. Midas, according to Pausanias, was the son
of Gordius and Cybele ; and reigned in the Greater
Phrygia, as we learn from Strabo. He was possessed
of such great riches, and such an inordinate desire of
increasing them by the most contemptible parsimony,
, 3 N that,
A P O - [ 466 ] A P O
that, according to the poets, he converted whatever
he touched into gold. However, Ins talent tor accu¬
mulation did not extend to the acquirement of taste
and knowledge in the fine arts j and, perhaps, his dul-
ness and inattention to these provoked some musical
poets to invent the fable of his decision in favour of
Pan against Apollo. The scholiast upon Aristophanes,
to explain the fiction of his long ears, says, that it was
designed to intimate that he kept spies in all parts of
his dominions.
Marsyas, another player on the flute, was still more
unfortunate than either Pan or his admirer Midas.
This Marsyas, having engaged in a musical dispute
with Apollo, chose the people of Nisa for judges. A-
pollo played at first a simple air upon his instrument j
but Marsyas, taking up his pipe, struck the audience
so much by the novelty of its tone, and the art of his
performance, that he seemed to be heard with more
pleasure than his rival. Having agreed upon a second
trial of skill, it is said that the performance of Apollo,
by accompanying the lyre with his voice, was allowed
greatly to excel that of Marsyas upon the flute alone.
Marsyas, with indignation, protested against the deci¬
sion of the judges j urging that he had not been fairly
vanquished according to the rules stipulated, because
the dispute was concerning the excellence of their se¬
veral instruments, not their voices j and that it was
wholly unjust to employ two arts against one.
Apollo denied that he had taken any unfair advan¬
tages of his antagonist, since Marsyas had employed
both his mouth and fingers in performing upon his
instrument j so that, if he was denied the use of his
mouth, he would be still more disqualified for the con¬
tention. The judges approved of Apollo’s reasoning,
and ordered a third trial. Marsyas was again van¬
quished j and Apollo, inflamed by the violence of
the dispute, flayed him alive for his presumption. See
Marsyas.
Pausanias relates a circumstance concerning this con¬
test, that had been omitted by Diodorus, which is, that
Apollo accepted the challenge from Marsyas, upon
condition that the victor should use the vanquished as
he pleased.
Diodorus informs us, that Apollo soon repenting of
the cruelty with which he had treated Marsyas, broke
the strings of the lyre, and by that means put a stop,
for a time, to any further progress in the practice of
that new instrument.
The next incident to be mentioned in the history of
Apollo is his defeat of the serpent Python.
The waters of Deucalion’s deluge, says Ovid, which
had overflowed the earth, left a slime from whence
sprung innumerable monsters $ and among others the
serpent Python, which made great havock in the coun¬
try about Parnassus. Apollo, armed with his darts,
put him to death ; which, physically explained, implies,
that the heat of the sun having dissipated the noxious
steams, these monsters soon disappeared : or if this fable
be referred to history, the serpent was a robber, who
haunting the country about Delphos, and very much in¬
festing those who came hither to sacrifice; a prince, who
bore the name of Apollo, or one of the priests of that
god, put him to death.
This event gave rise to the institution of the Pythian
games, so frequently mentioned in the Grecian histo¬
3 „•
ry ; and it was from the legend of Apollo’s victory over
the Python that the god himself acquired the name of
Pythiiis, and his priestess that of Pythia. The city of
Delphos, where the famous oracles were so long deliver¬
ed, was frequently styled Pytho.
As Apollo was the god of the fine arts, those who
cultivated them were called his sons. Of this number
was Philammon of Delphos, whom the poets and my-
thologists make the twin-brother of Autolychns, by
the nymph Chione, and Apollo and Mercury. It is
pretended that both these divinities were favoured by
the nymph on the same day, and that their sires were
known from their different talents. Philammon, a
great poet and musician, was reported to be the off¬
spring of the god who presides over those arts ; and
Autolychus, from the craftiness and subtility of his dis¬
position, was said to have sprung from Mercury, god
of theft and fraud. Philammon is one of the first,
after Apollo, upon fabulous record, as a vocal per¬
former, who accompanied himself with the sound of
the lyre : his son was the celebrated Thamyris. See
Thamyris.
There can be no doubt but that Apollo was more
generally revered in the Pagan world than any other
deity ; having, in almost every region of it, temples,
oracles, and festivals, as innumerable as his attributes:
the wolf and hawk were consecrated to him, as sym¬
bols of his piercing eyes ; the crow and the raven, be¬
cause these birds were supposed to have by instinct the
faculty of prediction; the laurel, from a persuasion
that those who slept with some branches of that tree
under their heads received certain vapours, which ena¬
bled them to prophecy. The cock was consecrated to
him, because by his crowing he announces the rising
of the sun ; and the grashopper on account of his sing¬
ing faculty, which was supposed to do honour to tbo
god of music. Most of the ancient poets have cele¬
brated this tuneful insect, but none better than Ana¬
creon, Ode xliii.
Plato says that the grashopper sings all summer
without food, like those men who, dedicating them¬
selves to the Muses, forget the common concerns of
life.
The swan was regarded by the ancients as a bird sa¬
cred to Apollo in two capacities ; first, as being, like
the crow and raven, gifted with the spirit of predic¬
tion ; and, secondly, for his extraordinary vocal powers.
The sweetness of his song, especially at the approach
of death, was not only extolled by all the poets of anti¬
quity, but by historians, philosophers, and sages ; audio
call a great writer the swan of his age and nation, was a
full acknowledgement of his sovereignty. Thus Horace
calls Pindar the Theban swan.
Plutarch, who was himself a priest of Apollo, impres¬
sed with the highest respect and veneration for him and
for music, in his dialogue upon that art, makes one of
his interlocutors say, that an invention so useful and
charming could never have been the work of man, but
must have originated from some god, such as Apollo,
the inventor of the flute and lyre, improperly attributed
to Hyagnis, Marsyas, Olympus, and others ; and the
proofs he urges in support of this assertion, show, if not
its truth, at least that it was the common and received
opinion.
All dances and sacrifices, says he, used in honour of
Apollo,
A P O t 467 ] A P O
^ilo. Apollo, are performed to the sound of flutes : the sta-
—v*—' tue of this god at Delos, erected in the time of Hercu¬
les, had in its right hand a bow ; and on the left stood
tlie three Graces, who were furnished with three kinds
of instruments, the lyre, the flute, and the syrinx.
The youth also who carries the laurel of Tempe to
Delphos, is accompanied by one playing on the flute 5
and the sacred presents formerly sent to Delos by the
Hyperboreans, were conducted thither to the sound of
lyres, flutes, and shepherds pipes. He supports these
facts by the testimonies of the poets Alcaeus, Aleman,
and Corinna.
It seems as if the account of Apollo could not be
concluded by any thing that is left to offer on the sub¬
ject, so properly, as by part of the celebrated hymn of
Callimachus, which during many ages was performed
and heard by the most polished people on the globe
with the utmost religious zeal, at the festivals instituted
to this god.
Ha! how the laurel, great Apollo’s tree,
And all the cavern, shakes ! Far off, far off,
The man that is unhallow’d : for the god r
Approaches. Hark ! he knocks ; the gates
Feel the glad impulse, and the sever’d bars
Submissive clink against their brazen portals.
Why do the Delian .palms incline their boughs,
Self-mov’d j and hovering swans, their throats releas’d
From native silence, carol sounds harmonious ?
Begin, young men, the hymn : let all your harps
Break their inglorious silence j and the dance,
In mystic numbers trod, explain the music.
But first, by ardent pray’r and clear lustration.
Purge the contagious spots of human weakness :
Impure, no mortal can behold Apollo.
So may you flourish, favour’d by the god,
In youth with happy nuptials, and in age
With silver hairs, and fair descent of children }
So lay foundations for aspiring cities,
And bless your spreading colonies increase.
Pay sacred rev’rence to Apollo’s song 5
Lest wrathful the far-shooting god emit
His fatal arrows. Silent nature stands :
And seas subside, obedient to the sound
Of lo ! lo Paean ! nor dares Thetis
Longer bewail her lov’d Achilles’ death.
For Phoebus was his foe. Nor must sad Niobe
In fruitless sorrow persevere, or weep,
Ev’n thro’ the Phrygian marble. Hapless mother !
Whose fondness could compare her mortal offspring
To those which fair Latona bore to Jove,
lo ! again repeat ye, lo Paean !
Recite Apollo’s praise till night draws on,
The ditty still unfinish’d } and the day
Unequal to the godhead’s attributes
Various, and matter copious of your songs.
Sublime at Jove’s right hand Apollo sits,
And thence distributes honour, gracious king,
And theme of verse perpetual. From his robe
Flows light ineffable ! his harp, his quiver,
And Laotian bow, are gold : with golden sandals
His feet are shod. How rich ! how beautiful !
Beneath his steps the yellow min’ral rises ;
And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty
Eternal deck his cheek; from his fair head
Perfumes distil their sweets j and cheerful health, Apollo,
His duteous handmaid, through the air improv’d Apollodo
With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial. ins-
The spearman’s arm by thee, great god, directed.
Sends forth a certain wound. The laurel’d bard,
Inspir’d by thee, composes verse immortal.
Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician
Eludes the urn, and chains or exiles death.
Perpetual fires shine hallow’d on thy altars,
When annual the Carnean feast is held j
The warlike Libyans, clad in armour, lead
The dance j with clanging swords and shields they beat
The dreadful measure : In the chorus join
Their women ; brown, but beautiful: such rites
To thee well pleasing     - ——   
—   '———The monstrous Python
Durst tempt thy wrath in vain j for dead he fell.
To thy great strength and golden arms unequal,
lo ! while thy unerring hand elanc’d
Another and another dart, the people
Joyfully repeated lo ! lo Pcean !
Elance the dart, Apollo j for the safety
And health of man, gracious thy mother bore thee !
Prior.
Apollo Belvidere, ranked the first in the first class
of ancient statues, and so called from having been
placed in the Belvidere of the Vatican at Rome by
Pope Julius II. where it remained for 300 years, and
till Rome was taken and plundered by the French in
1797. This celebrated statue was found in the ruins
of ancient Antium about the end of the 15th century.
The artist is unknown. The excellence of this statue,
which has attracted universal admiration, consists in the
elegance and sublimity of the expression. Beside this,
thepe are many ancient statues referred to the first
which are distinguished by peculiar beauties.
APOLLODORUS, a famous architect under Tra¬
jan and Hadrian, was born at Damascus. He had the
direction of the bridge of stone which Trajan ordered
to be built over the Danube in the year 104, which
was esteemed the most magnificent of all the works of
that emperor. Hadrian, one day as "l rajan was dis¬
coursing with this architect upon the buildings he had
raised at Rome, would needs give his judgment, and
showed he understood nothing of the matter. Apollo-
dorus turned upon him bluntly, and said to him, Go
paint gourds, for you are very ignorant of the subject
we are talking upon. Hadrian at this time boasted of
his painting gourds well. The insult cost Apollodorus
his life.
Apollodorus, a celebrated painter of Athens, a-
bout 408 years before the birth of Christ, was the first
who invented the art of mingling colours, and of ex¬
pressing the lights and shades. He was admired also
for his judicious choice of subjects, and for beauty and
strength of colouring surpassed all the masters that went
before him. He excelled likewise in statuary.
Apollodorus the Athenian, a famous grammari¬
an, the son of Asclepiades and disciple of Aristarchus.
He wrote many works not now extant; but his most
famous production ivas his Bibliotheca, concerning the
origin of the gods. This work consisted of 24 books,
but only three are now in being. Several other pieces
of his are to be found in Fabricius’s Bibliotheca Gi'ecca,
2 N 2 There
A P O [ 468 ] A P O
Apollo&o- There were various other persons of this name. Scipio
nis Test!, a Neapolitan, has written a treatise of the Apol-
II . lodoruses, which was printed at Home in 1555 ; and
po on ms. Thomas Gale published a work of the same kind in
i675*
APOLLONIA, the name of several ancient cities,
particularly of a colony of the Milesians in Thrace,
from which Lucullus took away a colossus of Apollo,
and placed it in the capitol. The greatest part of the
town rvas situated in a small island in the Euxine, in
which was a temple of Apollo (Strabo). Pliny says the
colossus was 30 cubits high, and cost 500 talents. There
was also an Apollonia at Mount Parnassus, near Delphi
(Stephanus). Troezen was formerly called Apollonia.
Apollonia, feasts sacred to Apollo, instituted up¬
on the following occasion. Apollo, having vanquished
Python, went with his sister Diana to ^Egialea ; but,
being driven from thence, he removed to the island
Crete. The ./Egialeans were soon after visited with a
plague ; upon which, consulting the soothsayers, they
were ordered to send seven young men and as many
virgins, to appease those deities and bring them back
into their country. Apollo and Diana being thus ap¬
peased, returned to iEgialea ; in memory of which they
dedicated a temple to Pitho, the goddess of persuasion ;
whence a custom arose of choosing every year seven
young men, and as many virgins, to go as it were in
search of Apollo and Diana.
Apollonia, in Geography, a promontory of Africa,
upon the coast of Guinea, near the mouth of the river
Alancu.
APOLLONIUS, the author of the Argonautics,
and surnamed The Rhodian, from the place of his resi¬
dence, is supposed to have been a native of Alexan¬
dria, where he is said to have recited some portion of
his poem while he was yet a youth. Finding it ill re¬
ceived by his countrymen, he retired to Rhodes; where
he is conjectured to have polished and completed his
work, supporting himself by the profession of rhetoric,
and receiving from the Rhodians the freedom of their
city. He at length returned, with considerable ho¬
nour, to the place of his birth ; succeeding Erato¬
sthenes in the care of the Alexandrian library in the
reign of Ptolemy Euergetes, who ascended the throne
of Egypt in the year before Christ 246. That prince
had been educated by the famous Aristarchus, and ri¬
valled the preceding sovereigns of his liberal family in
the munificent encouragement of learning. Apollo¬
nius was a disciple of the poet Callimachus ; but their
connexion ended in the most violent enmity, ■which
was probably owing to some degree of contempt ex¬
pressed by ^Apollonius for the light compositions of his
master. The learned have vainly endeavoured to dis¬
cover the particulars of their quarrel.—The only work
of Apollonius which has descended to modern times is
his poem above mentioned, in four books, on the Ar-
gonautic expedition. Both Longinus and Quintilian
have assigned to this work the mortifying character of
mediocrity : “ But (says Mr Hayley) there lies an ap¬
peal from the sentence of the most candid and enlight¬
ened critics to the voice of Nature ; and the merit of
Apollonius has little to apprehend from the decision of
this ultimate judge. His poems abound in animated
description, and in passages of the most tender and pa¬
thetic beauty. How finely painted is the first setting
forth of the Argo ! and how beautifully is the wife of ApolloDiu
Chiron introduced, holding up the little Achilles in Apollos.
her arms, and showing him to his father Peleus as he
sailed along the shore ! But the chief excellence in our
poet, is the spirit and delicacy with which he has de¬
lineated the passion of love in his Medea. That Vir¬
gil thought very highly of his merit in this particular,
is sufficiently evident from the minute exactness with
which he has copied many tender touches of the Gre¬
cian poet. Those who compare the third book of Apol¬
lonius with the fourth of Virgil, may, I think, perceive
not only that Dido has some features of Aledea, but
that the two bards, however different in their reputation,
resembled each other in their genius ; and they both
excel in delicacy and pathos.”—The ancient scholia up¬
on his Argonaulics, stiil extant, are extremely useful,
and full of learning.
Apollonius of Perga, a city of Pamphylia, was a
great geometrician, under the reign of Ptolemy Euer¬
getes, which reaches from the 2d year of the 133d
Olympiad to the 3d year of the 139th. He studied a
long time at Alexandria, under the disciples of Euclid :
and composed several works, of which that only of the
Conics remains.
Apollonius, a Pythagorean philosopher, born at
Tyana in Cappadocia, about the beginning of the first
century. At 16 years of age he became a strict ob¬
server of Pythagoras’s rules, renouncing wine, women,
and all sorts of flesh *, not wearing shoes, letting his
hair grow, and wearing nothing but linen. He soon
after set up for a reformer of mankind, and chose his
habitation in a temple of iEsculapius, where he is said
to have performed many wonderful cures. Philostra-
tus has wrote the life of Apollonius, in which there
are numberless fabulous stories recounted of him. We
are told that he went five years without speaking $ and
yet, during this time, that he stopped many seditions
in Cilicia and Pamphylia : that he travelled, and set
up for a legislator; and that he gave out he under¬
stood all languages, without having ever learned them :
that he could tell the thoughts of men, and understood
the oracles which birds gave by their singing. The
Heathens were fond of opposing the pretended miracles
of this man to those of our Saviour ; and by a trea¬
tise which Eusebius wrote against one Hierocles, we
find that the drift of the latter, in the treatise which
Eusebius refutes, seems to have been to draw a paral¬
lel betwixt Jesus Christ and Apollonius, in which he
gives the preference to this philosopher. AI. du Pin
has wrote a confutation of Philostratus’s life of Apol¬
lonius.
Apollonius wrote some works, viz. four hooks of Ju¬
dicial Astrology ; a treatise upon the Sacrifices, showing
what was proper to be offered to each deity; and a
great number of letters ; all of which are now lost.
APOLLOS, in Scripture history, a Jew of Alex¬
andria, who came to Ephesus during the absence of
St Paul, who was gone to Jerusalem (Acts xviii. 24.)
Apollos was an eloquent man, and well versed in the
Scriptures ; and as he spoke with zeal and fervour, he
taught diligently the things of God : but knowing on¬
ly the baptism of John, he was no more than a cate¬
chumen, or one of the lowest order of Christians, and
did not as yet distinctly know the mysteries of the
Christian doctrine. However, he knew that Jesus
Christ
A P O r 469 ] A P O
Apollo* Christ Was the Messiah, and declared himself openly to
H be his disciple. When therefore he was come to Ephe-
pologue. sos, he began to speak boldly in the synagogue, and to
show that Jesus was the Christ. Aquila and Priscilla
having heard him, took him home with them ; instruct¬
ed him more fully in the ways of God ; and baptized
him, probably in the name of Jesus Christ.
Some time after this he had a mind to go into Achaia ;
and the brethren having exhorted him to undertake this
journey, they wrote to the disciples, desiring them to
receive him. He arrived at Corinth j and was there
very useful in convincing the Jews out of the Scrip¬
tures, and demonstrated to them that Jesus was the
Christ. Thus he watered what St Paul had planted in
this city (1 Cor. iii. 6.) : but the great fondness which
his disciples had for his person had like to have produ¬
ced a schism ; some “ saying, I am of Paul ; others, I
am of Apollos ; I am of Cephas.” However, this di¬
vision, which St Paul speaks of in the chapter last quot¬
ed, did not prevent that apostle and Apollos from being
closely united by the bands of charity. Apollos hearing
that the apostle was at Ephesus, went to meet him, and
was there when St Paul wrote the first epistle to the
Corinthians ; wherein he testifies that he had earnestly
entreated Apollos to return to Corinth, but hitherto
had not been able to prevail with him ; that neverthe¬
less, he gave him room to hope that he would go when
he had an opportunity. St Jerome says, that Apollos
was so dissatisfied with the division which had happened
upon his account at Corinth, that he retired into Crete
with Zena, a doctor of the law j and that this disturb¬
ance having been appeased by the letter which St Paul
wrote to the Corinthians, Apollos x’eturned to this
city, and was bishop thereof. The Greeks make
him bishop of Duras ; others say, he was bishop of Ico-
nium in Phrygia j and others, that he was bishop of Cae¬
sarea.
APOLLYON, a Greek word that signifies the de¬
stroyer, and answers to the Hebrew Abaddon. St John
in the Revelation (ix. II.) says, that an angel having
opened the bottomless pit, a thick smoke issued out of
it j and with this smoke locusts, like horses, prepared
for battle, and commanded by the angel of the bottom¬
less pit, called in Hebrew Abaddon, but in the Greek
Apollyon.
APOLOGETIC, Apologetical, something said
or written, by way of excuse or apology, for any action
or person.
The Apologetic of Tertullian is a work full of
strength and spirit. He there vindicates the Christians
from all that had been objected to them j particularly
from the abominable crimes said to be perpetrated at
their meetings, and their want of love and fidelity to
their country. The ground of this last accusation was,
their refusing to take the accustomed oaths, and swear
by the tutelar gods of the empire.—Tertullian addresses
his Apologetic to the magistrates of Rome, the emperor
Severus being then absent.
APOLOGUE, in matters of literature, an ingenious
method of conveying instruction by means of a feigned
relation called a moral fable.
The only difference between a parable and an apo¬
logue is, that the former, being drawn from what passes
among mankind, requires probability in the narration j
whereas the apologue, being taken from the supposed
2..
actions of brutes, or even of things inanimate, is not Apologue
tied down to the strict rules of probability. iEsop’s ||
fables are a model of this kind of writing. Apono.
APOLOGY, a Greek term, literally importing an ^
excuse or defence of some person or action.
APOMELI, among ancient physicians, a decoction
of honey and vinegar, much used as a detergent, promo¬
ter of stool, urine, &c.
APOMYOS deus {cvxo, and in the Hea¬
then mythology, a name under which Jupiter was wor¬
shipped at Elis, and Hercules as well as Jupiter at the
Olympic games. These deities were supplicated under
this name, to destroy or drive away the vast number of
flies which always attended at the great sacrifices ; and
in those who accompanied the Olympic games, the first
was always to the Apomyos, or Myiagrus Deus, that
he might drive away the flies from the rest. The usual
sacrifice was a bull.
APONEUROSIS, among physicians, a term some¬
times used to denote the expansion of a nerve or tendon
in the manner of a membrane: sometimes for the cut¬
ting off a nerve j and, finally, for the tendon itself.
APONO, Peter d’, one of the most famous philo¬
sophers and physicians of his age, born in the year 1350,
in a village about four miles from Padua. He studied
some time at Paris, and was there promoted to the de¬
gree of doctor in philosophy and physic. When he came
to practise as a physician, he is said to have insisted on
very large sums for his visits : we are not told what he
demanded for the visits he made in the place of his re¬
sidence ; but it is affirmed that he would not attend the .
sick in any other place under 150 florins a-day $ and..
when he was sent for by Pope Honorius IV. he de¬
manded 400 ducats for each day’s attendance. He was
suspected of magic, and prosecuted by the Inquisition
on that account. “ The common opinion of almost all
authors (says Naude) is, that he was the greatest ma--
gician of his age ; that he had acquired the know¬
ledge of the seven liberal arts, by means of the seven
familiar spirits, which he kept enclosed in a cry¬
stal j and that he had the dexterity to make the mo¬
ney he had spent come back into his purse.” The
same author adds, that he died before the process
against him was finished, being then in the 80th year
of his age ; and that, after his death, they ordered
him to be burnt in effigy, in the public place of the
city of Padua} designing thereby to strike a fear into
others of incurring the like punishment, and to sup¬
press the reading three books which he had wrote ; the
first being the Heptameron, which is printed at the
end of the first volume of Agrippa’s work j the second,
that which is called by Trithemius Elucidareuin ne-
cromanticum Petri de Albano ; and the last, that which
is entitled by the same author, Liber expei'imentorvm.
mirabilium de annulis secundum xxviii. mansiones lunee.
His body being secretly taken up by his friends, escap¬
ed the vigilance of the inquisitors, who would have
burnt it. It was removed several times, and was at
last placed in the church of St Augustin, without an
epitaph or any mark of honour. The most remarkable
book which 'Apono wrote, was that which procured
him the surname vi Conciliator; he wrote also a piece
entitled De medicina omnimoda. There is a story told
of him, that, having no well in his house, he caused
his neighbour’s to be carried into the street by devils,
when.
when he heard
water thence,
have employed
O [ 47° ] A P O
forbidden his maid fetching more wickedly, or altered them more presumptuously, I
cannot well declare.
A P
they had
He had much better (says Mr Bayle)
the devils to make a well in his own
house, and have stopped up his neighbour s j or, at
least, transported it into his house, rather than into the
street-
APONOGETON. See Botany Index.
APONUS, a hamlet near Patavium, with warm
baths. It was the birthplace of Livy, (Martial) ; and
is now called Albano. E. Long. 10. N. Lat. 45*
APOPEMPTIC, in the ancient poetry, a hymn ad¬
dressed to a stranger on his departure from a place to
his own country. The ancients had certain holidays^
wherein they took leave of the gods with apopemptic
songs, as supposing them returning each to his own
country. The deities having the patronage of divers
places, it was but just to divide their presence, and al¬
low some time to each. Hence it was, that among the
Delians and Milesians we find feasts of Apollo, and
among the Argians feasts of Diana, called Epidemiee,
as supposing these deities then more peculiarly resident
among them. On the last day of the feast they dis¬
missed them, following them to the altars with apo¬
pemptic hymns.
APOPHASIS, a figure in Rhetoric, by which the
orator, speaking ironically, seems to wave what he would
plainly insinuate ; as, Neither will I mention those
things ; which, if 1 should, you notwithstanding could
neither confute, nor speak against them.
APOPHLEGMATIZANTS, in Pharmacy, medi¬
cines proper to clear the head from superfluous phlegm,
whether by spitting or by the nose.
APOPHTHEGM, a short, sententious, and instruc¬
tive remark, pronounced by a person of distinguished
character. Such is that of Cyrus : He is unworthy to
he a magistrate, icho is not better than his subjects.
Or th is : He that will not take care of his own busi¬
ness, will be forced to take care of that of others. Or
that of Artaxerxes Mnemon, when reduced to hunger
by the loss of his baggage : How much pleasure have
I hitherto lived a stranger to ? Or that of Cato, Ho¬
mines nihil agendo discunt male agere. Or, finally,
that of Augustus, Festina lente. The apophthegms of
Plutarch are well known.
APOPHYGE, in Architecture, a concave part or
ring of a column, lying above or below the flat member.
The French call it le conge dien bas or dlen haut: the
Italians, cavo di basso or di sopra ; and also il vivo di
basso. The apophyge originally was no more than the
ring, or ferril, at first fixed on the extremities of wood¬
en pillars, to keep them from splitting j which after¬
wards was imitated in stone.
APOPHYSIS, in Anatomy, a process or protube¬
rance of a bone. See Anatomy.
APOPLEXY, a distemper in which the patient is
suddenly deprived of all his senses, and of voluntary mo¬
tion. See Medicine Index.
APORIA, is a figure in Rhetoric, by which the
speaker shows, that he doubts where to begin for the
multitude of matter, or what to say in some strange and
ambiguous thing; and doth, as it were, argue the case
with himself. Thus Cicero says, Whether he took them
from his felloivs more impudently, gave them to a harlot
more lasciviously, removed them from the Roman people
Aporia
APORON, or Aporime, a problem difficult to re- Apostasy
solve, and which has never been resolved, though it be
not, in itself, impossible.
The word is derived from essregc?, which signifies
something very difficult, and impracticable ; being form¬
ed from the privative «, and passage. Such we
conceive the quadrature of the circle ; the duplicature
of the cube j the trisection of an angle, &c. When a
question was proposed to any of the Greek philosophers,
especially of the sect of Academists ; if he could not
give a solution, his answer was Airo^iv, 1 cannot see
through it.—This word is also used by some law writ¬
ers for an inexplicable speech or discourse.
APOSIOPESIS, in Rhetoric, otherwise called reti-
cency and suppression; a figure, by which a person
really speaks of a thing, at the same time that he makes
a show as if he would say nothing of it. The word
comes from ctTroriUTrota, I am silent.—It is commonly
used to denote the same with ellipsis. Jul. Scaliger
distinguishes them. The latter, according to him, be¬
ing only the suppression of a word j as me, me ; adsum
quifeci; the former, the omitting to relate some part
of the action j as,
THxerat, atque illam media inter talia ferro
Collapsam adspiciunt ■ ■
where the poet does not mention how Dido killed her¬
self.—This figure is of use to keep up the grandeur and
sublimity of a discourse.
APOSPHRAGISMA, (from and 1
seal), in antiquity, the figure or impression of a seal.—
It was forbid among the ancients to have the figure or
image of God on their rings and seals. To this pur¬
pose the precept of Pythagoras, E» ukwx Qia
f*7i ! But in process of time, this was little re¬
garded j it was usual enough to have the figures of Egyp¬
tian and other deities, as well as of heroes, monsters,
friends, ancestors, and even brutes, on their dactyli or
ring-seals. Thus Csesar had the image of Venus, Pol-
lio of Alexander, Augustus of the Sphinx, Pompey of a
frog, Lentulus of his grandfather, &c.
APOSTASIS, in Medicine, the same with abscess.
APOSTASY, the abandoning the true religion.
The primitive Christian church distinguished several
kinds of apostasy. The first, of those who went over en¬
tirely from Christianity to Judaism*, the second, of those
who mingled Judaism and Christianity together} and
the third, of those who complied so far with the Jews,
as to communicate with them in many of their unlawful
practices, without making a formal profession of their
religion. But the fourth sort was of those who, after
having been some time Christians, voluntarily relapsed
into Paganism.
The perversion of a Christian to Judaism, Paganism,
or other false religion, was punished by the emperors
Constantins and Julian with confiscation of goods ; to
which the emperors Theodosius and Valentinian added
capital punishment, in case the apostate endeavoured to
pervert others to the same iniquity : A punishment too
severe for any temporal laws to inflict; and yet the
zeal of our ancestors imported it into this country } for
we find by Bracton, that in his time apostates were to
be
A P O [ 471 ] A P O
sta be burnt to death. Doubtless the preservation of Chri-
p J stianity, as a national religion, is, abstracted from its
Apostle, ewn intrinsic truth, of the utmost consequence to the
 T—' civil state: which a single instance will sufficiently de¬
monstrate. The belief of a future state of rewards and
punishments, the entertaining just ideas of the moral
attributes of the supreme Being, and a firm persuasion
that he superintends and will finally compensate every
action in human life (all which are clearly revealed in
the doctrines, and forcibly inculcated by the precepts,
of our Saviour Christ), these are the grand foundation
of all judicial oaths : which call Qod to witness the
-truth of those facts, which perhaps may be only
known to him and the party attesting: all moral evi¬
dence therefore, all confidence in human veracity,
must be weakened by apostasy, and overthrown by to¬
tal infidelity. Wherefore all affronts to Christianity,
or endeavours to depreciate its efficacy, in those wljo
have once professed it, are highly deserving of censure.
But yet the loss of life is a heavier penalty than the
offence, taken in a civil light, deserves j and, taken in
a spiritual light, our laws have no jurisdiction over it.
This punishment, thei’efore, has long ago become ob¬
solete ; and the offence of apostasy was, for along time,
the object only of the ecclesiastical courts, which cor¬
rected the offender pro salute animce. But about the
dose of the last century, the civil liberties to which
we were then restored being used as a cloak of malici¬
ousness, and the most horrid doctrine subversive of all
religion being publicly avowed both in discourse and
writings, it was thought necessary again for the civil
power to interpose, by not admitting those miscreants
to the privileges of society, who maintained such prin¬
ciples as destroyed all moral obligation. To this end
it was enacted, by statute 9 and 10 Wflliam III. c. 32.
That if any person educated in, or having made pro¬
fession of the Christian religion, shall, by writing,
printing, teaching, or advised speaking, deny the
Christian religion to be true, or the holy Scriptures to
be of divine authority, he shall, upon the first offence,
be rendered incapable to hold any office or place of
trust; and, for the second, be rendered incapable of
bringing any action, or of being guardian, executor,
legatee, or purchaser of lands, and shall suffer three
years imprisonment without bail, fo give room, how¬
ever, for repentance, if, within four months after the
first conviction, the delinquent will in open court pub-
liply renounce his error, he is discharged for that once
from all disabilities.
APOSTATA capiendo, in the English Law, a
writ that formerly lay against a person who, having
entered into some order of religious, broke out again,
and wandered up and down the country.
APOSTATE, one who deserts his religion. Among
the Romanists, it signifies a man who, without a legal
dispensation, forsakes a religious order of which he had
made profession.
A POSTERIORI, or demonstration a posteriori.
See Demonstration.
APOSTIL, in matters of literature, the same with
a marginal note.
APOSTLE properly signifies a messenger or person
sent by another upon some business; and hence, by
way of eminence, denotes one of the disciples commis¬
sioned by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel.
Our blessed Lord selected twelve out of the number Apostle.
of his disciples to be invested with the apostleship. Their —--v—J
ni.mes were Simon Peter, Andrew, James the greater,
John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, James
the less, Jude, surnamed Lebbeus or Thaddeus, Simon
the Canaamte, and Judas Iscariot. Of these, Simon,
Andrew, James the greater, and John, were fisher¬
men 5 and Matthew a publican, or receiver of the pub¬
lic revenue : of what profession the rest were, we are
not told in Scripture : though it is probable they were
fishermen.
There are various conjectures as to the reason of our
Saviour’s making choice of twelve apostles. The most
probable is, that it might be in allusion to the twelve
patriarchs, as the founders of their several tribes j or to
the twelve chief heads or rulers of those tribes, of which
the body of the Jewish nation consisted. This opinion
seems to be countenanced by what our Saviour tells his
apostles, that “ when the Son of man shall sit on the
throne of his glory, they also shall sit upon twelve
thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
Our Lord’s first commission to his apostles was in the
third year of his public ministry, about eight months
after their solemn election j at which time he sent them
out by two and two. They were to make no provision
of money for their subsistence in their journey, but to
expect it from those to whom they preached. They
were to declare, that the kingdom of heaven, or the
Messiah, was at hand $ and to confirm their doctrine
by miracles. They were to avoid going either to the
Gentiles or to the Samaritans, and to confine their
preaching to the people of Israel. In obedience to
their Master, the apostles went into all the parts of
Palestine inhabited by the Jews, preaching the gospel,
and working miracles. Tihe evangelical history is
silent as to the particular circumstances attending this
first preaching of the apostles ; and only informs us,
that they returned, and told their Master of all that
they had done.
Their second commission, just before our Lord’s ascen¬
sion into heaven, was of a more extensive and particular
nature. They were now not to confine their preaching
to the Jews, but to “ go and teach ALL nations, bap¬
tizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost.” Accordingly they began ,
publicly, after our Lord’s ascension, to exercise the of¬
fice of their ministry, working miracles daily in proof
of their mission, and making great numbers of convert*
to the Christian faith. This alarmed the Jewish San¬
hedrim *, whereupon the apostles were apprehended,
and being examined before the high priest and elders,
were commanded not to preach any more in the name
of Christ. But this injunction did not terrify them
from persisting in the duty of their calling j lor they
continued daily, in the temple, and in private houses,
teaching, and preaching the gospel. - . *
After the apostles had exercised their ministry for
twelve years in Palestine, they resolved to disperse
themselves in different parts of the world, and agreed
to determine by lot what parts each should take. Ac¬
cording to this division, St Peter went into Pontus,
Galatia, and those other provinces of the Lesser Asia.
St Andrew had the vast northern countries ol Scythia
and Sogdiana allotted to his portion. St John s was
partly the same with Peter’s, namely the Lesser Asia.
A ? O [ 472 ] A P O
St Philip hail the Upper Asia assigned to him, with
some parts of Scythia and Colchis. Arabia lelix fell
to St Bartholomew’s share. St Matthew preached in
Chaldea, Persia, and Parthia. St Thomas preached
likewise in Parthia ; as also to the Hyrcanians, Bactri-
ans, and Indians. St James the less continued in Je¬
rusalem, of which church he was bishop. St Simon
had for his portion Egypt, Cyrene, Libya, and Mau-.
ritania ; St Jude, Syria and Mesopotamia 5 and St Mat¬
thias, who was chosen in the room of the traitor Ju¬
das, Cappadocia and Colchis. Thus, by the dispersion
of the apostles, Christianity was very early planted in
a great many parts of the world. We have but very
short and imperfect accounts of their travels and ac¬
tions.
In order to qualify the apostles for the arduous task
of converting the world to the Christian religion, they
were, in the first place, miraculously enabled to speak
the languages of the several nations to whom they were
to preach : and, in the second place, were endowed
with the power of working miracles, in confirmation
of the doctrines they taught; gifts which were unne¬
cessary, and therefore ceased, in the after ages of the
church, when Christianity came to he established by
the civil power.
St Paul is frequently called the apostle, by way of
eminence ; and the apostle of the Gentiles, because his
ministry was chiefly made use of for the conversion of
the Gentile world, as that of St Peter was for the
Jews, who is therefore styled the apostle of the circum¬
cision. The several apostles are usually represented
with their respective badges or attributes ; St Peter
with the keys j St Paul with a sword ; St Andrew
with a cross or saltier ; St James minor with a fuller’s
pole ; St John with a cup, and a winged serpent flying
from it •, St Bartholomew with a knife ; St Philip with
a long staff, whose upper end is formed into a cross 5 St
Thomas with a lance ; St Matthew with a hatchet} St
Matthias with a battle axe *, St James major with a
pilgrim’s staff and a gourd bottle ; St Simon with a saw j
and St Jude with a club.
This appellation was also given to the ordinary tra¬
velling ministers of the church.—Thus St Paul, in the
Epistle to the Homans, xvii. 7, says, “ Salute Andro-
nicus and Junia, my kinsmen and fellow prisoners, who
are of note among the apostles.” It was likewise a
title given to those sent by the churches to carry their
alms to the poor of other churches. This usage they
borrowed from the synagogues, who called those whom
they sent on this, message by the same name ; and the
function or office itself xTrcfoM, apostle, q. d. mission.
Thus St Paul, writing to the Philippians, tells them
that Epaphroditus their apostle had ministered to his
wants, ch. ii. 25.
The appellation is given in like manner to those per¬
sons who first planted the Christian faith in any place.
Thus Dionysius of Corinth is called the apostle of
France; Xavier, the apostle of the Indies, &c. In tlie
East Indies the Jesuit missionaries are also called a-
postles.
Apostle is also used among the Jews for a kind
of officer anciently sent into the several parts and pro¬
vinces in their jurisdiction, by way of visitor or com¬
missary, to see that the laws were duly observed, and
to receive the moneys collected for the reparation of
the temple, and the tribute payable to the Romans.
The Theodosian code, lib. 14. De Judceis, calls those
apostoh, qui ad exigendum aurvm atque argentum, apa-
triurcha certo tempore duiguntur. Julian the apostate
remitted the Jews the apostle, tmoroXn', that is, as he
himself explains it, the tribute they had been accu¬
stomed to send him. These apostles were a degree
below the officers of the synagogue called patriarchs,
and received their commissions from them. Some au¬
thors observe, that St Paul had borne this office ; and
that it is this he alludes to in the beginning of the
epistle to the Galatians •, as if he had said, Paul, no
longer an apostle of the synagogue, nor sent thereby
to maintain the law of Moses, but now an apostle and
envoy of Jesus Christ, &c. St Jerome, though he does
not believe that St Paul had been an apostle of this
kind, yet imagines that he alludes to it in the passage
just cited.
Apostle, in the Greek liturgy, is particularly
used for a book containing the epistles ot St Paul,
printed in the order wherein they are to be read in
churches, through the course of the year. Another
book of the like kind, containing the Gospels, is called
Ev«fysAio», Gospel.—The apostle, of late days, has also
contained the other canonical epistles, the Acts of the
Apostles, and the Revelation. Hence it is also called
-diets of the Apostles, II^ctTrofeX*; ; that being the first
book in it.
Apostle is also thought by many to have been the
original name for bishops, before the denomination
hishop was appropriated to their order, Thus Theodo-
ret says expressly, the same persons are anciently call¬
ed promiscuously both bishops and presbyters, whilst
those who are now called bishops were called apostles.
In the arsenal of Bremen, there are twelve pieces of
cannon called the Twelve Apostles, on a supposition that
the whole world must be convinced, and acquiesce in
the preaching of such apostles.
Apostles Creed: a formula, or summary of the
Christian faith, drawn up, according to Ruffinus, by
the apostles themselves : who, during their stay at Je¬
rusalem, soon after the Lord’s ascension, agreed upon
this creed, as a rule of faith, and as a word of distinc¬
tion by which they were to know friends from foes.
Baronius, and some other authors, conjecture, that
they did not compose it till the second year of the reign
of Claudius, a little before their dispersion. As to
their manner of composing it, some fancy, that each
apostle pronounced his article, which is the reason of
its being called syinbolum apostoheum, it being made up
of sentences jointly contributed, after the manner of
persons paying each their club {symbolum'), or share
of a reckoning.
But there are reasons which may induce •us to que¬
stion whether the apostles composed any such creed as
this. For, first, Neither St Luke in the Acts, nor any
other ecclesiastical writer before the 5th century, make
any mention of an assembly of the apostles in order to
the composing of a creed. Secondly, The fathers of
the three first centuries, in disputing against the here¬
tics, endeavoured to prove that the doctrine contained
in this creed was the same which the apostles taught;
but they never pretend that the apostles composed it.
Thirdly, If the apostles had made this creed, it would
have been the same in all churches, and in all ages ;
and
A P O [ 473 ] A P O
Apostle and all authors would have cited it after the same man-
11 ner. But the case is quite otherwise. In the second
Apostolic. afl(| third ages of the church, there were as many
creeds as authors, and one and the same author sets
down the creed after a different manner in several pla¬
ces of his works ; which is an evidence that there was
not at that time any creed which was reputed to be
the apostles. In the fourth century Ruffinus compares
together the three ancient creeds of the churches of
Aquileia, Rome, and the East, which differ very con¬
siderably in the terms. Besides, these creeds differed
not only in the terms and expressions, but even in the
articles, some of which were omitted in one or other
of them j such as those of the dsscent into hell, the com¬
munion of the saints, and the life everlasting. From
these reasons it may be gathered, that though this
creed may be said to be that of the apostles in regard
to the doctrines contained therein, yet it is not to be
referred to them as the authors and first composers of
it. Who was the true author of it, is not easy to de¬
termine } though its great antiquity may be inferred
from hence, that the whole form, as it now stands in
the English liturgy, is to be found in the works of
St Ambrose and Ruffinus, the former of whom flou¬
rished in the third century, and the latter in the fourth
century.
The primitive Christians, in regard they always con¬
cealed this and their other mysteries, did not publicly
recite the creed, except at the times of baptism ; which,
unless in case of necessity, were only in Easter and
Whitsuntide. The constant repeating of it was not in¬
troduced into the church till the end of the fifth cen¬
tury ; about which time Petrus Gnapheus, bishop of An¬
tioch, prescribed the recital of it every time divine ser¬
vice was performed.
APOSTOLARE, Apostolicare, apostoli'zing, in
some middle age writers, denotes the being preferred to
the dignity of pope.
APOSTOLATE, in a general sense, is used for
mission. In this sense, Olearius has a discourse con¬
cerning the apostolate of Christ.
Apostolate more properly denotes the dignity or
office of an apostle of Christ j but it is also used, in
ancient writers, for the office of a bishop. In this
sense we meet with several letters, petitions, requests,
&c. directed to bishops, under the title of your aposto¬
late, or apostolatus vester. But as the title apostolicus
had been appropriated to the. pope, so that of aposto¬
late, became at length restrained to the sole dignity of
the popedom. Every bishop’s see was anciently dig¬
nified with the title of sedes apostolica, an apostolical
see, which is now the peculiar denomination of the see
of Rome.
APOSTOLI, in Law, denote those letters missive
which are demanded in cases of appeal.
APOSTOLIC, Apostolical, something that re¬
lates to the apostles, or descends from them. Thus we
say, the apostolical age, apostolical doctrine, apostolical
character, constitutions, traditions, &c.
Apostolic, in the primitive church, was an appel¬
lation given to all such churches as were founded by
the apostles ; and even to the bishops of those churches,
as being the reputed successors of the apostles.—These
were confined to four, viz. Rome, Alexandria, Anti¬
och, and Jerusalem. In after times, other churches
Vol. II. Part II. t
assumed the same quality, on account, principally, of Aposto’ic
the conformity of their doctrine with that of the 11
churches which were apostolical by foundation, and APosto!*c*-,
because all bishops held themselves successors of the
apostles, or acted in their diocese with the authority of
apostles.
The first time the term apostolical is attributed to
bishops as such, is in a letter of Clovis to the council
of Orleans, held in 511, though that king does not
there expressly denominate them apostolical (but apos¬
tolica sede dignissimi) highly worthy of the apostolical
see. In 581, Guntram calls the bishops, met at the
council of Ma^on, apostolical pontiffs, apostolici ponti-
fices.
In progress of time, the bishop of Rome growing in
power above the rest, and the three patriarchates of
Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, falling into the
hands of the Saracens, the title apostolical was restrained
to the pope and his church alone. Though some of the
popes, and St Gregory the Great, not contented to hold
the title by this tenure, began at length to insist, that
it belonged to them by another and peculiar right, as
being the successors of St Peter. The council of Rheims
in 1049 declared that the pope was the sole apostolical
primate of the universal church. And hence a great
number of apostolicals ; apostolical see, apostolical nun¬
cio, apostolical notary, apostolical brief, apostolical cham¬
ber, apostolical vicar, &c.
Apostolical Constitutions. See Constitution'.
Apostolical Traditions. See Tradition.
Apostolical Fathers is an appellation usually given
to the writers of the first century who employed their
pens in the cause of Christianity. Of these writers,
Cotelerius, and after him Le Clerc, have published a
collection in two volumes, accompanied both with their
own annotations and the remarks of other learned
men.
APOSTOLIANS, a sect of the Mennonites, which
first sprung up in the year 1663, and derived its name
from Apostool, one of the Mennonite ministers at Am¬
sterdam. They concurred with them in doctrine, and
admitted to their communion those only who professed to
believe all the sentiments which are contained in their
public confession of faith.
APOSTOLICI, or Apostolics, was a name as¬
sumed by three different sects, on account of their pre¬
tending to imitate the manner and practice of the apo¬
stles. The first apostolici, otherwise called Apotactitce
and Apotactici, rose out of the Encratitae and Catha-
ri in the third century. They made profession of ab¬
staining from marriage, and the use of wine, flesh, mo¬
ney, &c.
Gerhard Sagarelli was the founder of the second
sect; he obliged his followers to go from place to
place as the apostles did, to wander about clothed in
white, with long beards, dishevelled hair, and bare
heads, accompanied with women, whom they called
their spiritual sisters. They likewise renounced all
kinds of property and possessions, inveighed against the
growing corruption of the church of Rome, predicted
its overthrow, and the establishment of a purer church
on its ruins. Sagarelli was burnt alive at Parma in
the year 1300, and was afterwards succeeded by Dul-
cinus, who added to the character of an apostle those
of a prophet and a general, and carried on a bloody
3 O and
A P O
[ 474 ]
A P O
Apostolic! and dreadful war for the space of more than two years
against Reynerlus, bishop of Vercellij he was at length
defeated, and put to death in a barbarous manner in the
year 1307. Nevertheless, the sect subsisted in France,
‘ Germany, and in other countries, till the beginning of
the 15th century, when it was totally extirpated under
the pontificate ot Bonilace IX.
The other branch of apostolici was of the twelfth
century. These also condemned marriage, preferring
celibacy, and calling themselves the chaste brethren
and sisters 5 though each was allowed a spiritual sister,
with whom he lived in a domestic relation j and on
this account they have been charged with concubi¬
nage : they held it unlawful to take an oath ; they set
aside the use of baptism ; and in many things imita¬
ted the Manichees. Bernard wrote against this sect
of apostolici.
APOSTOLICUM is a peculiar name given to a kind
of song or hymn, anciently used in churches. The
apostolicum is mentioned by Greg. Thaumaturgus as
used in his time. Vossius understands it as spoken of
the apostles creed : Suicer thinks this impossible, for
that this creed was then unknown in the churches of
tlic east*
APOSTROPHE, in Rhetoric, a figure by which
a person who is either absent or dead is addressed as if
he rvere present and attentive to us. This figure is, in
boldness, a degree lower than the address to personifi¬
ed objects (see Personification) ; since it requires
a less effort of imagination to suppose persons present
who are dead or absent, than to imitate insensible be¬
ings and direct our discourse to them. The poems of
Ossian abound with the most beautiful instances of
this figure. “Weep on the rocks of roaring winds,
O Maid of Inistore 1 Bend thy fair head over the waves,
thou fairer than the ghost of the hills when it moves in
a sunbeam at noon over the silence of Morven ! He is
fallen! Thy youth is low: pale beneath the sword of
Cuchullin !
Apostrophe, in Grammar, the contraction of a
word by the use of a comma: as cedi'1 d for called, tho"1
for though.
APOTACTITiE, or Apotactici, an ancient sect,
who affecting to follow the evangelical counsels of po¬
verty, and the examples of the apostles and primitive
Christians, renounced all their effects and possessions.
It does not appear that they gave into any errors du¬
ring their first state ; some ecclesiastical writers assure
us they had divers holy virgins and martyrs under the
persecution ol Dioelesian in the fourth century ; but
they afterwards fell into the opinions of the Encratitae,
and taught that the renouncing of all riches was not
only a matter -of counsel and advice, but of precept
and necessity. And hence the sixth law in the Theo-
dosian code joins the Apotactitse with the Eunomians
and Arians.
APOTEICHISMUS, in the ancient military art,
a kind of line of circumvallation drawn round a place
in order to besiege it. This was also called periieichis-
mus. The first thing the ancients went about, when
they designed to lay close siege to a place, was the apo-
teichismus j which sometimes consisted of a double wall
or rampart, raised of earth j the innermost to prevent
sudden sallies from the town, the outermost to keep off
coming to the relief of the be¬
foreign enemies from
sieged. This answered to what are called lines of can- ^pote’ ]
travallation and circumvallation among the moderns.
APOTHECARY, one who practises the art of (1
pharmacy. In London, the apothecaries are one ofAPotlieos’
the city companies. They were incorporated by a
charter from King James I. procured at the solicita¬
tion of Dr Mayerne and Dr Aitkens ; till that time
they only made a part of the grocers company j plums,
sugar, spice, Venice treacle, mithridate, &c. wrere sold
in the same shop and by the same person. The rea¬
son of separating them was, that medicines might be
better prepared, and in opposition to divers persons
who imposed unwholesome remedies on the people.
By an act which was made perpetual in the ninth year
ol George I. they are exempted from serving upon ju¬
ries, or in ward and parish offices. They are obliged to
make up their medicines according to the formulas pre¬
scribed in the college dispensatory j and are liable to
have their shops visited by the censors of the college,
who are empowered to destroy such medicines as they
think not good.
They have a hall in Black Friars, where there are
two fine laboratories, out of which all the surgeons
chests are supplied with medicines for the British royal
nayy.
To his majesty belong two apothecaries: the salary
to the first, 320I. $ to the second, 275I.—To the house¬
hold belong also two.
The charitable dispensation of medicines by the Chi¬
nese is well deserving notice. They have a stone which
is ten cubits high, erected in the public squares of their
cities ; on this stone are engraven the names of all sorts
of medicines, with the price of each} and when the poor
stand in need of any relief from physic, they go to the
treasury, where they receive the price each medicine is
rated at.
Apothecary, Apothecarius, in writers of the middle
age, denotes a shop-keeper or wrarehouse-keeper.
Apothecarius is also used to denote a store-keeper,
or officer appointed to have the direction of a magazine,
granary, &c. In which sense apothecarii is sometimes
rendered by horearii and rationarii.
APOTHEOSIS, in antiquity, a heathen ceremo¬
ny, whereby their emperors and great men were placed
among the gods. The word is derived from and
0eaj, God.
After the apotheosis which they also called deification
and consecration, temples, altars, and images were erect¬
ed to the new deity j sacrifices, &c. were offered, and
colleges of priests instituted.
It was one of the doctrines of Pythagoras, which he
had borrowed from the Chaldees, that virtuous persons-
after their death were raised into the order of the gods.
And hence the ancients deified all the inventors of
things useful to mankind } and those who had done
any important services to the commonwealth. Tibe¬
rius proposed to the Roman senate the apotheosis of
Jesus Christ, as is related by Eusebius, Tertullian, and
Chrysostom.
Juvenal rallying the frequent apotheoses, introduces
poor Atlas, complaining that he was ready to sink un¬
der the burden of so many new gods as were every day
added to the heavens. Seneca ridicules the apotheosis
of Claudius with admirable humour.
The ceremony, according to Herodian’s description,
was
A P P [ 475 ] A P P
. • was as follows: After the body of the deceased had
^ || been burnt with the usual solemnities, an image of wax,
Apparatus.eXactly resembling him, was placed on an ivory couch,
•— v"-' 1 where it lay for seven days, attended by the senate and
ladies of the highest quality in mourning ; and then
the young senators and knights bore the bed of state
through the Via Sacra to the old forum, and from
thence to the Campus Martius, where it was deposited
upon an edifice built in form of a pyramid. The bed
being thus placed amidst a quantity of spices and other
combustibles, and the knights having made a solemn
procession round the pile, the new emperor, with a
torch in his hand, set fire to it, whilst an eagle, let fly
from the top of the building, and mounting in the air
with a firebrand, was supposed to convey the soul of
the deceased to heaven j and thenceforward he was
ranked among the gods.
We often meet with the consecration or apotheosis
of emperors represented on medals : where we see the
pyramids of several stories, each growing less and less ;
we see also the eagles flying away with the souls of the
deceased emperors. A gem in the museum of Bran¬
denburg represents the apotheosis of Julius Caesar,
mounted upon the celestial globe, and holding a helm
in his hand, as if he were now the governor of heaven,
as before of the earth. See DEIFICATION.
APOTHERAPIA, (from ctTroSi^xTrtva, I cure'), in
"Physic, properly denotes a complete or finished cure.
Apotherapia is also used in the gymnastic art, for
the last part of all regular exercise, viz., friction, or unc¬
tion with oil, before as well as after bathing. The de¬
sign of this was partly to cleanse the skin from any
filth or dust it might have contracted during the ex¬
ercise, and partly to remove weariness.
APOTOME, in Geometry, the difference between
two incommensurable lines.
Apotome, in Music, the difference between a greater
and a lesser semi-tone $ expressed by the ratio, 128 j
I2J.
APOTROPJE, (from ctTroT^ixu, I avert), in the
ancient poetry, verses composed for averting the wrath
of incensed deities} and the deities invoked for avert¬
ing any threatened misfortune were called Apotrepe-
ans; they were also called Alexiaci, from aAefia, I
drive arc ay; and Averrunci from averrunco, which
denotes the same.
APOZEM, in Medicine, the same with decoction.
See Decoction.
APPARATUS, a term used to denote a complete
set of instruments, or other utensils, belonging to any
artist or machine.
Apparatus is frequently used for the operation of
cutting for the stone. For this there are three sorts of
apparatus, viz. the small, great, and high apparatus.
See Surgery.
Apparatus is also used as a title of several books
composed in form of catalogues, bibliothecas, diction¬
aries, &c. for the ease and conveniency of study. The
apparatus to Cicero is a kind of concordance, or col¬
lection of Ciceronian phrases, &c. T he apparatus
sacer of Possevin, is a collection of all kinds of eccle¬
siastical authors, printed in 1611, in three volumes.—
Glossaries, comments, &c. are also frequently called
apparatuses.
APPARENT, in a general sense, something that is Apparent,
visible to the eyes, or obvious to the understanding. Apparition.
Apparent, among mathematicians and astronomers, —v~—'
denotes things as they appear to us, in contradistinc¬
tion from real or true j thus we say, the apparent dia¬
meter, distance, magnitude, place, figure, See. of bo¬
dies.
Afpar'ext Heir, in Law. No inheritance can vest,
nor can any person be the actual complete heir of ano¬
ther, till the ancestor is previously dead. Nemo est hce-
t'es viventis. Before that time the person who is next
in the line of succession is called an heir apparent, or
heir presumptive. Heirs apparent are such, whose right
of inheritance is indefeasible, provided they outlive the
ancestor ; as the eldest son or his issue, who must by
the course of the common law be heirs to the father
whenever he happens to die. Heirs presumptive are
such, who, if the ancestor should die immediately, would
in the present circumstances of things be his heirs:
but whose right of inheritance may be defeated by the
contingency of some nearer heir being born ; as a bro¬
ther, or nephew, whose presumptive succession may be
destroyed by the birth of a child ; or daughter, whose
present hopes may be hereafter cut off by the birth of
a son. Nay, even if the estate hath descended, by the
death of the owner, to such brother, or nephew, or
daughter, in the former cases, the estate shall be di¬
vested, and taken away by the birth of a posthumous
child ; and, in the latter, it shall also be totally divested
by the birth of a posthumous son.
APPARITION, in a general sense, denotes simply
the appearance of a thing. In a more limited sense,
it is used for a spectre or ghost. Several instances of
apparitions occur in the Bible ; that of Samuel, raised
by the witch of Endor, has occasioned great disputes.
We find great controversies among authors, in relation
to the reality, the existence or non-existence, the possi¬
bility or impossibility, of apparitions. The Chaldeans,
the Jews, and other nations, have been the steady as-
sertors of the belief of apparitions. The denial of
spirits and apparitions is by some made one of the
marks of infidelity, if not ©f atheism. Many of the ap¬
paritions we are told of in writers, are doubtless mere
delusions of the sense $ many others are fictitious, con¬
trived merely to amuse, or answer some purpose. Ap¬
paritions, it is certain, are machines that on occasion
have been of good service both to generals, to ministers
of state, to priests, and others.
Partial darkness, or obscurity, are the most powerful
means by which the sight is deceived : night is there¬
fore the proper season for apparitions. Indeed the state
of the mind, at that time, prepares it for the admission
of these delusions of the imagination. The fear and
caution which must be observed in the night j the op¬
portunity it affords for ambuscades and assassinations j
depriving us of society, and cutting off many pleasing
trains of ideas, which objects in the light never fail to
introduce, are all circumstances of terror : and perhaps,
on the whole, so much of our happiness depends upon
our senses, that the deprivation of any one may be at¬
tended with proportionable horror and uneasiness. 1 he
notions entertained by the ancients respecting the soul,
may receive some illustration from these principles. In
dark or twilight, the imagination frequently transforms
3 O 2 aa
AFP [ 476 ] A P P
Appaution an inanimate body into a human figure en approach-
ii ing, the same appearance is not to be found : hence
. Apper.I ' they sometimes fancied they saw their ancestors j but
not finding the reality, distinguished these illusions by
the name of shades.
Many of these fabulous narrations might originate
from dreams. There are times of slumber when we are
not sensible of being asleep. On this principle, Hobbes
has ingeniously accounted for the spectre which is said
to have appeared to Brutus. “ We read,” says he,
“ of M. Brutus, that at Philippi, the night before he
gave battle to Augustus Caesar, he saw a fearful appa¬
rition, which is commonly related by historians as a
vision ; but, considering the circumstances, one may
easily judge it to have been but a short dream. For
sitting in his tent, pensive, and troubled with the hor¬
ror of his rash act, it was not hard for him, slumber¬
ing in the cold, to dream of that which most affright¬
ed him 5 which fear, as by degrees it made him wake,
so it must needs make the apparition by degrees to
vanish : and having no assurance that he slept, he could
have no cause to think it a dream, or any thing but a
vision.”—The well known story told by Clarendon, of
the apparition of the duke of Buckingham’s father,
will admit of a similar solution. There was no man
in the kingdom so much the subject of conversation as
the duke; and from the corruptness of his character,
he was very likely to fall a sacrifice to the enthusiasm
of the times. Sir George Villiers is said to have ap¬
peared to the man at midnight: therefore there is the
greatest probability that the man was asleep ; and the
dream affrighting him, made a strong impression, and
was likely to be repeated.
APPARITOR, among the Romans, a general term
to comprehend all attendants of judges and magistrates
appointed to receive and execute their orders. Appa¬
ritor, in England, is a messenger that serves the process
of a spiritual court, ora beadle in a university who car¬
ries the mace.
APAUMEE, in Heraldry, denotes one hand ex¬
tended, with the full palm appearing, and the thumb
and fingers at full length.
APPEAL, in Law, the removal of a cause from an
inferior to a superior court or judge, when a person
thinks himself aggrieved by the sentence of the inferior
judge. Appeals lie from all the ordinary courts of
justice to the house of lords. In ecclesiastical cases,
-f an appeal is brought before a bishop, it may be re-
raoved to the archbishop j if before an archdeacon,
to the court of arches, and thence to the archbishop ;
and fx-om the archbishop’s court to the king in chan¬
cery.
Appeal, in Gommon Law, denotes an accusation bv
a private subject against another for some heinous crime j
demanding punishment on account of the particular in¬
jury suffered, rather than for the offence against the
public.
This private process, for the punishment of public
crimes, had probably its original in those times, when
a private pecuniary satisfaction, called a weregild, was
constantly paid to the party injured, or his relations,
to expiate enormous offences. This was a custom de¬
lved to the English, in common with other noi-thern
nations, from their ancestors the ancient Germans j
Jsstnong whom, according to Tacitus, luitur homicidium
3.,
certo armentorum ac pecorum numero ; recipitque satis- * ,
factionem universa domus. In the same manner, bv the ■ v _
Irish Brehon law, in case of murder, the brehon or
judge was used to compound between the murderer and
the friends of the deceased who prosecuted him, bv
causing the malefactor to give unto them, or to the child
or wife of him that was slain, a recompense which they
called an eriach. And thus we find in the Anglo-
Saxon laws (particularly those of King Athelstan) the
several weregilds for homicide established in progressive
order, from the death of the ceorl or peasant, up to
that of the king himself. And in the laws of Henry
J. we have an account of what other offences were
redeemable by weregild, and what were not so. As,
therefore, during the continuance of this custom, a pro¬
cess was certainly given for recovei'ing the weregild by
the party to whom it was due $ it seems that, when
these offences by degrees grew no longer redeemable,
the private process was still continued, in order to en¬
sure the infliction of punishment upon the offender,
though the party injured was allowed no pecuniary com¬
pensation for the offence.
But though appeals were thus, in the nature of pro¬
secutions for some atrocious injury, committed more im¬
mediately against an individual, yet it also wras ancient¬
ly permitted, that any subject might appeal another
subject of high treason, either in the courts of common
law, or in parliament, or (Tor treasons committed be¬
yond the seas) in the court of the high constable and
marshal. The cognizance of appeals in the latter still
continues in force j and so late as 1631, there was a
trial by battle awarded in the court of chivalry, on such
an appeal of treason : but that in the first was virtually
abolished by the statutes 5 Edw. III. c. 9. and 1 Edw.
III. c. 24. and in the second expressly, by statute I
Hen. IV. c. 14. So that the only appeals now in fyrce
for things done within the realm, are appeals of felony
and mayhem.
An appeal of felony may be brought for crimes com¬
mitted either against the parties themselves or their re¬
lations. The ci'imes against the parties themselves are
larceny, rape, and arson. And for these, as well as for
mayhem, the persons robbed, ravished, maimed, or
whose houses are burnt, may institute this private pro¬
cess. The only crime against one’s relation, for which
an appeal can be brought, is that of killing him, by ei¬
ther murder or manslaughter. But this cannot be
brought by every relation ; but only by the wife for
the death of her husband, or by the heir male for the
death of his ancestor \ which heirship was also confined
by an ordinance of Henry I. to the four nearest de¬
grees of blood. It is given to the wife on account of
the loss of her husband ; therefore, if she marries again,
before or pending her appeal, it is lost and gone: or,
if she marries after judgment, she shall not demand ex¬
ecution. The heir, as was said, must also be heir male,
and such a one as was the next heir by the course of
the common law at the time of the killing of the an¬
cestor. But this rule has three exceptions : 1. If the
person killed leaves an innocent wife, she only and not
the heir, shall have the appeal. 2. If there be no wife,
and the heir be accused of the murder, the person, who
next to him would have been heir male, shall bring the,
appeal. 3. If the wife kills her husband, the heir may
appeal her of the death. And, by the statute of Glou¬
cester, ,s
A P P [ 477 ] A P P
cester, 6 Edw. I. c. 9. all appeals of death must be sued
within a year and a day after the completion of the fe¬
lony by the death of the party : which seems to be only
declaratory of the old common law j for in the Gothic
constitutions we find the same “ prccscriptio annalis,
quce currit adversus actorem, si de homicida ei non con¬
stat intra annum a cccde facta, nec qitenquam interea
at'guat et accuset.
These appeals may be brought previous to any in¬
dictment ; and, if the appellee be acquitted thereon, he
cannot afterwards be indicted for the same ofience. In
like manner as by the old Gothic constitution, if any
offender gained a verdict in his favour, when prosecu¬
ted by the party injured, he was also understood to be
acquitted of any crown prosecution for the same of¬
fence ; but, on the contrary, if he made his peace with
the king, still he might be prosecuted at the suit of the
party. And so, in England, if a man be acquitted on
an indictment of murder, or found guilty, and pardon¬
ed by the king, still he ought not (in strictness) to go at
large, but be imprisoned or let to bail till the year and
day be past, by virtue of the statute 3 Hen. VIII. c. 1.
in order to be forthcoming to answer any appeal for
the same felony, not having as yet been punished for it:
though, if he hath been found guilty of manslaughter
on an indictment, and hath had the benefit of clergy,
mid suffered the judgment of the law, he cannot after¬
wards be appealed : for it is a maxim in law, “ that
nemo bis punitur pro eodem delictod'1 Before this sta¬
tute was made, it was not usual to indict a man for ho¬
micide within the time limited for appeals $ which pro¬
duced very great inconvenience.
If the appellee be acquitted, the appellor (by vir¬
tue of the statute of Westm. 2. 13 Edw. I. c. 12.)
shall suffer one year’s imprisonment, and pay a fine to
the. king, besides restitution of damages to the party
for the imprisonment and infamy which he has sustain¬
ed : and, if the appellor be incapable to make restitu¬
tion, his abettors shall do it for him, and also be liable
to imprisonment. This provision, as was foreseen by
the author of Fleta, proved a great discouragement to
appeals j so that thenceforward they ceased to be in
common use.
If the appellee be found guilty, he shall suffer the
same judgment, as if he had been convicted by indict¬
ment : but with this remarkable difference, that on an
indictment, which is at the suit of the king, the king
may pardon and remit the execution 5 on an appeal
which is at the suit of a private subject, to make an
atonement for the private wrong, the king can no more
pardon it, than he can remit the damages required on
an action of battery. In like manner as, while the
weregild continued to be paid as a fine for homicide,
it could not be remitted by the king’s authority. And
the ancient usage was, so late as Henry IV’s time, that
all the relations of the slain should drag the appellee to
the place of execution : a custom, founded upon that
savage spirit of family resentment which prevailed uni¬
versally through Europe after the irruption of the
northern nations, and is peculiarly attended to in their
several codes of law ; and which prevails even now
among the wild and untutored inhabitants of Ameri¬
ca : as if the finger of nature had pointed it out to
mankind, in their rude and uncultivated state. How¬
ever, the punishpient of the offender may be remitted.
and discharged by the concurrence of all parties inte- Appeal
rested 5 and as the king by his pardon may frustrate 11
an indictment, so the appellant by his release may dis- Appdla-
charge an appeal : “ nam quilibet potest renuneiare ,
juri pro se introducto.”
APPEARANCE, in a general sense, the exterior
surface of a thing, or that which immediately strikes
the senses.
Appearance, in Laiv, signifies a defendant’s filing
a common or special bail, on any process issued out of
a Court of judicature.
APPELLANT, in a general sense, one who appeals.
See Appeal.
Appellants, in church history, an appellation given
to such of the catholic clergy as appeal from the consti¬
tution unigenitus to a general council.
APPELLATION, the name by which any thing
is known or distinguished when spoken of. See Name.
Nothing can be more foreign to the original mean¬
ing of many words and proper names, than their pre¬
sent appellations, frequently owing to the history of
those things being forgotten, or an ignorance of the
language in which they were expressed. Who, for ex¬
ample, when the crier of a court bawls out, “ O yes,
O yes,” would dream that it was a proclamation com¬
manding the talkers to become hearers, being the French
word Oye%, “ listen,” retained in our courts ever since f
the law pleadings were held in French ? Or would any
person suppose that the headland on the French coast,
near Calais, called by our seamen Blackness, would be
so titled from its French name of Blanc Nez, or the
White Headland.
King Henry the Eighth having taken the town of
Boulogne in France, the gates of which he brought to
Hardes in Kent, where they % are still remaining, the
flatterers of that reign highly magnified this action,
which, Porto Bello like, became a popular subject for
signs j and the port or harbour of Boulogne, called
Boulogne Mouth, was accordingly set up at a noted
inn in Holborn. The name of the inn long outliving
the sign and fame of the conquest, an ignorant painter,
employed by a no less ignorant landlord, to paint a new
one, represented it by a bull and a large gaping human
mouth (answering to the vulgar pronunciation of Bull
and Mouth). The same piece of history gave being to
the bull and gate, originally meant for Boulogne gate,
and repx-esented by an embattled gate or entrance into
a fortified town.
The barber'1 s pole has been the subject of many con¬
jectures j some conceiving it to have originated from
the word poll, or head, with several other conceits as
far-fetched and as unmeaning : but the true intention
of that party-coloured staff was to show that the ma¬
ster of the shop practised surgery, and could breathe a
vein as well as mow a beard; such a staff being to this
day, by every village practitioner, put into the hand
of a patient undergoing the operation of phlebotomy. .
The white band which encompasses the staff, was
meant to represent the fillet, thus elegantly twined
about it.
Nor were the chequers, (at this time a common sign
of a public house) less expressive, being the representa¬
tion of a kind of draught-board called tables, show¬
ed that there that game might be played. 1’rom their
colour, which was red, and the similarity to a lattice, m
A P P [ 478 ] A P P
Appella- it ,'vaS corruptly called the red lettuce, which word is
tion frequently used by ancient writers to signify an ale-
11 _ house.
Appetite. rp|]e Spectator has explained the sign of the bell-sa-
vage inn plausibly enough, in supposing it to have been
originally the figure of a beautiful female found in the
woods, called in French la belle sauvage. But another
reason has since been assigned for that appellation,
namely, that the inn was once the property of Lady A-
rabella Savage, and familiarly called Bell Savage's Inn,
probably represented, as at present, by a bell and a sa¬
vage or wild man, which was a rebus for her name;
rebusses being much in fashion in the 16th century } of
which the bolt and tun is an instance.
The three blue balls prefixed to the doors and win¬
dows of pawnbrokers shops, by the vulgar humorously
enough said to indicate that it is two to one that the
things pledged are never redeemed, was in reality the
arms of a set of merchants from Lombardy, who were
the first that publicly lent money on pledges. They
dwelt together in a street, from them named Lombard
Street, in London, and also gave their name to an¬
other at Paris. The appellation of Lombard was for¬
merly all over Europe considered as synonymous with
that of usurer.
At the institution of yeomen of the guards, they
used to wait at table on all great solemnities, and were
ranged near the buffets; this procured them the name
oi buffetiers, not very unlike in sound to the jocular ap-
pellatian of beef-eaters, now given them; though pro¬
bably it was rather the voluntary misnomer of some
wicked wit, than an accidental corruption arising from
ignorance of the French language.
The opprobrious title of bum bayliffe, so constantly
bestowed on the sheriff’s officers, is, according to Judge
Blackstone, only the corruption of bound bayliffe, every
sheriff’s officer being obliged to enter into bonds and
to give security for his good behaviour, previous to his
appointment.
A cordwainer seems to have no relation to the occu¬
pation it is meant to express, which is that of a shoe¬
maker. BxsXcordonier, originally spelt cordaunier, is the
I rench word for that trade ; the best leather used for
shoes coming originally from Cordova in Spain. Spa¬
nish-leather shoes were once famous in England.
APPELLATIVE names, in Grammar, in contra-
distiction to proper names, are such as stand for uni¬
versal ideas, or a whole rank of beings, whether gene¬
ral or special. Thus,yZs/z, bird, man, city, river, are
common or appellative names ; and so are trout, eel,
lobster; for they all agree to many individuals, and
some to many species. See Name.
APPELLEE, among lawyers, the person against
whom an appeal is brought. See Appeal.
APPENDIX, in literature, a treatise or supple¬
ment added at the end of a work, to render it more
complete.
APPERCEPTION, or Adperception, a term
used by Leibnitz and his followers for consciousness.
APPETITE, in a general sense, the desire of en¬
joying some object, supposed to be conducive to our
happiness. When this inclination is guided by reason,
and proportioned to the intrinsic value of the object, it
is called rational appetite ; as, on the other hand, it is
denominated sensitive appetite, when we have only a
blind propensity to a thing, without determinate ideas Appetiti
of the good qualities for which we desire it. |]
Appetites are passions directed to general objects, in Applawi
contradistinction to passions directed to particular ob-
jects, which retain their proper name. Thus we say,
an appetite for fame, for glory, for conquest, for riches ;
but we say the passion of love, of gratitude, of envy,
&c. Appetite may be also distinguished from passion,
since the latter has no existence till a proper object be
presented ; whereas the former exists first, and then is
directed to an object.
Appetite, in Medicine, a certain painful or uneasy
sensation, always accompanied with a desire to eat or
drink.—An excessive appetite is called by physicians
bulimy or fames canina ; a defect or loss of it anorexy ;
and that after things improper for food,/wa.
APPIA via, a way reaching from Rome through
Capua to Brundusium, between 330 and 350 miles long.
Appius Claudius, surnamed Ceecus, in the year of the
city 441, carried it from the Porta Capena to Capua
(Livy, Frontinus). It was afterwards carried on to
Brundusium; but by whom, or when, is uncertain. It
was laid with very hard stone, brought from a great di¬
stance, large, and squared (Diodorus) ; and it was so
wide, that several waggons could go abreast. Statius
calls it the queen of roads. Its course is described by
Horace, Strabo, and Antonine.
APPIAN, an eminent writer of the Roman history
in Greek, under the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian. He
was of a good family in Alexandria in Egypt; whence
he went to Rome, and there distinguished himself so
well as an advocate, that he was chosen one of the pro¬
curators of the empire, and the government of a pro¬
vince was committed to him. He did not complete the
Roman history in a continued series; but wrote distinct
histories of all nations that had been conquered by the
Romans, in which he placed every thing relating to
those nations in the proper order of time. His style is
plain and simple : in the opinion of Phocius, he has
shown the greatest knowledge of military affairs, and
the happiest talent at describing them, of any of the
historians ; for while we read him, we in a manner see
the battles which he describes. Of all this voluminous
work there remains only what treats of the Punic, Sy¬
rian, Parthian, Mithridatic, and Spanish wars, with
those against Hannibal, the civil wars, and the wars in
Illyricum, and some fragments of the Celtic or Gallic
wars.
APPIUS Claudius, a Sabine by birth, one of the
principal inhabitants of Regillum : His shining merit
having drawn the envy of his fellow citizens upon him,
he retired to Rome with all his family. Appius was
admitted into the senate, and was made consul with
Publius Servilius Priscus, in 258 from the building of
Rome ; but he was hated by the plebeians, being an
austere opposer of their clamours and seditions. The
Claudian family continued long one of the most illustri¬
ous of the patrician families in Rome ; and several in
succession of the name of Appius supported the same
stern character that distinguished their first founder.
APPLAUSE, an approbation of something, signi¬
fied by clapping the hands, still practised in theatres.
-—Applause, in antiquity, differed from ACCLAMATION,
as the latter was articulate and performed with the
voice, the former with the hands. Among the Ro-
mansj
A P P [ 479 ] A P P
Applause
II
ppointee.
mans, applause was an artificial musical kind of noise,
made by the audience or spectators to express their sa¬
tisfaction. There were three species of applause, de¬
nominated from the different noises made in them, viz.
JBombuSy Imbrices, and Tester ; the first a confused din,
made either by the hands or the mouth j the second
and third, by beating on a sort of sounding vessels pla¬
ced in the theatres for this purpose.- Persons were in¬
structed to give applause with skill ; and there were
even masters who professed to teach the art. The pro¬
ficients in this way let themselves out for hire to the
vain-glorious among the poets, actors, &c. and were
properly disposed to support a loud applause. These
they called Laudicceni, and 'ZoQox.Xus. At the end of
the play, a loud peal of applause was expected, and
even asked of the audience, either by the chorus or
the persons who spoke last. The formula was Specta-
tores plaudite, or Valete et plaudite. The plausores, or
applauders, were divided into chori, and disposed in
theatres opposite to each other, like the choristers in
cathedrals, so that there was a kind of concert of ap¬
plauses.
APPLE, the fruit of the pyrus malus. See Pyrus,
Botany Index.
Apple of the Tye, a name not unfrequently given to
the pupil. See Anatomy.
Apples of Love. See Lycopersicon, Botany
Index.
Mad Apples. See Melongena, Botany Index.
APPLEBY, the county town of Westmoreland,
where the assizes are held, is seated on the banks of the
river Eden, which almost surrounds it. It was for¬
merly a very considerable town, and had great privi¬
leges : but it is long ago gone to decay, and now only
consists of mean houses in one broad street, which runs
with an easy ascent from north to south ; at the head of
which is the castle, almost entirely surrounded by the
river. It has two churches •, a town-hall, in which the
assizes are held ; a county jail 5 and an hospital for a
governess and twelve widows, founded in 1651 by a
daughter of Lord Clifford. It is governed by a mayor,
twelve aldermen, a common council, and two Serjeants
at mace, &c. It contained 2160 inhabitants in 1811,
and sends two members to parliament. W. Long. 3. 52.
N. Lat. 54. 30.
APPLICATION, in a general sense, is the laying
two things together, in order to discover their agree¬
ment or disagreement.
Application, in Geometry, is used either for divi¬
sion j for applying one quantity to another, whose areas,
but not figure, shall be the same j or, for transferring
a given line into a circle or other figure, so that its
ends shall be in the perimeter of the figure.
Application, in Theology, is particularly used, by
some divines, for the act whereby our Saviour transfers,
or makes over to us, what he had earned or purchased
by his holy life and death. Accordingly it is by this
application of the merits of Christ that we are to be ju¬
stified and entitled to grace and glory. The sacraments
are the ordinary means or instruments whereby this ap¬
plication is effected.
APOGGIATURA, in Music, a small note inserted
by the practical musician, between two others, at some
distance.
APPOINTEE, a foot soldier in the French army
before the revolution, &c. who for long service and bra- Appointee
very received pay above private sentinels. They were lj
suppressed in France, except in the regiment of French
guards, where forty appointees were retained to each 1 ' .
company of 150 men.
Till the year 1670, they had also captains and lieu¬
tenants under the appellation of appointees, who, with¬
out residing in the regiment, received their pay.
Appointee, in Heraldry, the same as aguisee: Thus
we say, a cross appointee, to signify that with trvo angles
at the end cut off, so as to terminate in points.
APPOINTMENT, in a general sense, the same as
Assignation.
Appointment, in a particular sense, denotes a pen¬
sion or salary given by great lords and princes to per¬
sons of worth and parts, in order to retain them in their
service. The term is chiefly used among the French.
The king of France gave large appointments to seve¬
ral of the officers in his service. Appointments differ
from wages, in that the latter are fixed and ordinary,
being paid by the ordinary treasurers •, whereas ap¬
pointments are annual gratifications granted by brevet
for a time uncertain, and are paid out of the privy
purse*
APPOSER signifies an examiner. In the court of
exchequer there is an officer called the foreign apposer.
In the office of confirmation, in the first liturgv of Ed¬
ward VI. the rubric directs the bishop, or such as he
shall appoint, to appose a child ; and a bishop’s exami¬
ning chaplain was anciently called his poser.
APPOSITION, in Grammar, the placing two or
more substantives together, in the same case, without
any copulative conjunction between them ; as Ardebat
Aiexim, delicias domini.
APPRAISER (from ad, “ to,” vlx\A pretium, “ va¬
lue”), one who rates or sets a value upon goods, &c.
He must be a skilful and honest person. It is not a bu¬
siness of itself, but is practised by brokers of household
furniture •, to which set of men the word is chiefly ap¬
plied : Yet upholsterers and other brokers are employ¬
ed, or even any person or persons who are supposed to he
skilled in the commodities to be appraised or valued.
They are employed in cases of death, executions brought
in upon goods, or of stock to be turned over from one
person to another, or divided between copartners j and
are called sworn appraisers, from their taking an oath
to do justice between party and party. They some¬
times appraise on behalf of both sides, each party agree¬
ing to have the same appraiser or appraisers $ some¬
times in opposition, each party choosing one or more of
a side ; and sometimes by commission or deputation of
trustees, masters in chancery, &c.
APPRAISING, the act of rating, valuing or setting
a price on goods, by a person who is a competent judge,
and is authorized thereto. See Appraiser.
APPREHENSION, in Logic, denotes the simple
attention of the mind to an object presented either to
our sense or our imagination, without passing a judge¬
ment or making any inference.
Apprehension, is likewise used to express an ina¬
dequate and imperfect idea ; and thus it is applied to
our knowledge of God, in contradistinction to compre¬
hension.
Apprehension, in Law, signifies the seizing a cri¬
minal, in order to bring him to justice.
APPRENTICE,
A P P
[ 480 ]
A P P
Apprentice, APPRENTICE, (from apprendre, “ to learn,”) one
Apprentice-who is bound" by covenant to serve a tradesman or ar-
t' skip- tificer a certain time, upon condition of the master’s in-
v structing him in his art or mystery.
Apprentices may likewise be bound to husbandmen,
or even to gentlemen ; and they, as well as tradesmen
in England, are compellable to take the children of the
poor, whom the overseers, with the consent of two jus¬
tices, may bind till the age of 24 years. Apprentices
may be discharged on reasonable cause j but if any,
whose premium has been less than ten pounds, run away
from their masters, they are compellable to serve out
the time of absence, or give satisfaction for it, at any
.period within seven years after expiration of the original
contract. Apprentices gain a settlement in that parish
where they last served 40 days 5 and by the" 5th of Eli-
r.abeth, c. 4. they have an exclusive right to exercise
the trade in which they have been instructed, in any
part of England. However, the resolutions of the
courts have in general rather confined than extended the
restriction of this statute. See Blackstone’s Com. vol. i.
p. 426, &c.
In France, the sons of tradesmen, living in their fa¬
ther’s house till seventeen years of age, are reputed to
have served an apprenticeship. In that country, the
times of serving are ditferent in the different professions,
from three years to eight. After serving out an ap¬
prenticeship, the person becomes what they call an as¬
pirant, or candidate for mastership, and is to be exami¬
ned by proper officers as to his skill and proficiency, and
also to exhibit a chef d’’oeuvre or masterpiece in the art
he has been bred to, before he be suffered to set up to
practise for himself.
Anciently, benchers in the inns of court were called
apprentices of the law, in Latin apprenticii juris nobi-
liores ; as appears by Mr Selden’s note on Fortescue :
and so the learned Plowden styles himself. Sir Henry
F inch, in his Nomotechnia, writes himself, apprentice
de ley : Sir Edward Coke in his Inst, says Apprenticii
legis, in pleading, are called homines consiliarii et in
lege penti; and in another place, apprentices and other
counsellors of law.
Apprentices indentures and articles of clerkship, pay
of duty 6s. Parish indentures are excepted, and pay
6d. only, by 5 William HI. c. 21. For fees given with
apprentices, clerks, or servants, bound or articled by
indentures, from il. to 5ol» masters pay for every pound
6d. •, and for fees above 50!. one shilling in the pound.
8 Ann. c. 9.
I or an account of the more recent statutes and re¬
gulations on this subject, see Apprentice, Supple¬
ment.
APPRENTICESHIP, the servitude of an appren¬
tice, or the duration of his indenture.
Seven years seem anciently to have been, all over
Europe, the usual term established for the duration of
apprenticeships in the greater part of incorporated
trades. All such incorporations were anciently called
universities, which indeed is the proper Latin name
for any incorporation whatever. The university of
smiths, the university of taylors, &c. are expressions
which we commonly meet with in the old charters of
ancient towns. When those particular incorporations
which are now peculiarly called universities were first
established, the term ol years which it was necessary to
study, in order to obtain the degree of master of arts, Apprentil
appears evidently to have been copied from the term of ship,
apprenticeship in common trades, of which the incorpo- ''““'V"
rations were much more ancient. As to have wrought
seven years under a master properly qualified was ne¬
cessary in order to entitle any person to become a ma¬
ster, and to have himself apprentices in a common trade j
so to have studied seven years under a master properly
qualified was necessary to entitle him to become a ma¬
ster, teacher or doctor (words anciently synonymous),
in the liberal arts, and to have scholars or apprentices
(words likewise orginally synonymous) to study under
him.
By the 5th of Elizabeth, commonly called the sta¬
tute of apprenticeship, it was enacted, that no person
should for the future exercise any trade, craft, or my¬
stery at that time exercised in England, unless he had
previously served to it an apprenticeship of seven years
at least 5 and what before had been the bye-law of
many particular corporations, became in England the ge¬
neral and public law of all trades carried on in market
towns. For though the words of the statute are very
general, and seem plainly to include the 'whole kingdom,
by interpretation its operation has been limited to mar¬
ket towns ; it having been held, that in country villages
a person may exercise several different trades, though
he has not served a seven years apprenticeship to each,
they being necessary for the conveniency of the inhabi¬
tants, and the number ot people frequently not being
sufficient to supply each with a particular set of hunds.
By a strict interpretation of the words, too, the ope¬
ration of this statute has been limited to those trades
which were established in England before the 5th of
Elizabeth, and has never been extended to such as have
been introduced since that time. This limitation has
given occasion to several distinctions which, considered
as rules of police, appear as foolish as can well be ima¬
gined. It has been adjudged, for example, that a
coachmaker can neither himself make, nor employ jour¬
neymen to make his coach wheels, but must buy them
of a master wheelwright, this latter trade having been
exercised in England before the 5th of Elizabeth. But
a wheelwright, though he has never served an appren¬
ticeship to a coachmaker, may either himself make, or
employ a journeyman to make, coaches j the trade of a
coachmaker not being within the statute, because not
exercised in England at the time when it wras made.
The manufacturers of Manchester, Birmingham, and
Wolverhampton, are many of them upon this account
not within this statute $ not having been exercised in
England before the 5th of Elizabeth.
In France the duration of apprenticeships is different
in different towns and in different trades. In Paris, five
years is the term required in a great number j but be¬
fore any person can be qualified to exercise the trade as
a master, he must, in many of them, serve five years
more as a journeyman. During this latter terra he is
called the companion of his master, and the term itself is
called his companionship.
In Scotland there i§ no general law which regulates
universally the duration of apprenticeships. The term
is different in different corporations. Where it is long,
a part of it may generally be redeemed by paying a
small fine. In most towns, too, a very small fine is
sufficient to purchase the freedom of any corporation.
The
A P P t 481 1 A P P
\ppfen- The weavers of linen and hempen cloth, the principal
ticeships manufactures of the country, as well as all other arti-
Apprising. fleers subservient to them, wheelmakers, reedmakers,
$;C. may exercise their trades in any town corporate
without paying any fine. In all towns corporate, all
persons are free to sell butcher’s meat upon any lawful
day of the week. Three years is in Scotland a com¬
mon term of apprenticeship, even in some very nice
trades : and in general there is no country in Europe
in which corporation laws are so little oppressive.
Apprenticeships were altogether unknown to the
ancients. The reciprocal duties of master and appren¬
tice make a considerable article in every modern code.
The Roman law is perfectly silent with regard to them.
There is no Greek or Latin word which expresses the
idea we now annex to the word apprentice 5 a servant
bound to work at a particular trade for the benefit of
a master during a term of years, upon condition that
the master shall teach him that trade.
Wealth of Long apprenticeships Dr Smith considers as alto-
yations, gether unnecessary. The arts which are much supe-
rior to common trades, such as those of making clocks
and watches, contain no such mystery as to require a
long course of instruction. The first invention of such
beautiful machines, indeed, and even that of some
of the instruments employed in making them, must, no
doubt, have been the work of deep thought and long
time, and may justly be considered as among the hap¬
piest eft’orts of human ingenuity : but when both
have been fairly invented and are well understood $ to
explain to any young man, in the completest manner,
how to apply the instruments, and how to construct
the machines, cannot well require more than the les¬
sons of a few weeks j perhaps those of a few days might
be sufficient. In the common mechanic trades, those
of a few days might certainly be sufficient. The dex¬
terity of hand, indeed, even in common trades, cannot
be acquired without much practice and experience.
But a young man would practise with much more
diligence and attention, if from the beginning he
wrought as a journeyman, being paid in proportion
to the little work which he could execute, and pay¬
ing in his turn for the materials which he might
sometimes spoil through awkwardness and inexperi¬
ence. His education in this way generally would be
more effectual, and always less tedious and expensive.
The master, indeed, would be a loser j he would lose
all the wages of the apprentice, which he now saves,
for seven years together. In the end, perhaps, the
apprentice himself would be a loser. In a trade so
easily learnt he would have more competitors *, and
bis w'ages when he came to be a complete workman,
would be much less than at present. The same in¬
crease of competition would reduce the profits of the
masters as well as the wages of the workmen. The
trades, the crafts, the mysteries, would be all losers;
but the public would be a gainer : the work of all ar¬
tificers coming in this way much cheaper to market.
APPRISING, in Scots Law, the name of that ac¬
tion by which a creditor formerly carried off the estate
of his debtor for payment. It is now abolished, and
adjudications are appointed in place of it. Adju¬
dications, charter, resignation, dare constat, cognition
of heirs, heritable right, confirmation, novodamus,
principal and original instrument of surrender, retour,
Vol. II. Part II. f
seisin, and service in Scotland, pay by different acts Appri>lr?g
4s. 9d. duty. II
APPROACH, or Approaching, in a general Appropna-
sense, the acceding or coming together of two or more . ^ ' .
things.
APPROACHES, in Fortification, the works thrown
up by the besiegers, in order to get nearer a fortress,
without being exposed to the enemy’s cannon.
APPROACHING, in fowling, a term used to ex¬
press such devices as are contrived for the getting with¬
in shot of shy birds. It is principally used in marshy
low places. The best method of approaching is by
means of three hoops tied together at proper distances
according to the height of the man that is to use it,
and having boughs of trees tied all round it, with cords
to hang it over his shoulders: a man getting into this,
conceals himself, and approaches by degrees towards
his game in the form of a moving bush. Geese, ducks,
and teal, quit the waters in the evening, and pass the
night in the fields \ but at the approach of morning
they return to the water again, and even when on the
water they will retire to great distances, on the ap¬
proach even of a horse or cow, so that the business of
the stalking horse is of little use; but this device of ap¬
proaching by the moving bush succeeds tolerably well
with them.
Approaching, in Gardening, the inoculating or
ingrafting the sprig of one tree into another, without
cutting it off the parent tree.
APPROBATION, a state or disposition of the
mind, wherein we put a value upon, or become pleased
with, some person or thing. Moralists are divided on
the principle of approbation, or the motive which de¬
termines us to approve and disapprove. The Epicu¬
reans will have it to be only self-interest: according to
them, that which determines any agent to approve his
own action, is its apparent tendency to his private hap¬
piness ; and even the approbation of another’s action
flows from no other cause but an opinion of its tenden¬
cy to the happiness of the approver, either immediate¬
ly or remotely. Others resolve approbation into a mo¬
ral sense, or a principle of benevolence, by which we are
determined to approve every kind affection either in
ourselves or others, and all publicly useful actions,
which we imagine to flow from such affection, without
any view therein to our own private happiness.
Approbation, is more particularly used, in speak¬
ing of recommendations of books, given by persons
qualified or authorized to judge of them. Those ap¬
pointed to grant licenses and imprimaturs, frequently
express their approbation of books. Books were for¬
merly subjected to a licenser in England, (see 13th
Car. II. c. 33.), which act is long since expired ; and
being incompatible with the noble principles of the
Revolution, has never since been, and it is hoped never
will be, revived.
APPROPRIATION, in the canon law, a sever¬
ing of a benefice ecclesiastical to the proper and per¬
petual use of some religious house. See the article
Parson.
The contrivance of appropriations seems to have
sprung from the policy of the monastic orders, who
have never been deficient in subtle inventions for the
increase of their own power and emoluments. At
the first establishment of parochial clergy, the tithes
3 P
A P P [ 482 ] A P P
Appropria- of the parish were distributed in a fourfold division j
tion. one for the use of the bishop, another for main-
' taining the fabric of the church, a third for the poor,
and the fourth to provide for the incumbent. When
the sees of the bishops became otherwise amply endow¬
ed, they were prohibited from demanding their usual
share of these tithes, and the division was into three
parts only. And hence it was inferred by the mo¬
nasteries, that a small part was sufficient for the offi¬
ciating priest ; and that the remainder might well be
applied to the use of their own fraternities (the en¬
dowment of which was construed to be a work of the
most exalted piety), subject to the burden of repairing
the church and providing for its constant supply. And
therefore they begged and bought, for masses and
obits, and sometimes even for money, all the advovvsons
within their reach, and then appropriated the benefices
to the use of their own corporation. But, in order to
complete such appropriation effectually, the king’s li¬
cense, and consent of the bishop, must first be obtain¬
ed ; because both the king and the bishop, may some
time or other have an interest, by lapse, in the pre¬
sentation to the benefice ; which can never happen
if it be appropriated to the use of a corporation,
which never dies : and also because the law reposes a
confidence in them, that they will not consent to any
thing that shall be to the prejudice of the church. The
consent of the patron also is necessarily implied, be¬
cause the appropriation can be originally made to
none but to such spiritual corporation as is also the
patron of the church $ the whole being indeed nothing
else but an allowance for the patrons to retain the
tithes and glebe in their own hands, without present¬
ing any clerk, they themselves undertaking to provide
for the service of the church. When the appropriation
is thus made, the appropriators and their successors are
perpetual parsons of the church ; and must sue and be
sued, in all matters concerning the rights of the church
by the name of parsons.
This appropriation may be severed, and the church
become disappropriate, two ways ; as, first, If the pa¬
tron or appropriator presents a clerk, who is instituted
and inducted to the parsonage: for the incumbent so
instituted and inducted is to all intents and purposes
complete parson j and the appropriation being once se¬
vered, can never be reunited again, unless by a repe¬
tition of the same solemnities. And, when the clerk
so presented is distinct from the vicar, the rectory thus
vested in him becomes what is called a sinecure ; be¬
cause he hath no cure of souls, having a vicar under
him to whom that cure is committed. Also, if the
corporation which has the appropriation is dissolved,
the parsonage becomes disappropriate at common law $
because the perpetuity of person is gone, which is ne¬
cessary to support the appropriation.
In this manner, and subject to these conditions, may
appropriations be made at this day : and thus were
most, if not all of the appropriations at present exist-
ing originally made ; being annexed to bishoprics, pre¬
bends, religious houses, nay, even to nunneries, and
certain military orders, all of which were spiritual cor¬
porations. At the dissolution of monasteries, by statutes
27 Hen. VIII. c. 28. and 31 Hen. VIII. c. 13. the
appropriation of several parsonages, which belonged
to those respective religious houses (amounting to more
2
than one third of all the parishes in England), would Approver
have been by the rules of the common law disappro- n
printed $ had not a clause in those statutes intervened, Appalse.
to give them to the king in as ample a manner as the
abbots, &c. formerly held the same at the time of
their dissolution. This, though perhaps scarcely de¬
fensible, was not without example : for the same was
done in former reigns, when the alien priories (that is,
such as were filled by foreigners only) were dissolved
and given to the crown. And from these two roots
have sprung all the lay appropriations or secular par¬
sonages which we now see in the kingdom j they having
been afterwards granted out from time to time by the
crown. See the article Parson and Vicar.
APPROVER, in Law, one who, professing felony
in himself, appealeth or impeacheth another or more of
his accomplices. He is so called from the French
approuver, comprobare, because he must prove what he
hath alleged in his appeal. This proof was anciently
either by battle, or by the country, at the choice of the
appellee ; and the form of this accusation may be found
in Crompt. Just. 250.
Approvers of the king, are those who have the
letting of the king’s demesnes in small manors, &c.
In the statute of the 1st of Ed. III. c. 8. sheriffs are
called the king’s approvers.
It being in the discretion of the court to suffer one
to be an approver, this method of late hath seldom
been practised. But we have, in cases of burglary and
robbery on the high way, what seems to amount to the
same by statute} it being ordained, that where persons
charged with such crimes out of prison, discover two
others concerned in the crime, they shall have a pardon,
&c. Stat. 5th Anne, c.-3i.
Approver is particularly used, in ancient law writ¬
ers, for a bailiff or land steward, appointed to have the
care of a manor, franchise, or the like, and improve
and make the most of it for the benefit of his mastei’.
In this sense, the word is also written appruare.
APPROXIMATION, in Arithmetic and Algebra,
the coming nearer and nearer to a x’oot, or other quan¬
tity sought, without expecting to be ever able to find it
exactly.
APPUI, in the manege, (q. d. rest to stay upon the
hand), is the reciprocal effort between the horse’s mouth
and the bridle-hand, or the sense of the action of the
bridle on the hand of the horseman.
A just appui of the hand, is the nice bearing up or
stay of the bi'idle, so that the horse, being awed by the
sensibility and tenderness of his mouth, dares not rest
too much upon the bitmouth, nor check or beat upon
the hand to withstand it. A horse is said to have
no appui, when he is too apprehensive of the hand,
and cannot bear the bit. He is said to have too much
appui, w7hen he rests or throws himself too much upon
the bit. Horses designed for the army ought to have
a full appui upon the hand. To give a horse a good
appui, he should be galloped, and put often back.
APPULSE, in Astronomy, the approach of any
planet, to a conjunction with the sun, or a star. It is a
step towards a transit, occultation, conjunction, eclipse,
&c. Mr Flamsted, M. de la Hire, and others, have
given observations of the moon’s appulses to the Pleia¬
des. Phil. Trans. N° 76. p. 361. M. Acad. Science,
an. 1708.
APRICOT,
APT [ 483 ] A P U
Apricot APRICOT, in Botany. See Prunus.
|; APRIES, son of Psammis, king of Egypt; the
Apia, same with Pharaoh Hophrah in Jeremiah and Ezekiel.
v " He ruined Sidon, and some say he put Jeremiah to
death. He thought neither God nor man could de¬
throne him ; which yet was easily done by Amasis,
and he himself was strangled by the Egyptians.
APRIL, the fourth month of the year, according
to the common computation j but the second, accord¬
ing to that of the astronomers. It contains 30 days.—
The word is derived from aprilis, of aperio, “ I open
because the earth, in this month, begins to open her
bosom for the production of vegetables. In this month
the sun travels through the sign of Taurus.
A PRIORI, a kind of demonstration. See De¬
monstration.
APRON, in Naval Architecture, is a piece of cur¬
ved timber fixed behind the lower part of the stern,
immediately above the foremost end of the keel.
Apron is also a name given to a platform or floor¬
ing of plank, raised at the entrance of a dock, against
which the dock gates are shut.
Apron, in Gunnery, a piece of lead which caps or
covers the vent or touch-hole of a great gun.
APSIS, or Absis, signifies the bowed or arched
roof of a house, room, or oven, &c. as also the ring or
compass of a wheel.
Apsis, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes an inner part
in the ancient churches, wherein the clergy sat, and
where the altar was placed. It is supposed to have
been thus called, because covered with an arch or
vault of its own, by the Greeks called a^if, by the
Latins adsis. Apsis, in this sense, amounts to the
same with what is otherwise called choir, concha, came¬
ra, and presbyterium ; and stands opposed to the nave
or body of the church.
Apsis is more particularly used for the bishop’s seat,
or throne, in ancient churches. This was peculiarly
called apsis gradata, because raised on steps above the
ordinary stalls. It was also denominated exedra, and
in latter times tribune.
Aspis is also used for a reliquary, or case, wherein
the relicks of saints were anciently kept. It took the
name apsis, from its being round or arched at the
top 5 or perhaps from the place where it was kept.
The apsis was commonly placed on the altar : it was
usually of wood, sometimes also of gold and silver,
with sculptures, &c.
Apsis, in Astronomy, a term used indifferently for
either of the two points of a planet’s orbit, where it
is at greatest or least distance from the sun or earth ;
and hence the line connecting those points ist called the
line of the apsides. The word is Greek, and derived
from mtttm, to connect. The apsis, at the greatest di¬
stance from the sun, is called the aphelion, and at the
greatest distance from the earth the apogee ; while that
at the least distance from the sun is termed the perihe¬
lion, and at the least distance front the earth the peri-
gcc •
APSIRTIDES. See Absorus.
APTA, or Apta Julia, (Pliny) ; now Apte, in
Provence, on the river Calavon, seven leagues to the
north of Aix, and nine to the north of Avignon. In
the Notitiae it is called Civitas Aptensium : Pliny rec¬
kons it among the Latin towns. That it was a co¬
lony, appears from an inscription on a stone found at Apia
Arles, (Sirmond). E. Long. 5. 56. N. Lat. 43. 23.
APT ERA, (Strabo, Stepbanus) ; Aptyron, (Pli- Apuleius.
ny) ; Apteria, (Ptolemy) : An inland town of Crete, ‘■““•“v—
whose port was Cisamus, on the west side of the island,
(Strabo); 12 miles to the south of Cydonia towards
the Montes Leuci, and as many from the Sinus Am-
phimales. So called from the Sirens, who, being there
vanquished in song by the Muses, stript themselves of
their wings, and out of grief leaped into the sea, (Ste-
phanus). There was a town of Lycia of the same
name. E. Long. 25. N. Lat. 35. 50.
Aptera, a term used by Linnaeus for his seventh
order of insects, comprehending such as have no wings.
APTHANE, a title anciently given to the higher
degrees of nobility in Scotland. See Thane.
APTITUDE, (from aptus, “ fit”), the natural dis¬
position any thing hath to serve for such or such a pur¬
pose.—Thus, oil hath an aptitude to burn, and water to
extinguish fire.
Aptitude, or Aptness, is often used, in speaking
of the talents of the mind, for a promptitude, or dis¬
position to learn things with ease and expedition : in
which sense aptness amounts to the same with what the
Greeks call ivpxitK, bona indoles, and ive sometimes do¬
cility. Charlton divides aptness into three parts, viz.
acuteness, sagacity, and memory.
APTOTE, among grammarians, an indeclinable
noun, or one which has no variation of cases.
APULEIUS, Lucius, a Platonic philosopher,
universally known by his performance of the Golden
Ass. He lived in the second century, under the An-
tonines; and was born at Madura, a Roman colony
in Africa. He studied first at Carthage, then at
Athens, and afterwards at Rome, where he learned the
Latin tongue without the help of a master. He was
a man of a curious and inquisitive disposition, especial¬
ly in religious matters: this prompted him to take se¬
veral journeys, and to enter into several societies of re¬
ligion. He spent his whole fortune almost in travel¬
ling ; so that, at his return to Rome, when he was about
to dedicate himself to the service of Osiris, he had not
money enough to defray the expence attending the ce¬
remonies of the reception, and was obliged to pawn
his clothes to raise the necessary sum. He supported
himself afterwards by pleading causes : and as he was
a great master of eloquence, and of a subtle genius,
many considerable causes were trusted to him. Rut he
availed himself more by a good marriage than by his
pleadings ; a widow, named Pudentilla, who was nei¬
ther young nor handsome, but wanted a husband and
was very rich, took a great fancy to him. This mar¬
riage drew upon him a troublesome law suit. The la¬
dy’s relations, pretending he made use of sorcery to
gain her heart and money, accused him of being a ma¬
gician before Claudius Maximus proconsul of Africa.
Apuleius was under no great difficulty of making his
defence. As Pudentilla was determined, from consi¬
derations of health, to enter upon a second marriage,
even before she had seen this pretended magician, the
youth, deportment, pleasing conversation, vivacity, and
other agreeable qualities of Apuleius, were charms’ suf¬
ficient to engage her heart. He had the most favour¬
able opportunities too of gaining her friendship, for he
lodged some time at her house : Pudentilla’s eldest son
% 3 I* 2 having
A P U [ 484 1 A Q U
Apuleius having a great friendship for him, was likewise desirous
II of the match, and solicited him in favour of Puden-
A{>11<;- tilla. “ Do you make a wonder said Apuleius, in his
defence) that a woman should marry again, after ha¬
ving lived a widow 13 years P It is much more wonder¬
ful that she did not marry again sooner. You think
that magic must have been employed to prevail with a
widow of her age to marry a young man ; on the con¬
trary, this very circumstance shows how little occasion
there was for magic.” He offered to prove by his
marriage-contract, that he got nothing of Pudentilla
but a promise of a very moderate sum, in case he sur¬
vived her and had children by her. He was also obli¬
ged to make such confessions in court as Pudentilla
would gladly have excused He said she was neither
handsome nor young, nor such as could any ways tempt
him to have recourse to enchantments : moreover, he
added, that Pontiamas her son proposed the marrying
his mother to him only as a burden, and the action of a
friend and philosopher. He also took notice of many
inconveniences which attend the marrying of widows,
and spoke highly of the advantages of a maid above a
widow : “ A handsome virgin (said he), let her be ever
so poor, is abundantly portioned ; she brings to her
husband a heart quite new, together with the flower
and first fruits of her beauty. It is with great reason
that all husbands set so great a value upon the flower
of virginity: all the other goods which a woman brings
her husband are of such a nature, that he may return
them again, if he has a mind to be under no obliga¬
tion to her : that alone cannot be restored, it remains
in the possession of the first husband. If you marry a
widow, and she leaves you, she carries away all that she
brought you.” Upon which passage Mr Bayle makes
a very coarse remark, viz. “ That this good which is
never taken back out of the hands of a husband, is
very chimerical j and that there is never a baker nor
a butcher, who would lend sixpence upon this un¬
perishable possession.” The apology is still extant, and
is reckoned a very fine piece. Apuleius was extremely
indefatigable in his studies: and composed several
books, some in verse, and others in prose ; but most
of them have been lost. He took great pleasure in de¬
claiming, and was heard generally with great applause:
When he declaimed at Oec?., the audience cried out
with one voice, that they ought to confer upon him
the honour of citizen. The citizens of Carthage heard
him with great satisfaction, and erected a statue to
him 5 and several other cities did him the same honour.
Several critics have published notes on Apuleius’s
Golden Ass, and there have been translations of it in¬
to different languages.
APULIA, now Puglia, a territory of Italy, bor¬
dering on the Adriatic, and extending from the river
Frento to Tarentum in length, and from the Adriatic
to the Lucani in breadth. Apuli the people (Horace) ;
divided into the Apulia Daunia, now called Puglia
Pinna or the Capitanata ; and into the Apulia Peucetia,
now I'erra di Bari, (Pliny, Ptolemy). Apulia abound¬
ed in sheep, which yielded the finest wool (Martial).
It is now the east side of the kingdom of Naples.
APUS, Avis Indica, in Astronomy, a constellation of
the southern hemisphere placed near the pole, between
the triangulum australe and the chameleon, supposed
tp represent the bird of paradise.,
APYCNI suoni, in Music, sounds distant one or
more octaves, and yet concord.
APYCNOS, in Music, is said of the diatonic genus,
on account of its having spacious intervals, in compa¬
rison of the chromatic and enharmonic.
APYREXY, among physicians, denotes the inter-
mission of a fever.
APYROUS, a word applied to denote that proper¬
ty of some bodies, by which they resist the most violent
fire without any sensible alteration. Apyrous bodies
ought to be distinguished from those which are refrac¬
tory. Refractory substances are those which cannot
by violent heat be fused, whatever other alteration they
may sustain. But a body, properly speaking, apyrous,
can neither be fused by heat, nor can undergo any
other change. Diamonds were long thought to be
possessed of this property. But some late experiments
have shown, that diamonds may be entirely dissipated
or evaporated by heat, and are therefore not entitled
to be ranked among apyrous substances. Perhaps there
is no body in nature essentially and rigorously apyrous.
But it is sufficient that there be bodies apyrous rela¬
tively to the degree of fire which art can produce, to
entitle them to that name.
AQUA, a term frequently met with in the writings
of physicians, chemists, &c. for certain medicines, or
menstruums, in a liquid form, distinguished from each
other by peculiar epithets, as Aqua Alexiteria, Aqua
Aluminosa, Aqua Mirabilis, &fc. for which see Phar¬
macy.
Aqua Extincta, or Extinguished Water, is aquafortis
into which some river water has been poured, in order
to qualify it, and render it less corrosive. Its use is
to get the silver from the aquafortis that served to part
gold from it.
Aqua Fortis, a name given by artists to nitric acid
of a certain strength, from its dissolving power. See
Chemistry Index.
Aqua Marina, a name by which the jewellers call
the beryl, on account of its sea-green colour. See
Beryl.
Aqua Regia, a compound of nitric and muriatic
acid, in different proportions according to the purpose
for which it is intended. It is usually made by dis¬
solving in nitric acid, sal ammoniac, or common salt,
both which are combinations of muriatic acid with al¬
kali. When made with sal ammoniac, the common
proportion is one part of this salt to four parts of nitric
acid 5 but to dissolve platina, equal parts are requisite.
A purer aqua regia may be made by simply mixing the*
two acids. It is particularly used as a menstruum for
gold 5 it likewise dissolves all other metals, except sil¬
ver. The gold dissolved in aqua x-egia is, in fact, dis¬
solved in the oxygenated muriatic acid only, which
gives out its oxygen to the gold, and then dissolves the
oxide : for metals are not soluble in acids until they
are oxidated. See Chemistry Index.
Aqua Secunda, aquafortis diluted with much pure
water. It is employed in several arts, to clear the
surface of metals and certain stones.
Aqua Tofana, a poison much used in Italy in the
seventeenth century. See Supplement.
Aqua Vitce, is commonly understood of what is-
otherwise called brandy, or spirit of wine either sim¬
ple, or prepared with aromatics. Some, however^
distinguish
Apycni
11
Aqua Vi-
tse.
A Q U [ 485 1 A Q U
Vj. distinguish between them j appropriating the term
brandy to what is drawn from wine, or the grape; and
aqua vitce to that drawn after the same manner from
Pan' malt, &c.
a8, . Aqum Augusta (Ptolemy) 5 Aqua Tarhellicce (An-
tonine) $ Aquensis Civitas, in the Notitia. Now Acqs,
or Dax, a town in Gascony, on the river Adour, fa¬
mous for its baths. W. Long. 1. 40. N. Lat. 43.
56.
Aqum Bilbilitance, (Antonine) : baths 24 miles to
the west of Bilbilis. Now Banos de Alhama, in Ara-
gon.
AdUJE Calidce, (Ptolemy) ; Aquce Solis, (Antonine) j
a place of the Belgae in Britain, famous for its hot
waters. Now Bath in Somersetshire. W. Long. 1. 5.
Lat. 51. 20.
Aqua Calidce, (Ptolemy) \ Aquicaldensis, (Pliny) ;
formerly in great repute, and a public bath 5 whose
ruins still remain, testimonies of the Roman grandeur.
Now Orense, in Galicia, still famous for its baths ; on
the river Minho, 54 miles south-east of Compostella.
W. Long. 8. 30. N. Lat. 42. 30. Also a place in the
bay of Carthage, (Strabo). Other Aquicaldenses, to
the north of Gerunda in Catalonia, (Ptolemy).
Aqua Calidce, a colony between the rivers Serbetes
and Savus, in Mauritania Csesariensis (Ptolemy).
Aqua Celeina, (Ptolemy) ; or Cilince, (Antonine).
Now Caldas, a hamlet on the Minho, in Galicia.
Aqua Convenarum, a hamlet of Gaul, in Aquitaine,
(Antonine), and on the borders of the Convenae, or
le Cominge, at the foot of the Pyrenees, near the source
of the Garonne. Now Bagneres. W. Long. 3. 39.
N. Lat. 42. 20.
Aqua Cutilice, a lake of the Sabines, in the territo¬
ry of Reat (Pliny) j Lacus Cutiliensis, (Varro) j with a
moveable island in it, (Seneca, Pliny) ; supposed to be
the centre of Italy, (Varro). The waters were me¬
dicinal, and extremely cold, good for a weak stomach
and in weak nerves they seemed to act by a kind
of suction, which approached to a bite, (Pliny). Ves¬
pasian used them every summer and there he died,
(Sueton. Xiphilin from Dio). Now Logo di Contig-
liano.
Aqua Flavice, a town on the confines of Galicia
and Portugal, so called from Vespasian and Titus. The
inhabitants are called Aquiflavienses on coins. Now
called Chiaves, a mean hamlet j but the ruins ot its
bridge testify its former grandeur. W. Long. 6. 6.
N. Lat. 41. 40.
Aqua Helvetice, described by Tacitus as a murtici-,
pal town, and much frequented for its excellent water 5
and though he. does not mention its name, Cluverius
supposes it to be Baden, in Switzerland, on the ri¬
vulet Limat, which soon after falls into the Aar. It
is called the Upper, to distinguish it from another call¬
ed the Lower Baden, in Alsace. E. Long. 8. 49.
N. Lat. 47. 55.
Aqua Merom (Joshua), famous for the defeat of
Jabin : supposed to be the lake called Samachomtes, or
Setnechonites, by Josephus ; into which the river Jordan
falls, before it comes to the sea of Genesereth, or Ga¬
lilee.
Aqua Pannonia, famous baths of Austria, now call¬
ed. Racfey?, 28 miles to the south of Vienna.
Aqua Patavince, are baths in the territory of V e- Aquse Pa¬
nice near Padua, (Pliny); called Pontes Aponi (Livy, tavime
Martial). Now Bagni cPAbano. E. Long. 13. 48. B
N. Lat. 45. IJ. A<lll”l“ct-.
Aqua Quintiance, put by Ptolemy in room of the
Aquce Cilince of Antonine. Now supposed to be Sarna,
a town of Galicia, on a rivulet of the same name, three
leagues to the south of Lugo.
Aqua Sextice, a colony to the north of Marseilles,
so called both from the founder Sextius Clavinus, and
from its quantity of water, and number of cold and
hot springs ; built after the defeat of the Salyes, or
Salvii, whose territory in the south of Provence, reach¬
ed from the Rhone on the borders of Italy, (Livy, Vel¬
leius, Strabo, Ptolemy). By an inscription the colony
appears to have been either increased or renewed by
Augustus. In the Notitia [iis caWtA Civitas Aquen¬
sis. Now Aix. Here the Teutones and Cimbri were
defeated with great slaughter by Marius. E. Long.
6. 4. N. Lat. 48. 4.
Aqua Statiellce, or Statiellorum, (Pliny), a town in
Liguria, on the river Bormia. Now Acqui, a town of
Montferrat. E. Long. 8. 40. N. Lat. 44. 45.
Aqua Tauri, hot waters or baths in Tuscany, at
the distance of three miles from the sea, said to be
discovered by a bull, hence the appellation. There
are still to be seen the ruins of these baths. Now
Aquapendente, in Orvieto, E. Long. 12. 40. N. Lat.
42. 20.
AQUJEDUCT, in Hydraidics and Architecture, a
structure formed for conveying water from one place to
another, over grounds that are unequal. rIhe word is
compounded of the Latin substantive aqua, water, and
ductus, a channel by which that water may be con¬
ducted.
Architects distinguish two kinds of aquasducts; t\\zvi-
sible, and the subterraneous.—The visible are construct¬
ed in valleys or marshes, and protracted in longitude
or latitude as the situation requires. They are compos¬
ed of adminicula for supporting the arches and con¬
fining the stream, and of arcades.-—The subterraneous
are formed, by piercing the mountains, and conoucting
them below the surface of the earth. They are built of
stone hewn or rough : and covered above with vaults,
or with flat stones, which may be termed flags ; these
flags shelter the waters from the heat of the sun.
They divide them still into double and triple aquue-
ducts; that is to say, such as are supported either by
two or by three ranges of arcades. Such was the aquae-
duct which Procopius records to have been built by
Cosroes king of the Persians, for the city of Petra in
Mingreha ; it had three conduits upon the same line,
each elevated above the other.
Frequently aquseducts are paved. Sometimes the
waters flow through a natural channel of clay. Fre¬
quently they are conveyed by pipes of lead into re¬
servoirs of the same metal, or into troughs of hewn
stone. The channels are cut with an imperceptible
descent, that the current may be accelerated by its
own weight. Parallel to its course, on each side, is cut
a narrow footpath, where people may walk when ne¬
cessary. By conduits, or grooves, the waters are con¬
veyed into large cisterns, but not forced above their
original level. To make them rise and issue from their
apertures
A Q U [ 486 ] A Q U
Aquceduct. apertures with force, they must be confined in tubes of
1—a small diameter, and abruptly fall from a considerable
declivity.
Aquaeducts of every kind were long ago the wonders
of Rome : the vast quantities of them which they had ;
the prodigious expence employed in conducting waters
over arcades from one place to another, at the distance
of 30, 40, 60, and even 100 miles, which were either
continued or supplied by other labours, as by cutting
mountains and piercing rocks j all this ought to sur¬
prise us : nothing like this is undertaken in our times :
we dare not even think of purchasing public conveni-
ency at so dear a rate. Appius the censor advised and
constructed the first aquseduct. His example gave the
public luxury a hint to cultivate these objects ; and the
force of prodigious and indefatigable labour diverted
the course of rivers and floods to Rome. Agrippa, in
that year when he was sedile, put the last hand to the
magnificence of these works. It is chiefly in this re¬
spect that the modern so much resembles the ancient
city of Rome. I1 or this advantage, she is peculiarly
indebted to Sextus V. and to Paul V. who for gran¬
deur and magnificence emulated the masters of the uni-
* See New verse *. There are still to be seen, in different places
of^Italy3 cont*guous t0 Rome, striking remains of these aquse-
vol, i. ducts y arches continued through a long space, over
which were extended the canals which carried the wa¬
ter to the city. I he arches are sometimes low, some¬
times raised to a vast height, to humour the tumidities
or depressions of the ground. There are some which
have two arcades ; one constructed above the other $ and
this precaution was observed, lest the height of a single
arcade, if extended as far as the situation required,
might render the structure less firm and permanent.
They are commonly of bricks : which by their cement
cohere so strongly, that the parts are not separated
without the utmost difficulty.—When the elevations of
the ground were enormous, it became necessary to form
subterraneous aquaeducts. These carried the waters to
to such aquaeducts as were raised above ground, in the
declivity or at the foot of mountains. If the artificial
channel of the water was not susceptible of a downward
bias but by passing through a rock, through this they
cut a passage at the same height with the superior aque¬
duct : such a one may be seen above the city of Tivoli,
and at the place called Vivacaro. The canal which
formed the course of the aquseduct is hewn out of the
rock to the extent of more tharj a mile, about five feet
in height and four in breadth.
There is one thing, however, which deserves to be
remarked. It is, that these aquseducts, which might
have been directed in a straight line to the city, did not
arrive at it but by frequent and winding mazes. Some
nave said that this oblique track was pursued to avoid
the expence which must attend the building of arcades
to an extraordinary height : others, that it was their
intention to diminish the impetuosity of the current $
which, lolling in a straight line through an immense
space, must always have increased its velocity, must
have worn the canals by perpetual and forcible attri¬
tion, and of consequence afforded an impure and un¬
wholesome draught to the inhabitants. But since there
was so great a descent between the cascade of Tivoli
and Rome, it is demanded why they should go to draw
water from the same river at the distance of more than
20 miles higher *, nay, of more than 30 miles, if we A( d
reckon the curvatures of its direction through that
mountainous country P It is replied, the motive of ob¬
taining the water more salubrious and more limpid,
was sufficient to make the Romans think their labour
necessary, and their expence properly bestowed ; and
to those who reflect that the waters of this river were
impregnated with mineral particles, and by no means
wholesome, the answer will appear satisfactory.
If any one will cast his eyes upon Plate 128th of
the Antiquities of Father Montfaucon, he will see
with how much care these immense works were con¬
structed. From distance to distance spiramenta were
left, that, if the water should happen to be stopped by
any accident, it might gradually disembogue, till they
could clear its ordinary passage. There were likewise,
even in the very canals which conveyed the water, ca¬
vities considerably deeper than its internal surface, in¬
to which the stream was precipitated, and where it x’e-
mained stagnant till it was refined from mud and fecu¬
lence ; and ponds, where it might expand itself till it
was purified.
The aquseduct of the Aqua Marcia had an arch ofyol. W,
16 feet in diameter. The whole was composed of three
different kinds of stone j one of them reddish, another
brown, and a third of an earth colour. Above, there
appeared two canals; of which the highest was fed by
the new waters of the Tiverone, and the lower by what
they called the Claudian river. The entire edifice is
70 Roman feet high. Near this aquaeduct, we have in
Father Montfaucon the plan of another with three ca¬
nals ; the highest supplied by the water called Julia,
that in the middle from Tepula, and the lowest from
the Aqua Marcia.
The arch of the aquseduct of the Aqua Claudia is of
hewn stone, very beautiful: that of the aquseduct of
the Af[ua Neronia is of bricks : they are each of them
72 Roman feet in height.
The canal of the aquaeduct which was called the
Aqua Appia, deserves to be mentioned for a singularity
which is observed in it j for it is not, like the others,
plain, nor gradual in its descent j but much narrower
at the lower than the higher end.
The consul Frontinus, who superintended the aquse¬
ducts under the emperor Nerva, mentions nine of them
which had each 13,594 pipes of an inch in diameter.
Vigerus observes, that, in the space of 24 hours, Rome
received 500,000 hogsheads of water.
We might likewise have mentioned the aquaeduct of
Hrusus, and that of Riminius : but we shall satisfy
ourselves with observing here, that Augustus caused all
the aquaeducts to be repaired ; and afterwards pass to
other monuments of the same kind, and still more im¬
portant, which give the most striking ideas of Roman
magnificence.
One of these monuments is the aquaeduct of Metz, of
which a great number of arcades still remain. These
arcades crossed the Moselle, a river which is broad and
vast at that place. The copious sources of Gorze fur¬
nished water for the representation of a sea fight. This
water was collected in a reservoir: from thence it was
conducted by subterraneous canals formed of hewn
stone, and so spacious that a man could walk erect in
them : it traversed the Moselle upon its superb and lof¬
ty arcades, which may still be seen at the distance of
two
A Q U
[ 487 ]
A Q U
Aqtueduct two leagues from Metz $ so nicely wrought and so
[J firmly cemented, that, except those parts in the mid-
Aquanus. which have been carried away by the ice, they have
resisted, and will still resist, the severest shocks of the
most violent seasons. From these arcades, other aquse-
ducts conveyed the waters to the baths, and to the
place where the naval engagement was mimicked.
If we may trust Colmenarus, the aquaeduct of Sego¬
via may be compared with the most admired labours of
antiquity. There still remain 159 arcades, wholly con¬
sisting of stones enormously large, and joined without
mortar. These arcades, with what remains of the edi¬
fice, are 102 feet high j there are two ranges of ar¬
cades, one above another. The aqueduct flows through
the city, and runs beneath the greatest number of houses
which are at the lower end.
After these exorbitant structures, we may be in some
degree believed when we speak of the aqueduct which
Louis XIV. caused to be built near Maintenon, for
carrying water from the river Bucq to Versailles : it is
perhaps the greatest aqueduct which now subsists in
the world : it is 700 fathoms in length, and contains
242 arcades.
AQUAMBOE, one of the greatest monarchies on
the coast of Guinea in Africa, stretching 20 miles in
breadth, and ten times that space in length from east to
west. According to Bosman, the coast is divided in¬
to a great number of petty royalties, but all of them
subject to the king of Aquamboe, who indiscrimi¬
nately uses an unlimited authority over them and the
meanest of his subjects. His despotism gave rise to a
proverbial saying, that “ there are only two ranks of
men at Aquamboe; the royal family, and slaves.”
The natives of this country are haughty, turbulent,
and warlike 5 and their power is formidable to all the
neighbouring nations. They grievously infest such na¬
tions as are tributaries to the king of Aquamboe, en¬
tering their territories by troops, and carrying off
from the inhabitants whatever they think proper; nor
do they ever meet with any opposition from the inha¬
bitants, as they are sensible the king would not fail to
resent this as an indignity offered to him.
AQUAPENDENTE. See Fabricius.
AQUARIANS, Christians in the primitive church
who consecrated water in the eucharist instead of wine.
This they did under pretence of abstinence and tempe¬
rance ; or, because they thought it universally unlaw¬
ful to eat flesh or drink wine. Epiphanius calls them
Encratites, from their abstinence j St Austin, Aqua¬
rians, from their use of water j and Theodoret, who
says they sprang from Tatian, Ilydroporastatce, because
they offered water instead of T ine.
Besides these, there was another sort of Aquarians,
who did not I'eject the use of wine as unlawful j for
they administered the eucharist in wine at evening
service ; but, in their morning assemblies, they com¬
monly used water, for fear the smell of wine should
discover them to the heathens.
AQUARIUS, the Water-carrier, in Astrono¬
my, the nth sign of the zodiac, reckoning from A-
ries ; from which also the nth part of the ecliptic
takes its name.—The sun moves through Aquarius in
the month of January $ it is marked thus,
The poets feign, that Aquarius was Ganymede,
whan Jupiter ravished under the shape of an eagle,.
and carried away into heaven, to serve as a cup- Aquarius
bearer, in the room of Hebe and Vulcan ; whence the H
name.—Others hold, that the sign was thus called, Aqnatinta,
because, when it appears in the horizon, the weather
usually proves rainy.
The stars in the constellation Aquarius, in Ptole¬
my’s catalogue, are 45 j in Tycho’s 41 j in Hevelius’s
47 ; in Flamsted’s 108.
AQUARTIA. See Botany Index.
AQUATIC, in Natural History, an appellation gi¬
ven to such things as live or grow in water.
AQUATINTA, a method of etching on copper,
lately invented, by which a soft and beautiful colour is
produced, resembling a fine drawing in water colours
or Indian ink.
Previous to the operation upon the plate, the fol¬
lowing powder must be prepared.—Take of aspbaltum
and fine transparent rosin, equal parts, suppose two
ounces of each, and pound them separately. Through
a muslin sieve (which may be formed with part of a
chipbox of three or four inches diameter) sift upon a
sheet of paper a thin stratum of the asphaltum, above
which sift a similar layer of the rosin, and upon this
another layer of asphaltum, continuing these alternate
layers till both of the powders are exhausted j then
pass the mixtures through the same sieve upon the paper
once or twice, or till both appear to be sufficiently in¬
corporated ; when the powder is ready for use. Some, in¬
stead of the above mixture, use gum sandarach pounded.
The main process is as follows:—A copperplate be¬
ing polished in the usual way, lay the etching ground
upon it, and etch the outlines of your design in the
manner directed under the article Etching : The
ground is then to be softened with a little grease, and
wiped off" with a piece of rag: leaving, however, as
much grease upon the plate as just to dim the cop¬
per. You now sift your powder upon the surface of
the plate; after which, strike the other side of it pret¬
ty smartly against the edge of the table, in order to
discharge it of the loose powder: This done, with a
hand-vice hold the back of the plate over a chaffing
dish of charcoal fire, till it become so hot as to give
pain upon being touched with the back of the hand j
and the powder which adhered to the grease will now
be fixed to the plate. The plate being then suffered
to cool, take turpentine varnish mixed with ivory
black j and with a hair pencil dipt in it, cover all the
lights or places where there is no work or shades. A
rim or border of bees-w7ax is now to be raised under
the plate : Then having reduced the aquafortis to a
proper strength by vinegar or water, you pour it on,
and let it stand five minutes for the first or lightest
shade : after which, pour it off j and having washed
the plate with water, set it on edge to dry r Then with
the varnish stop up your light shades : pour on the
aquafortis for the second tint, and let it stand five mi¬
nutes more ; proceeding in the same manner for every
lint till you produce the darkest shades. If a bold
open ground is wanted in any part, this requires an
after operation: The ground must be laid as the other,
by sifting on the powder 5 only this powder is much
coarser, and the plate must be much more heated in
order that the particles of the powder may spread, and
form small circles ; even good clean rosin will do by
itself. ,
in
A Q U . [ 488 ]
Aquatinta In etching landscapes, the sky and distant objects
|j are also performed by a second operation, and the
Aquila. powder is sifted upon the plate with a finer sieve. If
' the trees or any part of the fore-ground require to be
higher finished, the plate must be entirely cleansed
from grease with bread, and a ground laid in the com¬
mon way of etching ; when you may finish as highly
and neatly as you please with the needle or point, by
stippling with dots, and biting up those parts, or by a
rolling-wheel.
The preceding is the method for prints of one single
tint. But if different colours are to be expressed, there
will be required as many different plates, each plate
having only the part etched upon it which is designed
to be charged with its proper colour j unless (as may
happen in particular subjects) some of the colours are
so distant from each other as to allow the printer room
to fill them in with his rubber without blending them ;
in which case, two or more different colours may be
printed from the same plate at once.—Where different
plates are necessary, a separate one, having a pin in
each corner, must be provided as a sole or bottom to
the aquatinta plates ; and these again must be exactly
fitted, having each a small hole in their corners for pas¬
sing over the pins of the sole $ the said pins serving the
double purpose of retaining the plates successively in
their due position, and of directing the printer in pla¬
cing the paper exactly on each plate so as not to shift j
by which means each tint or colour will be exactly re¬
ceived on its proper place.—-This is the method prac¬
tised at Paris. A landscape or similar subject, how¬
ever, may be printed olf at once in the different pro¬
per colours, by painting these upon the plate. In this
case, the colours must be pretty thick in their consist¬
ence ; and the plate must be carefully wiped in the
usual way after the laying on of each tint, as well as
receive a general wipe upon its being charged with all
the tints.
This art is kept as secret as possible by those who
practice it; and it is believed that no particular expla¬
nation or directions, before the present, have been
communicated to the public. In order to succeed,
however, great care and judgment are requisite ; and
much depends upon a certain nicety of management,
which is only attainable by practice.
AQUAVIVA, a town of the kingdom of Naples,
and province of Bari.
AQUEDUCT. See Aqueduct,
AQUEOUS, in a general sense, something partak¬
ing of the nature of water, or that abounds with it.
Aqueous Humour. See Anatomy, p. 276.
AQUILA, in Ornithologij, a synonyme of the ea¬
gle. See Faixo.
Aquila, the Eagle, in Astronomy, a constella¬
tion of the northern hemisphere j usually joined with
Antinous. The stars in the constellation Aqua and
Antinous, in Ptolemy’s catalogue, are 15*, in Ty¬
cho’s 19 ; in Hevelius’s 42 ; in the Britannic cata¬
logue, 71.
Aquila, a fine large city of Italy, and the capital
of Abruzzo, seated on a hill, on the banks of the ri¬
ver Pescaro, near its source. It has an ancient castle,
and is a bishop’s see immediately under the pope. The
land about it produces great plenty of saffron. It was
very near being all destroyed by an earthquake, in Fe-
3
A Q U
bruary 1703. The first shock was so terrible, that the
inhabitants abandoned the city j but returning to ves¬
pers, it being Candlemas day, the shocks followed one
another with such violence, that 24,000 people pe¬
rished, and great numbers were wounded 5 800 were
killed in one single church j many other churches, mo¬
nasteries, noble buildings, and the townhouse, were
either swallowed up or overturned, together with the
greater part of the city and its walls. Aquila stands
30 miles from the sea, and about 16 from the confines
of the pope’s dominions. E. Long. 14. 20. N. Lat4
42. 20.
AQUILEGIA, Columbine. See Botany /»-
^ AQUILEIA, a
and a noble Roman
tween the first and
Aquii;
1!
Aquilei
large city of the Carni, or Veneti,
colony, which was led thither be-
second Macedonian wars, (Livy).
It is washed by two rivers, the Natiso and Turrus,
(Pliny). The reason of leading this colony was, in
order to be a bulwark against the neighbouring bar¬
barians. The colony was afterwards increased with
1500 families by a decree of the senate, (Livy) ; from
which it became a very famous port town, (Herodian).
The emperor Julian ascribes the appellation to the au¬
gury of an eagle at the time of building it j but Isaac
Vossius on Mela, to the great plenty of water, as if
the town were called Aquilegia. The harbour, at the
mouth of the Natiso, is distant 60 stadia from the city j
so that ships of burden are towed up the river, (Stra¬
bo). In 452 it was besieged by Attila with an innu¬
merable host of barbarians. The walls were assaulted
by a formidable train of battering rams, moveable tur¬
rets, and engines that threw stones, darts, and fire j
and the monarch of the Huns employed the forcible
impulse of hope, fear, emulation, and interest, to sub¬
vert the only barrier which delayed the conquest of
Italy. Aquileia was at that period one of the richest*
the most populous, and the strongest of the maritime
cities of the Hadriatic coast. Three months were
consumed without effect in the siege j till the want of
provisions and the clamours of his army compelled
Attila to relinquish the enterprise, and reluctantly to
issue his orders that the troops should strike their
tents the next morning and begin their retreat. But
as he rode round the walls, pensive, angry, and disap¬
pointed, he observed a stork preparing to leave her
nest in one of the towers, and to fly with her in¬
fant family towards the country. He seized, with the
ready penetration of a statesman, this trifling incident
which chance had offered to superstition ; and exclaim¬
ed in a loud and cheerful tone, that such a domestic
bird, so constantly attached to human society, would
never have abandoned her ancient seats, unless those
towers had been devoted to impending ruin and soli¬
tude. The favourable omen inspired an assurance of
victory j the^ siege was renewed and prosecuted with
fresh vigour; a large breach was made in the part of
the wall from whence the stork had taken her flight ”,
the Huns mounted to the assault with irresistible fury $
and the succeeding generation could scarcely discover
the ruins of Aquileia. The place, however, is still
called Aquileia; and there are several inscriptions and
antiquities to be seen in it, which are worthy of a tra¬
veller’s notice j and, though dwindled into a poor vil¬
lage, it gives a title to the patriarch of Aquileia.
The
A Q U [ 489 ] A R A
A^uileia The patriarch is named by the Venetians, and resides
H at Udino, because the town of Aquileia belongs to the
Mjtiiiiuni. ^ jjouse 0f Austria. E. Long. 13. 20. N. Lat. 45.
40.
AQUILICIUM, or Aquiliciana, in Roman anti¬
quity, sacrifices performed in times of excessive drought,
to obtain rain of the gods.
AQUILINE, something belonging to or resembling
an eagle : Thus an aquiline nose is one bent somewhat
like an eagle’s beak.
AQUILO, is used by Vitruvius for the north-east
wind ; or that which blows at 450 from the north to¬
ward the east point of the horizon.—The poets gave
the name aquilo to all stormy winds dreaded by the ma-
riner.
AQUILUS, among the ancients, a dark or dusky
colour approaching to black. Hence some of the Hea¬
then gods were called dii aquili, q. d. nigri.
AQUIMINARIUM, in antiquity, a kind of lustral
vessels, wherein the Romans carried their holy water for
expiation and other religious offices.
AQUINAS, St Thomas, styled the Angelical
Doctor, was of the ancient and noble family of the
counts of Aquino, descended from the kings of Sicily
and Arragon j and was born in the castle of Aquino,
in the Terra di Lavora in Italy, in the year 1 224 or
1225. He entered into the order of the Dominicans $
and, after having taught school divinity in most of the
universities of Italy, at last settled at Naples j where
he spent the rest of his life in study, in reading of lec¬
tures, and in acts of piety ; and was so far from the
views of ambition or profit, that he refused the arch¬
bishopric of that city, when it was offered him by Pope
Clement IV. He died in 1274, leaving an amazing
number of writings, which were printed at Venice in
17 vols. folio, in the year 1490. He was canonized
by Pope John XXII. in the year 1323 $ and Pius V.
who was of the same order with him, gave him, in
1567, the title of the Fifth Doctor of the church, and
appointed his festival to be kept with the same solem¬
nity as those of the other four doctors. His authority
has always been great in the schools of the Roman
Catholics. Lord Herbert, in his life of Henry VIII.
tells us, that one of the principal reasons which induced
that king to write against Luther was, that the latter
had spoken contemptuously of Thomas Aquinas.
AQUINO, Philip d’, in Latin Aquinas or Aqui-
nius, having turned from Judaism, had a pension from
the clergy of France ; and acquired much reputation
by his knowledge of the Hebrew language, which he
taught at Paris, in the reign of Louis XIII. and by
the books he published, among which is his Dictio-
nariumHcbrao-Chaldceo-Thalmudico-llabbinicum. His
grandson, Anthony D’Anquin, was first physician to
Louis XIV.
Aquino, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, and Terra di Lavora j a bishop’s see, but ruined
by the emperor Conrade, and now consisting of about
35 houses. It was the birthplace of the poet Juvenal,
and of Thomas Aquinas. E. Long. 14. 30. N. Lat.
4!. 32.
AQUINUM, in Ancient Geography, a large muni¬
cipal town, and a Roman colony on the borders of the
Samnites, washed by the river Melpha (Strabo). The
inhabitants are called Aquinates. Now Aquino, but
Vol. II. Part II. t
almost in ruins, in the territory of Lavora. E. Long. Aquinum
17. 11. N. Lat. 41. 35. 11.
AQUITANIA, in Ancient Geography, one of the , Am*>la- .
three principal divisions of Gallia Comata (Csesar) ;
bounded by the Garonne, the Pyrenees, and the ocean:
this is the Aqnitania Ceesariana, or Vetus. Augustus
set the different boundaries, viz. the Loire, the Ceven-
nes, the Pyrenees, and the ocean (Strabo). It was
called Gallia Aquitanica (Pliny) and in the old No-
titiae Provincia Aquitanica. The people are called
Aquitani (Caesar). Now comprising Guienne (which
seems to be a corruption of Aquitania) and Gascony.
AR, in Ancient Geography, the metropolis of Moab,
in Arabia Petraea (Moses), and the royal residence,
situated on the east side of the river Arnon. It was
called also llabba (Joshua) : and to distinguish it from
Rabba of the Ammonites, Rabbat Moab, and on coins
Rabbath Moma (Reland). Eusebius says it was called
Areopolis in his time, from Ar and Polis. The inha¬
bitants are called Ai'eopolitce. St Jerome says that
this city was entirely destroyed by an earthquake
when he was a young man.
ARA thuribuli, the altar of incense, in Astrono*
my, a southern constellation, not visible in our hemi¬
sphere, consisting, according to Ptolemy, of seven stars ;
and according to Sharp’s Catalogue, annexed to that of
Mr Flamsted, of nine stars.
Ara, in Astronomy, a southern constellation, con¬
taining eight stars.
ARAB or Arabian Horse. See Equus.
ARABESQUE, or Arabesk, something done af-„
ter the manner of the Arabians. Arabesque, Grotesque,
and Moresque, are terms applied to such paintings, or¬
naments of friezes, &c. where there are no human or
animal figures, but which consist wholly of imaginary
foliages, plants, stalks, See. The words take their rise
from hence, that the Moors, Arabs, and other Maho¬
metans, use these kind of ornaments 5 their religion
forbidding them to make any images or figures of men
or other animals.
ARABIA, a country of Asia, famous from the re-wtieilc0
motest antiquity for the independency of its inhabitants named,
during the vast conquests of the Assyrians, Persians,
Greeks, and Romans; and, in later times, for being
the centre of an empire equal, if not superior, in extent
to any that ever existed.
This country, or at least the greater part of it, was
in the earliest ages called Arabah. Concerning the
etymology of this word there are various conjec¬
tures. It has most generally been derived from the
Hebrew word six* signifying the west, mixture, or
traffic i but, according to M. Volney, Arab, in the
ancient language of these countries, signifies a solitude
or desert. In its largest extent, Arabia lies between
the 12th and 35th degrees of N. Lat. and the 36th
and 61st of E. Long. Its greatest length from north
to south is about 1430 miles, and its breadth from east
to west is 1200. It is bounded on the west by Pale- 2
stine, part of Syria, the isthmus of Suez, and the Red Boundaries,
sea, called by the Arabs the sea Al Kobiom; on the Sec.
east by the Euphrates, the Persian gulf, and bay of
Ormus 5 on the north, by part of Syria, Diyar Beer,
Irak, and Khuzestan; and on the south by the straits
of Babelmandel and the Indian ocean. It grows nar¬
rower as we approach the frontiers of Syria and Diyar
3 Q Beer:
A R A [ 490 ] A R A
Arabia. Beer : and, by reason of the proximity of the Enphra-
u——.—1 tes to the Meditei’ranean, may be looked upon as a pe¬
ninsula, and that one of the largest in the whole world.
—Arabia Proper, however, is much narrower, includ¬
ing little more than what was comprehended by the an¬
cients under the name of Arabia Felix, which we shall
presently describe ; and here the Arabs have been set-
^ tied almost since the flood.
Division. The first division of the peninsula of Arabia was in¬
to Arabah and Kedem, as we learn from Scripture ; the
first of which implies the west, and the other the east,
denoting the situation of the two countries. Ptolemy
was the first who divided the peninsula we speak of into
three parts, Arabia Petraea, Arabia Deserta, and Ara¬
bia Felix, which division has generally prevailed since
his time.
Arabia Petrcea, on the east was bounded by Syria
and Arabia Deserta j on the west, by Egypt, or rather
the isthmus of Suez, which separates Asia from Africa,
and the Hieropolitan gulf or western arm of the Red
sea; on the north, by Palestine, the lake Asphaltites,
and Coelosyria j and on the south by Arabia Felix.
This tract did not admit of much cultivation, the great¬
est part being covered with dry sands, or rising into
rocks, interspersed here and there with some fruitful
spots. Its metropolis was Petra, which by the Syrians
xvas styled Rakam, and in Scripture JoktheeL Several
other cities of Arabia Petrsea are mentioned by Ptole¬
my 3 but as it is very improbable such a barren country
should abound with large cities, we must look upon
them as inconsiderable places.
Arabia Deserta was bounded on the north by the
Euphrates, which separated it from Mesopotamia ;
on the west, by Syria, Judaea, and Arabia Petraea 3 on
the east, by a ridge of mountains v/hich separated it
from Babylonia and Chaldea 3 on the south, by Ara¬
bia Felix, from which it was likewise separated by se¬
veral ridges of hills. By far the greatest part of this
kingdom, as well as the former, was a lonesome de¬
sert, diversified only with plains covered with sand, or
mountains consisting of naked rocks and precipices 3
nor were they ever, unless sometimes at the equinoxes,
refreshed with rain. The few vegetables which they
produced were stunted by a perpetual drought, and the
nourishment afforded them by the nocturnal dews was
greatly impaired by the heat of the sun in the day¬
time. Throughout the deserts were found huge moun¬
tains of sand, formed by the violence of the winds that
continually blew over them in the day-time, though
they ceased in the night. Wells and fountains were
for the most part exceedingly rare 3 however, notwith¬
standing the sterility of these countries, the vast plains
of sand just now mentioned were interspersed with fruit¬
ful spots, which appeared here and there like so many
islands in the midst of the ocean. These being ren¬
dered extremely delightful by their verdure, and the
more so by the neighbourhood of those frightful de¬
serts, the Arabs encamped upon them; and having
consumed every thing they found upon one, removed
to another, as is the custom of their descendants the
Bedoweens at this day. These fruitful spots were like¬
wise frequent in Libya, and by the Egyptians called
aliases, or abases, as we learn from Strabo. The bar¬
ren part of Arabia Felix, bordering upon the Red sea,
was in like manner interspersed with abases 3 which Arabia,
probably gave the name of Abaseni to a nation settled —y*.
there, and in the adjacent fertile region. A body of
these, it is said, crossing the straits of Babelmandel,
passed into Ethiopia, which from them received the
name of Abassia. From this account of Arabia De¬
serta, we may reasonably conclude, that the towns said
by Ptolemy to have been situated in it were places of
very little consequence.
Arabia Felix was bounded on the north by the two
kingdoms just described 3 on the south, by the Red
sea 3 on the east and west, by part of that sea, toge¬
ther with the Arabian and Persian gulfs. In Strabo’s
time, it was divided into five provinces, by the orien¬
tal historians called Yaman, Hejaz, Tehamah, JSfajd,
and Yamama. In this district stood several towns,
particularly Nysa, famous for being the birthplace of
Bacchus 3 and Musa, or Muza, a celebrated empo¬
rium or harbour, where the Arabian merchants resort¬
ed with their frankincense, spices, and perfumes.
These two were situated in the province of Yaman.
In that of Hejaz stood the still more famous cities of
Mecca and Medina 3 also Thaisa or Taisa, Gjudda or
Joddo, Yanbo or A1 Yanbo, and Madian, the Modiana
of Ptolemy, and the Midian or Madian of Scripture.
At what time the above-mentioned kingdoms were when p<
first peopled we have no certain accounts. The most pled,
considerable nations inhabiting Arabia Petraea, in the
early ages, were the Ishmaelites, the Nabataei or Na-
batheans, the Cedraei or Kedareni, and the Agareni or
Hagareni 3 and of these the Ishmaelites were the most
powerful, if they did not comprehend all the rest; and
if the Hagareni were not the same people with them,
they must at least have been nearly related. Kimchi,
an oriental historian, insinuates, that they were origi¬
nally the children of Hagar by an Arab, after she had
left Abraham. In after ages, the names of all the na¬
tions situated here were absorbed in that of Saracens,
by which the Ishmaelites are distinguished in the Jeru¬
salem Targum. A nation is also mentioned by Pliny,
called Arraceni, and Saraceni by Ptolemy and Diosco-
rides, which was probably no other than the Ishmael¬
ites above mentioned. In Arabia Deserta several tribes
resided, all of whom were very obscure, except the
Aisitse and Araei. The former are supposed by Bo-
chart to have been Job’s countrymen, and the latter
to have been the same with the Hagareni, Arraceni,
or Saraceni, above mentioned. Arabia Felix was in¬
habited by many different tribes 3 the most remarkable
of which were the Saboei, Gerraei, Minaei or Minnaei,
Atramitae, Marinatae, Catabani, Ascitae, Homeritae,
Sapphoritae, Omanitae, Saraceni, Nabathaei, Thamy-
deni, and Bnizomenae 3 but neither their limits nor si¬
tuation can now be determined with any manner of
precision. 5
According to the oriental historians, the Arabs are Division
to be divided into two classes 3 viz. the old lost Ara- the Aral
bians, and \A\e, present* The most famous tribes among
the former were those of Ad, Thamud, Tasm, Jades,
Jorham, Amalek, Amtem, Hasbem, Abil, and Baiv
Concerning these, though now entirely lost and swal¬
lowed up among other tribes, there are some remark¬
able traditions, of which the following may serve as a
specimen.
The
Arabia.
6
radition
ncerning
e tribe of
l.
7
rabs from
■hom de¬
luded.
A R A [ 491 ]
The tribe of Ad deduced their origin from Ad the son of that kingdom
of Aws, or Uz, the son of Aram, the son of Shem, who,
after the confusion of tongues, settled in A1 Abkaf, or
the winding sands in the province of Hadramant, on
the confines of Yaman, where his posterity greatly
multiplied. Their first king was Sheddad, the son of
Ad, who built a stately palace, and made a delightful
garden in the deserts of Aden, which he designed as
an imitation of the celestial paradise. This garden he
called Irem: and when it was finished, he set out with
a great retinue to take a view of it $ but, having some
thoughts of assuming divine honours, he was destroyed
by a tempest from heaven, while yet a day’s journey
from his paradise. The garden and palace, however,
were preserved, though invisible, as a monument of di-.
vine vegeance.
After the death of Sheddad, the kingdom of Ad
was governed by a long series of princes, concei'ning
whom many fables are related by the eastern writers.
The conclusion of their history, however, is as follows.
“The Adites, in process of time, falling from, the
worship of the true God into idolatry, God sent the
prophet Hud, supposed to be the same with Heber, to
preach to and reclaim them. But they refusing to ac¬
knowledge his mission, or to obey him, God sent a hot
and suffocating wind, which blew seven nights and eight
days, and entering at their nostrils passed through their
bodies, and destroyed them all, a very few only except¬
ed, who had listened to Hud, and retired with him to
another place.” Others relate, “ that before this ter¬
rible catastrophe, they had been previously chastised
with a three years drought; and therefore sent Kail
Ebn Ithar, and Morthen Ebn Sdaa, with 70 other
principal men, to Mecca, then in the hands of the tribe
of Amalek, whose prince was Moahwiyah Ebn Beer, to
obtain of God some rain. Kail having begged of God
that he would send rain to the people of Ad, three
clouds appeared, a white, a red, and a black one 5 and
a voice from heaven ordered him to choose which he
would. Kail failed not to make choice of the last,
thinking it would be laden with most rain } but when
this cloud came over them, it proved to be fraught with
the divine vengeance, and a tempest broke forth from
it which destroyed them all.
The present Ai'abs, according to their own historians,
are sprung from Kahtan, the same with Joktan, the son
of Eber, and Adnan, descended in a direct line from
Ishmael the son of Abraham. The former of these they
called genuine or pure Arabs, and the latter the natura¬
lized or insititious Arabs.
Joktan the son of Eber had 13 sons, who some time
after the confusion of languages settled in Arabia, ex¬
tending themselves from Mesha to Sephar, a mountain¬
ous place in the south-eastern part of that peninsula.
According to the Arabian historians, he had 31 sons,
all of whom left Arabia and went into India, except
two, viz. Yarab and Jorham ; the former of whom, they
say, gave the name both to their country and language.
Ishmael and his mother Hagar having been dismissed
by Abraham, entered into the wilderness of Paran, as
related in the book of Genesis. The sacred historian
informs us, that during his residence in the wilderness
he married an Egyptian j and the Arabian writers say
that he also took to wife the daughter of Modab king
of Hejaz, lineally descended from Jorham the founder
AHA
By the Egyptian he was probably Arabia,
the father of the Scenite or wild Arabs $ and having
allied himself to the Jorhamites, he is considered by
the Arabians as the father of the greatest part of their
nation. s
Kahtan, or Joktan, is said to have first reigned, and Joktan the
worn a diadem, in Yaman 5 but the particulars of hisfirst
reign we nowhere learn. He was succeeded by Yarab
already mentioned, he by Yashab, and Yashab by Abd
Shems. He was successful in his expeditions against
his enemies, carried off great spoils, and took many ;
of them prisoners. He is said to have built the city Reservoir
of Saba or Mareb, and above it a stupendous mound ot Saba,
or building, which formed a vast reservoir, containing
all the water that came down from the mountains. By
means of this reservoir the kings of Yaman not only
supplied the inhabitants of Saba and their lands with
water, but likewise kept the territories they had sub¬
dued in greater awe, as by cutting off their communi¬
cation with it they could at any time greatly distress
them.
Abd Shems was succeeded by his son Hamyar, from
whom the tribe of Hamyar is said to take its name j
and he by a series of 17 kings, concerning whom we
have no remarkable particulars, except that from one of
them, called Africus, the continent of Africa took its IO
name. The last of these was succeeded by a daughter Balkis sup-
named Balkis or Belkis, whom some will have to be poseri to 1>C
the queen of Sheba who paid a visit to Solomon. Af-
ter Balkis came Malca, surnamed Nasherolneam on ac¬
count of his magnificence and liberality. Having had
bad success in an expedition, where his army was over¬
whelmed by torrents of sand, he caused a brazen statue
to be erected, with the following inscription in the old
Hamyaritic character: “ There is no passage behind
me, no moving farther; the son of Sharhabil.” He was
succeeded by Shamar Yaraash, so called on account of 11
his being affected with a constant tremour. To this®amajrcan<*
prince the city of Samarcand is said to owe its existence, 10m
After Shamar Yaraash we have a list of 15 kings, of
whom nothing worth mentioning is recorded, except
of one Abu Garb Asaad, who adorned the Caaba or
temple of Mecca with tapestry, and first introduced
Judaism among the Hamyarites. He was put to death
by his subjects, probably on account of religion. The
last of the 15 kings above mentioned was called Abra-
hah, who was succeeded by his son Sabban. He had
that famous sv/ord called Samsannah, which afterwards
came into the hands of the caliph A1 Rashid. This
prince was succeeded by Dim Shanater, who had six
fingers on each hand. He was abandoned to unnatu¬
ral lust, and dethroned for abusing some of the noblest I2
youths in the kingdom. To him succeeded Yusef, who Yusef a
jived about 70 years before Mahomet. He persecutedPer*
all those who would not turn Jews, putting them tosecut01,
death by various tortures, the most common of which
was throwing them into a glowing pit of fire ; whence
he had the appellation of the lord of the pit. This per¬
secution is taken notice of in the Koran. The last of
the Hamyaritic monarchs was Dhu Jadan, according
to Abulfeda j but, according to others, the Yusef just
mentioned, who rvas surnamed JDhu JSkotvas on account
of his flowing curls, and was the last who reigned in
an uninterrupted succession. He was a bigotted Jew,
as already mentioned: and treated his subjects with
3 Q 2 such
A R A
[ 492 ]
A R A
Arabia.
13
His sub¬
jects call
in the king
of Ethiopia,
who de¬
thrones
Yusef.
.14
Christian
religion
established
in Arabia.
IS
Ethiopians
driven out.
16
Terrible
inundation
by the
breaking
down of
the reser¬
voir of
Saba.
. ^
Origin, &c.
of the king¬
dom of Hi-
18
OfGhassan
such barbarity, that they were obliged to ask the assist¬
ance of Eiesbaas, or Elasbaan, king of Ethiopia, against
him. Dhu Nowas, not being able to make head against
the Ethiopians, was at last driven to such extremity,
that he forced his horse into the sea, and lost both his
life and crown together.
The king of Ethiopia, having thus become master of
Yaman, established there the Christian religion, and fix¬
ed upon the throne one Abryat an Ethiopian. He wras
succeeded by Abraha Ebn-Al Sabah, surnamed the AZ/f-
nosed, from a wound iie had formerly received in it.
He was likewise styled lord of the elephant, from a story
too ridiculous to deserve notice. He was succeeded by
two other Ethiopian princes j but at last Sief Ebn Dhu
Yazan, of the old royal family of Hamyar, having ob¬
tained assistance from the king of Persia, which had been
denied him by the emperor Heraclius, recovered his
throne, and drove out the Ethiopians \ but was himself
slain by some of them who were left behind. The suc¬
ceeding princes were appointed by the Persians, till
Yaman fell into the hands of Mahomet.
We have already taken notice of the vast mound or
reservoir made by Abd Shems, from which he supplied
the city of Saba with water. This building stood like
a mountain above the city, and was by the Sabgeans
esteemed so strong, that they were under no fear of its
ever failing. The water rose almost to the height of
20 fathoms j and was kept in on every side by a work
so solid, that many of the inhabitants had their houses
upon it. About the time of Alexander the Great,
however, a terrible inundation happened. According
to the Arabian historians, God being displeased at the
pride and insolence of the inhabitants of this city, re¬
solved to humble them : and for this purpose sent a
mighty flood, which broke down the mound by night
whilst the inhabitants were asleep, and carried away the
whole city with the neighbouring towns and people.
This inundation is styled in the Koran the inundation
of AlHaram ; and occasioned sq terrible a destruction,
that from thence it became a proverbial saying to
express a total dispersion, “ that they were gone and
scattered like Saba.”—Dy this accident no less than
eight tribes were forced to remove their habitations }
some of which gave rise to the kingdoms of Hira and
Ghassan.
The kingdom of Hira was founded by Malec, a de¬
scendant of Cahlan the brother of Hamyar ; but after
three descents, the throne came by marriage to the
Eakhmians, who were descendants of Lakhm the son of
Amru, the son of Abd Ems. These princes, whose ge¬
neral name was preserved their dominion, not¬
withstanding some small interruption from the Persians,
till the caliphate of Abu Beer, when Al Mondar Ma-
ghrur, the last of them, lost his life and crown by the
arms of Khaled-Ebn-Al-Walid. This kingdom conti¬
nued 622 years and eight months, according to Ahmed
Ebn Yusef. Its princes were under the protection of
the kings of Persia, and were their lieutenants over the
Arabs of Irak, as the kings of Ghassan were for the Ro¬
man emperors over those of Syria.
The kingdom of Ghassan was. founded by the tribe
of Azd, who according to some, settling in Syria Da-
mascena, near a water called Ghassan, from thence took
their name j hut others say they went under this ap¬
pellation before they left Yaraan. Having driven out
Z
Arabia,
19
the Dajaamian Arabs, who before possessed the country,
they made themselves masters of a considerable terri-'
tory. Here they maintained themselves, according to
some 400, according to others 600, and according to
Abulfeda 613 years, when the last of their kings sub¬
mitted to the caliph Omar, and embraced the Maho¬
metan religion j hut receiving afterwards a disgust, soon
returned to Christianity, and took refuge in Constanti¬
nople.
The kingdom of Hejaz was founded by Jorham theOfHejaz.
son ofKahtan, where princes of his line reigned till
the time of Ishmael, who married the daughter of Mo-
dad one of those princes. Some authors relate that
Kidar, one of Ishmael’s sons, had the crown resigned
to him by his uncles the Jorhamites: but, according to
others, the descendants of Ishmael expelled that tribe j
who, retiring to Johainah, were after various adventures
destroyed by an inundation. After the expulsion of
the Jorhamites, the government of Hejaz seems not to
have continued long in the hands of one prince, but to
have been divided among the heads of tribes, almost
in the same manner as the Arabs of the desert are go¬
verned at this day. The tribe of Khozaab, after the
above mentioned inundation of Saba, fled into the king¬
dom of Hejaz, and settled themselves in a valley call- 2£)
ed Marri near Mecca. Here they founded an aris- Tribe of
tocracy, assuming to themselves both the government Khozaab
of the city of Mecca, and the custody of the Caaba 0rassumesl
temple there. They continued masters of this city and^^j
territory, as well as presidents of the Caaba, for many Mecca,
ages, till at length one Kosa, of the tribe of Koreish,
circumvented Abu Gahshan, a rveak and silly man, of
whom, while in a drunken humour, he bought the keys 2r
of the temple for a bottle of wine ; but when Abu Gab-Folly of
shan grew cool, and reflected on his imprudence, he suf-^b^al
ficiently repented of what he had done 5 whence the4 ia
Arabian proverbs, “ More vexed with late repentance
than Abu Gabshan; More foolish than Abu Gahshan,”
&c. The tribe of Khozaab endeavoured afterwards to
give some disturbance to the Koreish in the possession of
the keys of the Caaba, which furnished the latter with
a pretence for depriving them of the civil government
of Mecca. After the Koreish had possessed themselves
of this city, they kept up the same form of government
which had prevailed there before. Besides these king¬
doms, there were many others of lesser note, of which
we find nothing remarkable.
Thus we have briefly mentioned the most memorable
events recorded by the Arabian historians previous to
the time of Mahomet; but, before entering upon an
account of that famous impostor and the kingdom found-'
ed by him, it will be proper to take notice of several
circumstances in different parts of the world, which at
that time concurred to facilitate his scheme, and with¬
out which, in all probability, he would never have been
able to accomplish it. 22
The first and great cause of Mahomet’s success incauges
his imposture, was the gross corruption and supersti-. Maliom
tion with which the Christian religion was at that timesucc€SS'
obscured in all parts of the world. Had the pure
doctrines of Christianity been then as publicly known
as the ridiculous fopperies which deformed the Eastern
and Western churches, Mahometanism could never
have got a hearing. But along with the true reli¬
gion, mankind seemed also to have lost the use of their
rational
A R A [ 493 ] A R A
Arabia, rational faculties, so that they were capable of swal-
'J' ^ j lowing the grossest absurdities ; such as it now appears
almost incredible that any of the human race could
receive as truths. Another cause was, the manner of
government and way of life among the Arabs. Di¬
vided into small independent tribes, they never were
capable of a firm union but by superstition ; and had
Mahomet attempted their conquest in any other way,
it was impossible he could have succeeded. As there
were also among them Jews, Pagans, and Christians of
all sorts, this impostor, by adopting something out of
every religion then extant, cunningly recommended
himself to the professors of every one of them. Add
to all this, that by allowing of polygamy, and setting
forth his paradise as consisting in the enjoyment of wo¬
men, he adapted himself to the corrupt dispositions of
mankind in general.
If the distracted state of religion favoured the de¬
signs of Mahomet on the one hand, the weakness of
the Grecian and Persian monarchies assisted him no less
powerfully on the other. Had those once formidable
empires been in their vigour, either of them would have
been sufficient to crush Mahometanism in its birth 5 but
both of them were then strangely reduced. The Ro¬
man empire had continued to decline after the time ol
Constantine $ the western parts of it were then entirely
overrun by the Goths and other barbarous nations j
and the eastern, or Greek empire, was so much redu¬
ced by the Huns on the one hand, and the Persians on
the other, as to be incapable of making any great effort.
The Persian monarchy itself was in little better con¬
dition. It is true, they ravaged the dominions of the
Greeks, and often overcame them in the field ; but
that was owing more to the weakness of the Grecian
empire, than to the strength of the Persians, and so
effectually did the intestine broils, which arose chiefly
on account of religion, weaken the kingdom ol Persia,
that the most considerable part of it was annexed by
the caliph Omar to his dominions.
As the Greeks and Persians were then in a languish¬
ing situation, so the Arabs were strong and flourishing.
Their country had been peopled at the expence of the
Grecian empire ; tvhence the violent proceedings of the
different religious sectaries forced many to take refuge
in Arabia. The Arabs were not only a populous na¬
tion, but unacquainted with the luxuries and delicacies
of the Greeks and Persians. They were inured to hard¬
ships of all kinds, and consequently much better fitted
than their effeminate neighbours to endure the fatigues
of war, as the event very fully verified.
Mahomet’s Mahomet was born in the year of Christ 569. Ac-
tii'th, de- cording to the eastern historians, he was descended in
scent, See. a dJ-rect line from Isbmael. Keder, or, as the Arabians
call him Ktdar, after his father Ishmael’s death, com¬
municated his name to the greatest part of Arabia 1 e-
traea. He was succeeded in his authority and posses¬
sions by his son Hama) 5 Hamal by Nabat, and Nabat
by Salaman. After Salaman came A1 Homeisa, then
A1 Yasa, whose son Odad was succeeded by Odd the
father of Adnan. Counting ten generations forward in
the same line, we come at last to lehr, who seems to
Fetahead ^,ave distinguished himself by seme glorious actions, as
ot the Ko- fie was denominated Korewh, on account of his bravery,
reisli. He is to be considered as the root of the politest and
most celebrated tribe of the Arabs. He had three sons,
Caleb, Mohareb, and Al Hareth. From Mohareb the Arabia,
Banu Mohareb, denominated likewise Sheiban, tookv—'
their origin ; from Al Hareth, the Banu Al Kholoj :
and from Caleb in a direct line, the impostor Mahomet.
Caleb was the father of Lowa ; and he of Caab, whose
son Morrah had for his immediate descendant Kelab
the father of Kosa. It was this Kosa who aggrandized
the tribe of the Koreish, by purchasing the keys of the
Caaba from Abu Gabshan, as we have already related.
By this he not only aggrandized his tribe, but became
the prince of it himself. He was succeeded by his se¬
cond son Abd Menaf, to whom the prophetic light,
which is said to have manifested itself in his face, gave 25
the right of primogeniture. Abd Menaf was succeed Hashem’s
ed by his son Amni, surnamed Hashein, or “ one thatg611610®11^
broke bread,” on account of his singular generosity
during a famine at Mecca. Having amassed great sums
of money, he took a journey into Syria, where he pur¬
chased a vast quantity of meal, which he made into
cakes, and divided with his own hands amongst the peo¬
ple of Mecca. He likewise killed a prodigious number
of camels, with which he fed them, and relieved them
in the time of their distress 5 and'finding that the soil
about Mecca was so barren as to produce no fruits •
but what are common in the deserts, and consequently
no corn or grain, which the Meccans are obliged to
bring from other places, he appointed two caravans to
set cut yearly for that purpose, the one in summer, and
the other in winter •, by means of which the city was
amply supplied with provisions of all kinds. rIhe pro¬
visions brought by them, were distributed twice a-year ,
and Hashem, by his prudent conduct, raised the glory
of his people to the highest pitch ; insomuch, that all
the neighbouring great men and beads of tribes made
their court to him. Nay, so great veneration is the
memory of Hashem held in by the Arabs, that from
him the family of Mahomet among them are called
Hashemites ; and he who presides over Mecca and Me¬
dina, who must always be of the race of Mahomet, has
to this day the title of the “ Chief or Prince ot the
Hashe mites.”
Hashem died at Gaza in Syria, and was succeeded
by his son Abdal Motalleb or Mateleb. He is said to
have been extremely affable and easy of access, as wed
as just and generous to a great degree } so that, in the
beginning of the month Rcimodcin, he entertained the
poor upon the flat roof of his house, and afterwaids
supplied the fowls of the air and wild beasts ot the
field with provisions of various kinds, which he ordereis.
his servants to leave upon the summits of the neighbour- ^
ing mountains. The well which God showed to HagarWejj Zem.
in the wilderness is said to have been miraculously dis-2ein disco-
covered to Abdal Motalleb, about 500 years after iUered by
had been filled up by Amru, prince of tbs Jorhamitefc Abdal Mo-
This well is by the Arabs called Zem%em ; which some
derive from her calling to Ishmael, when sue spied it,
in the Egyptian tongue, Zem, Zem, i. e. Stay, Stay .
though others ascribe it to a diflerent origin. I he
water of this well, which is on the east sme oi the
Caaba, and covered with a.small building and cupola,
is highly reverenced $ being not only drank with paiti-
cular devotion by the pilgrims, but also sent in bottles
as a great rarity to most parts of the Mandmetan do¬
minions.
Abdalla the father of Mahomet, was- a younger son
ot
*7
Mahomet
at first a
merchant.
2S
Begins to
broach his
doctrine.
AHA
Arabia, of Abdal Motalleb, and remarkable for
‘—v—^ In his 24th or 25th year, he married Amina, the
daughter of Waheb, the son of Abdal Menaf. She is
represented as the most beautiful, prudent, and virtuous
lady of her tribe 5 and consequently the most worthy
of such an extraordinary person as Abdalla. He died
young, and, in his father’s lifetime, left his widow and
infant son in very mean circumstances j his whole sub¬
stance consisting only of five camels and one female
Ethiopian slave. Abdal Motalleb was, therefore, obli¬
ged to take care of his grandson Mahomet j which he
not only did during his life, but at his death en¬
joined his eldest son Abu Taleb to provide for him for
the future. Abu Taleb was extremely kind to his
nephew, and instructed him in the business of merchan¬
dise : for which purpose he took him into Syria when
he was but 13 years of age, recommending him to
Khadijah, a noble and rich widow, for her factor 5 in
whose service he behaved so well, that she married him,
and thus raised him to an equality with the richest in
Mecca.
Though Mahomet had probably formed a design of
introducing his new religion pretty early, he did not
think proper to avow it till the 40th year of his age.
The grand article of his faith was, the unity of the di¬
vine nature, which he pretended was violated by the
Jews and Christians no less than by the Pagans j for
which reason, he resolved to make an attempt to rescue
the world from the ignorance and superstition which
prevailed at that time. This reformation he intended
should begin in his own family; and therefore, having
retired with his household to a cave in Mount Hara,
near Mecca, he there opened the secret of his mission
to Khadijah ; acquainting her that the angel Gabriel
had just appeared to him, and told him that he was
appointed the Apostle of God. He also repeated to
her a passage which he said had been revealed to him
by the ministry of the angel, with an account of many
prodigies which happened at his birth. (See Maho¬
met). This pretended revelation was received by
his wifelnd Khadijah with the greatest joy j and in a kind of ecsta-
cousin, &c. sy she immediately communicated the good news to
her cousin Waraka Ebn Nawfal, who, being a Christi¬
an, could write in the Hebrew character, and was pret¬
ty well versed in the Scriptures both of the Old and
New Testament. He very readily came into her opi¬
nion, swore by God that what she said was true, and that
“ Mahomet was the great prophet foretold in the law
by Moses the son of Amram.”
Mahomet finding his first step successful, as Wa¬
raka was a very considerable person, began to entertain
great hopes of accomplishing his design. He next
converted his servant Zeid, to whom he gave his liber¬
ty on the occasion, which afterwards became a rule to
his followers ; and then Ali the son of Abu Taleb,
though at that time only nine or ten years of age. This
last, however, making no account of the other two, he
used to call the first of believers. The next person he
applied to was Abu Beer, a man of very considerable
authority among the Koreish. He was easily gained
over, and by his influence several others ; so that Ma¬
homet now made his mission no longer a secret. To
Abu Beer he gave the name of Al Saddik, or the faith¬
ful ivitness; because he not only vouched for every thing
he said, but also greatly increased the number of his
[ 494 ]
his beauty, followers.
Arabia.
29
Converts
30
A R A
Mahomet likewise complimented him with
the title of Atik, or preserved ; intimating thereby that v
he was certainly saved from hell fire.
Having given out that he was commanded from hea¬
ven to admonish his near relations, Mahomet directed
Ali to prepare an entertainment, and invite to it the
sons and descendants of Abdal Motalleb. He intended
to open his mind to them : but Abu Laheb, one of
Mahomet’s uncles, making the company break up be¬
fore the prophet had an opportunity of speaking to
them, he was obliged to invite them again the next
day. Plaving now proposed the matter, he asked which
of them would become his wazir, prime minister, or
vicegerent. This was accepted by Ali j upon which
Mahomet said to him, “ This is my brother, my de¬
puty, and my (caliph) successor, or vicar; therefore
show yourselves submissive and obedient to him.” At Rejected
this speech all the company fell a-laughing, telling Abu by the
Taleb that he must now pay obedience and submissionKoreisllj
to his own son. Notwithstanding this repulse, how¬
ever, Mahomet was so far from being discouraged, that
he began to preach to the people in public. They
heard him with some patience till he began to upbraid
them with the idolatry, obstinacy, and perverseness of
themselves and their fathers j which so highly provoked
them, that they openly declared themselves his enemies,
except some few who were converted. The prophet was
now protected by the authority of his uncle Abu Ta¬
leb 5 who, however, was earnestly solicited to persuade
his nephew to desist, and at last threatened with an '
open rupture in case he could not prevail on him so to
do. This had such an effect upon Abu Taleb, that he
advised his nephew not to push the matter any farther 5
representing the great danger he and his followers
would otherwise run : but our prophet was not to be
so intimidated; and told his uncle plainly, that “ ifHIs
they set against him the sun on his right hand, and theiution. "
moon on his left, he would not abandon his enter¬
prise.” Abu Taleb, therefore, finding him so firmly
resolved, used no further arguments, but promised to
stand by him to the utmost of his power: so that not¬
withstanding the people of his tribe came to a determi¬
nation to expel both Mahomet and his followers, he
found a powerful support in his uncle against all their
machinations.
Mahomet now entered upon his apostolic function
with uncommon diligence and application $ and soon
gained over his uncle Hamza, and Omar Ebn Al
Khattah, a person very much esteemed, and who be¬
fore had been his violent opposer. Notwithstanding
this success, however, the Koreish continued their op¬
position, and came to a resolution ,to proscribe all who
had embraced Mahomet’s doctrine. In consequence of
this resolution, the Moslems, as his followers were call-
ed, were now treated with such severity, that they His follow
found it no longer safe to continue in Mecca : nay, se-ers perseci
veral of them in the fifth year of his mission foundte£^
themselves obliged to fly into Ethiopia, where they
were kindly received by the Najashi or king of that
country, who refused to deliver them up to those whom
the Koreish sent to demand them. At this refusal they
were so exasperated, that they came to a resolution to
suppress effectually the new religion, which had now
made a considerable progress. In order to this, they
entered into a solemn league or covenant against the
Hashemites,
AHA [ 495 ] A R A
Arabia. Hashemites, and the family of Abdal Motalleb in par-
—v*—^ ticular, engaging themselves to contract no marriages
3.3 with them, nor to have any manner of communication
i6 Ko- j-jiern otherwise j and, to give this the greater
o a weight, they reduced it into writing, and laid it up in
igue a- the Caaba. Upon this the tribe became divided into
inst him. two factions ; and all the family of Hashem, both Mos¬
lems and unbelievers, repaired to Abu Taleb as their
head ; except only Abdal Uzza j surnamed Abu La-
heb, the son of Abdal Motalleb, who, out of hatred
to his nephew and his doctrine, went over to the op¬
posite party. After this the' authority of Abu Taleb
was scarce sufficient to protect Mahomet from the fury
of the Koreish j who, according to A1 Jannabi, made
frequent attempts upon him •, sometimes endeavouring
to destroy him by force, at other times by secret wiles
and machinations : nay, to compass their end, he tells
us that they had recourse to magic, enchantments, and
diabolical illusions. In short, they gave him at last so
much trouble, that he was obliged to change his habi¬
tation, and seek a new asylum for himself and his com¬
panions. This he found in the house of one Orkam,
which was advantageously situated on a hill called Safa.
Here he converted Orkam’s family, and the house was
34 afterwards held in high estimation by the Moslems,
heir writ- The two factions into which the tribe of Koreish
g destroy-was divided subsisted for five years, when they were
* by a pUt an end to by a very strange accident. Mahomet
)im' told his uncle Abu Taleb, that God had manifestly
showed his disapprobation of the covenant entered into
against them, by sending a worm to eat out every word
of the instrument except the name of God. With
this particular Abu Taleb, immediately acquainted the
Koreish •, offering, in case it proved false, to deliver up
his nephew to them j but if it should prove true, he
insisted that they ought to lay aside their animosity,
and annul the league they had made against the Ha¬
shemites. To this they acquiesced •, and going to in¬
spect the writings, found it to be as Abu Taleb had told
them j the words “ In thy name, O God,” being the
only ones which remained. On so remarkable a proof
of the divine displeasure, the league was immediately
annulled, and all the acts of hostility between the two
35 parties ceased.
lahomet After this memorable event Mahomet remained with
ute!TbSe" unc^e Taleb> who survived the reconciliation
le Ko/ only about eight months. The same year also died
;i$h. Khadijah, Mahomet’s wife. Her death, as well as that
of his uncle, proved a great detriment to his affairs ;
for the Koreish, notwithstanding the former reconcilia¬
tion, began now to persecute him with more violence
than ever. He was therefore obliged to fly for shelter
to Al Tayef; which he chose on account of its being
the residence of his uncle Al Abbas, whose protection
he imagined he would be able to secure. In this, how¬
ever, he found himself mistaken : and though he staid
a month in the city, during which time he gained over
a few, yet at last the lower sort of people rose against
him, and obliged him to return to Mecca. This refu¬
sal, though it greatly discouraged the new converts,
did not in the least abate the zeal of Mahomet j on the
contrary, he continued to preach boldly to the public
assemblies at the pilgrimage to Mecca, exclaiming
against idolatry, and particularly against the worship
of two idols Allat and Al Uzzua, to which the tribes,
3
especially the women of that of Thakif, were very Arabia
much addicted. By this the prophet was often expos- —y—-
ed to great danger : however, he gained some converts,
and amongst them six of the inhabitants of Yathreb,
of the Jewish tribe of Khazraj ; who, on their return
home, failed not to speak much in commendation of
their new religion, and exhorted their fello^v citizens ^
immediately to embrace it. These converts of the tribe Ansars,
of Khazraj, are by the Arab writers called Al Ansa/', w&o.
Al Ansarii, or Ansars; that is, assistants, favourers,
supporters, &c. because they assisted and supported the
prophet when he was pursued to the very brink of de¬
struction. They first met Mahomet on a little hill
called Al Akabah, where a temple stood, and where they
first took an oath to exert themselves in support of their
new apostle and his religion. An uninterrupted friend¬
ship and harmony reigned for a long time amongst the
members of the Jewish tribes of Khazraj, Koreidha,
and Nadir, whose great progenitor, says the Arabs, was
Aaron the son of Amram. Mahomet therefore insinu¬
ating himself into the good graces of the Ansars, they
readily embraced his religion, and proved of very consi¬
derable service. 37
The next remarkable thing recorded of Mahomet is Mahomet’s
the invention of his night journey to heaven. This jJoum^ t0
probably intended to supply the place of miracles. eavcn>
The absurdities contained in that relation, however,
are so great, that when he related it to his uncle Al
Abbas, and Omni Hana, the daughter of Abu Taleb,
they endeavoured to dissuade him from making it pub¬
lic. This advice he was so far from following, that
he related the whole to Abu Jahl, one of his most in¬
veterate enemies, who ridiculed him for it, and placed
the story in such a ridiculous light to the Koreish, that
they were on the point of insulting him 5 several of his
followers also left him 5 and the whole design had pro-almost
bably been ruined, had not Abu Beer vouched for his proves the
veracity, and declared, that, if Mahomet affirmed it toniin ot
be true, he firmly believed the whole. This declara¬
tion not only retrieved the prophet’s credit, but in¬
creased it to such a degree, that he was sure of making
his disciples swallow whatever he pleased j and on this
occasion it is said by some that he gave Abu Beer the
name of the faithful witness, as we have already re¬
lated.
In the twelfth year of Mahomet’s mission, twelve
men of Yathreb, or Medina, of whom ten were of the
tribe of Kharaj, and two of that of Aws, came to Mec¬
ca, and took an oath of fidelity to the prophet at the
hill Al Akahah. When they had solemnly engaged
to do all required of them, Mahomet sent one of his
disciples, named Masab Ebn Omair, home with them,
to instruct them more fully in the grounds of their new
religion. Masab being arrived at Medina, with the
assistance of the new proselytes, gained several others ;
and acquainting Mahomet with the success of his mis¬
sion, desired leave to form a congregation of Moslems ^
at Medina. This the prophet readily granted j in Congrega-
consequence of which, the new Moslems regularly as-
sembled, to the number of forty persons, in the house
of Saad Ebn Khaithama. The next year Masab re- ;\]e(jina.
turned to Mecca, accompanied by 73 men ant‘ ^w0 wo*
men of Medina, who had professed Mahometanism, be¬
sides several others who were yet unbelievers. On
their arrival they sent immediately to Mahomet, and
offered
A R A
[ 4S>6 ]
A R A
Arabia, offered him their assistance, of which he now stood in
\ the greatest need j for his adversaries were by this time
grown so powerful in Mecca, that he could not stay
there much longer without imminent danger. He
therefore accepted their proposal, and met them one
night by appointment at the hill A1 Akabah. At
this interview he was attended by his uncle A1 Ab¬
bas $ who, though then an unbeliever, wished his ne¬
phew well, and made a speech to the people of Medi¬
na } wherein he told them, that as Mahomet was obli-
» ged to quit his native city and seek an asylum else¬
where, and as they had offered him their protection,
they would do well not to deceive him } and if they
were not firmly resolved to defend, and not to betray
him, they had better declare their minds, and let him
seek for protection somewhere else. Upon their pro¬
testing their sincerity, Mahomet swore to be faithful
to them, a part of the Koran being read to all present,
on condition they should protect him from all insults,
as heartily as they would do their own wives and fa¬
milies. They then asked him what recompense they
were to expect if they should happen to be killed in
his quarrel: he answered, Paradise j upon which they
pledged their faith to him, after Mahomet had chosen
twelve out of their number, who were to have the same
authority under him that the twelve apostles had under
Christ.
Finding now a confederacy formed in his favour,
our prophet began to pull off the mask as to his true
sentiments concerning the means of reformation. Hi¬
therto he had propagated his religion by fair means on¬
ly ; and in several passages of the Koran, which he pre¬
tended were revealed|before this time, he declared, that
his business was only to preach and admonish j that he
had no authority to compel any person ; and that whe¬
ther they believed or not, was none of his concern, but
belonged solely to God. But no sooner did he find
himself enabled, by the alliance above mentioned, to re¬
sist his enemies, than he gave out that God had allowed
him and his followers to defend themselves ; and at
length, as his forces increased, he pretended not only
to have leave to act on the defensive, but to attack the
infidels, destroy idolatry, and set up the true religion
by the power of the sword. To this he was excited by
an apprehension that pacific measures would greatly re¬
tard, if not entirely overthrow, his designs j and there¬
fore he determined to use the most violent methods to
convert the Pagan Arabs, or rather to extend his owu
authority.
The Koreish, in the mean time, finding that Maho¬
met had considerably extended his influence, and hear¬
ing of the league concluded with the Ansars, began to
put Maho- think it absolutely necessary that he should be prevent-
Tr»*»fr t !• i
ed from escaping to Medina $ and, in order to do this
the more effectually, they resolved in a council, where¬
in it is said the devil assisted in person, to put an end
to his life. To accomplish this with the greater safe¬
ty, they agreed that a man should be chosen out of
every tribe, and that each should have a blow at him $
that so the guilt of his death might fall equally on all
the tribes j and thus the Hashemites would be prevent¬
ed from attempting to revenge the death of their kins¬
man, as they were much inferior in power to the rest
of the tribes put together. Mahomet now directed his
companions to repair to Medina, where, in consequence
Arabia.
40
The Ko¬
reish re¬
sol re to
met to
death.
4i
of the late treaty, they might be assured of protection.
This they accordingly did : but he himself, with Abu*
Beer and Ali, remained behind ; not having received,
as he pretended, the divine permission to retire. Here
he narrowly watched the motions of the Koreish, and
was soon apprised of their machinations : for the above-
mentioned conspiracy was scarcely formed, when by
some means or other it came to Mahomet’s knowledge j
and he gave out that it was revealed to him by the an¬
gel Gabriel, who also commanded him to retire from
Mecca. The conspirators were already assembled at
the prophet’s door j but he, to amuse them, ordered Ali
to lie down in his place, and wrap himself in his green
cloak: this Ali complied with, and Mahomet miracu-He outwits
ously, according to the Ai’abs, escaped to the house oflllcmand
Abu Beer. The conspirators, in the mean time, per-escaPes'
ceiving through a crevice Ali wrapped up in the green
cloak, took him for Mahomet himself, and watched
there till morning, when Ali arose, and they found
themselves deceived. The prophet next retired in com-In great
pany with Abu Beer to a cave in Mount Thur, a hill danger at
a little south of Mecca. Here he had a still more nar-Jj^1"1
row escape ; concerning which we have the following
account from an Arabic tradition. “ The Koreish ha¬
ving detached a party from Mecca to reconnoitre the
mouth of the cave, when they came there, found it co¬
vered by a spider’s web, and a nest built at the entrance
by two pigeons, which they saw, and which had laid
two eggs therein. On sight of this they reasoned with
themselves in the following manner: ‘ If any person
had lately entered this cavern, the eggs now before us
would infallibly have been broken, and the spider’s web
demolished 5 there can therefore be nobody in it:’ after
which they immediately retired. As the prophet,
therefore, and his friend, were now saved so miracu¬
lously by means of the pigeon’s eggs and the interposi¬
tion of the spider’s web, he afterwards enjoined his fol¬
lowers, in memory of so remarkable an event, to look
upon pigeons as a kind of sacred animals, and never to
kill a spider.” ... 43
The prophet and Abu Beer having staid in this cave He is pur-
three days in order to recover a little from their con-suedand
sternation, set out for Medina $ but the Koreish, ’
informed of the route they had taken, sent a party af- escape
ter them, under the command of Soraka Ebn Make.
These overtook them ; and, as the Arab historians tell
us, Soraka’s horse fell down when he attempted to
seize Mahomet. Upon this he recommended himself
to the prophet’s prayers, and remounted his horse with¬
out hurt: but, as he still continued the pursuit, his
horse fell down with him a second time $ upon which
he returned to Mecca, without offering any farther
violence : and Mahomet, thus happily delivered from
the greatest dangers, arrived without farther molesta¬
tion at Medina, where he was received with the great- ^
est demonstrations of joy. This flight of the prophet Bra 0ftii<
from Mecca to Medina was reckoned so remarkable Hegira,
by the Moslems, that they made it the era from whence
all their remarkable transactions were dated, calling it
the Era of the Hegira, or flight. The beginning of
the Hegira corresponded with the 16th of July, A. D.
622.
On Mahomet’s arrival at Mecca, his first care was to
build a mosque for his religious worship, and a house
for himself. The city of Medina at that time was in¬
habited
Arabia.
•45 r
[nion of
ie Ansars
id Moha-
:riu.
4<>
Mahomet
akesa ca.
aran, and
>ains the
cattle of
3edr.
A P A [ 497 3 A
habited partly by Jews and partly by heretical Chri- backs of a thousand camels,
stians, that formed two factions which persecuted one
another with great violence. This gave the impostor
such an opportunity of propagating his new religion,
that in a short time the city was entirely at his devo¬
tion. Here he strengthened himself by marrying
Ayesha the daughter of Abu Beer, though then only
seven years of age, and gave his own daughter Fatima
in marriage to Ali, the son of Abu Taleb. The next
point he had in view was the union of the Mohajerin,
or those who fled from Mecca on account of their re¬
ligion, with the Ansai’s above mentioned. To facili¬
tate this, after his mosque and house were finished, he
established among the Moslems a fraternity, the prin¬
cipal statute of which was, that they should not only
ti’eat one another like brethren, but likewise most cor¬
dially love and mutually cherish one another to the ut¬
most of their power. But lest even this should prove
insufficient, he coupled the individuals of the two bo¬
dies of Ansars and Mohajerin j and this was the last
transaction of the first year of the Hegira.
The next year was ushered in according to Abul-
feda, with a change of the Kebla, or place whither the
Mahometans were to turn their faces in prayer. At
fix-st it had been declared to be perfectly indift'erent
where they turned their faces. Afterwards he directed
them to pray with their faces towards the temple of
Jerusalem, probably with a view to ingratiate himself
with the Jews j and now, in order to gain the Pagan
Arabs, he ordered his followei’S to pray with their
faces towards the east. This inconstancy gave great
offence, and occasioned the apostasy of many of his dis¬
ciples. About this time Mahomet receiving advice
that a rich caravan of the Koreish wras on the road from
Syria to Mecca, he detached his uncle Hamza, at the
head of 30 horse, to seize upon it; who accordingly
lay in wait for it in one of the woods of Yamana,
through which it was to pass : here, however, he was
informed that the caravan was guarded by 300 men, so
that he returned without making any attempt $ but the
prophet made the proper dispositions for acting hereafter
against the Koi'eish with success. This year also Ma¬
homet sent out a party of 60 or 80 horse, all Moha¬
jerin, except one who was an Ansar, to make reprisals
on the Koreish. They were met by a party of their
enemies, and both sides immediately prepared for an
engagement: however, they parted without bloodshed,
except one of the Koreish, who was killed by an arrow
shot by one of the Moslems.
Malxomet having now put himself into an oftensive
posture, began in earnest to make reprisals on the Ko¬
reish. His first exploit was the taking of a caravan
attended by a small guard ; and this being accomplish¬
ed by a party consisting only of nine men, contributed
greatly to encourage the Moslems. But what most
established the impostor’s affairs, and was indeed the
true foundation of all his future greatness, was his gain¬
ing the battle of Bedr; of which we have the follow¬
ing account.—The prophet being informed that Abu-
Sofian F.bn Harb escorted a caravan of the Koreish
with only 30 or 40 men, resolved to advance at the
head of a small detachment of his troops to intercept
it. To this he was excited by the riches of the cara¬
van, which consisted of a large quantity of merchan¬
dise, consisting of the riches of Syria, carried on the
Vol. II. Part II. *
R A
He therefore sent out a Arabia,
party to reconnoitre it, with orders to wait in some —y~—"~
convenient place where they might remain undisco-
vered. But Abu Sofian having notice of Mahomet’s
motions, despatched a courier to Mecca, requesting
succours from his countrymen, that he might be able to
defend the caravan. Upon this Mahomet drew toge¬
ther all his force, which amounted to no more than
313, while his enemies consisted of very near 1000,
Abu Sofian having been reinforced by the Meccans
with 950 men. The two armies did not long x-emain
in a state of reaction : but before the battle three cham¬
pions fi’om each party engaged each other in single
combat. In this the Moslem champions were victo¬
rious, and the event gi’eatly discouraged the Koreish.
Mahomet, in the meantime, taking advantage of
this lucky event, offered up his prayers to God with
great fervency and vehemence ; after which, feigning
himself in a trance, he pretended that God had assuretl
him of victory. Then throwing an handful of dust or
gravel towards the enemy, he cried out, “ May the
faces of them be confounded 5” and attacked the Ko¬
reish with such bravery, that they were soon put to
flight, leaving 70 dead on the spot, and having as many
taken prisoners. The loss on Mahomet’s side was only
14 men, and among the prisoners was A1 Abbas, the
prophet’s uncle.
Though this action may seem of little consequence
in itself, it was of very great advantage to Mahomet’s
affairs at that time. He was immediately ti-eated with
the highest respect by the Najashi, or king of Ethio¬
pia, who received a pai’ticular account of the victory
soon after it wras gained $ while the superstitious Mos¬
lems did not fail to look upon it as an evident declara¬
tion of heaven in their favour. Nay, notwithstanding
the small number of enemies to be overcome, and who
were only mortal men, these ignorant bigots did not he¬
sitate to owm the assistance of no less than 4000 angels,
who according to them, rode on black and white horses,
having on their heads white and yellow sashes, that
hung down between their shoulders.
Notwithstanding' this disaster, however, Abu Sofian
made a pretty good retreat, and conducted the greatest
part of the caravan to Mecca. This chagrined the
Moslems, though they found great spoil on the field of
battle ; the division of which had likely to have proved
fatal to their cause, by the quarrels that it occasion¬
ed among them. So violent, indeed, were the disputes
on this occasion, that the impostor was obliged to 4y
pretend an immediate revelation from heaven, em-His law
powering him to retain a fifth part for religious pur-concc'ning
poses, and to distribute the rest equally. This became ^e li™ga
a law for his successors; but, with regard to himself,
the prophet often took the liberty of iirfringing it ;
for which, no doubt, a new revelation was always a
ready and convenient salvo. As for those who were
slain on Mahomet’s part in this battle, they were all
looked upon by the Moslems as martyrs 5 and the pro¬
phet perceiving among the prisoners two of his invete¬
rate enemies, immediately caused their heads to be
struck off.
The Koreish, in order to be revenged on Mahomet
for their late defeat at Bedr, sent Amru Ebn A1 As,
who afterwards conquered Egypt, with some other of
their principal people, on an embassy to the king of
3 R Ethiopia,
A R A [ 498 ] A R A
Arabia. Ethiopia, in ordei’to interest him in the quarrel. To
i—— -r ' do this the more effectually, they accused Mahomet
and his followers of speaking disrespectfully of Jesus
and his mother Maky ; which accusation they ho¬
ped would likewise induce him to deliver up the Mos¬
lem lefugees that were then at his court. But the bad
success that had attended the arms of the Koi’eish hi¬
therto, joined to the excuses made by the refugees,
not only hindered the Najashi from delivering them up,
but also prompted him to dismiss the ambassadors, and
return the presents they had brought him. In the
mean time, Abu Sofian, who had sworn never to use
perfumes or enjoy women till he had another battle
with Mahomet, set out from Mecca with a body of 200
horse. He advanced to a post within three miles of
Medina •, from whence he sent a detachment, who
burnt a barn, together with a man in it that was v/in
nowing wheat. Mahomet being informed of this
Abu Soli- outrage, moved immediately towards him with a de¬
an’s cowar-tachment of cavalry; but Abu Sofian was so intimi-
diec. dated by his approach, that he fled with precipitation,
leaving behind him all the sacks of flour or meal that
had been brought for the subsistence of his troops. In¬
stead therefore of coming to an engagement with the
impostor, as he had sworn, he contented himself with
alarming the country, and pillaging such as he suspected
of favouring Mahometanism.—This year also Maho¬
met conquered the tribes called Banu Solcim, Ghat-
fan, and the Banu Kainoka; plundering likewise a
rich caravan belonging to the Koreish, and acquiring
from thence 25,000 dirhems for his own share of the
plunder.
In the year of Christ 625, being the third of the Ele-
gira, the Koreish assembled an army of 3000 men,
among whom were 200 horse and 700 armed with coats
of mail. The command of this army was given to
Abu Sofian, who was attended with his wife Henda
Bint Otba, and sat down at a village about six miles
distant from Medina. Mahomet being much inferior
to the enemy, resolved at first to keep himself within
the town, and receive them thei-e ; but afterwai-ds, by
the advice of his companions, marched out against
them at the head of 1000 according to some, 1050
according to others, or, as some say, only poo men.
Of these 200 were cuirassiers ; but he had only one
horse beside his own in the whole army. He distri¬
buted three standards among his troops ; of which one
was given to the tribe of Aws, another to that of
Khazraj, and the third to the Mohajerxn. The grand
49 standard was carried before the prophet by Mosaab
'Battle of Ebn Omair. - With these forces Mahomet* formed a
Qhod. camp in a village near Ohod, a mountain about four
miles north of Medina, which he contrived to have on
his back : and the better to secure his men from being
surrounded, he placed 50 archers, the flower of his
troops in the rear, with strict orders not to quit their
post. On the other hand, the army of the Koreish was
drawn up in the form of a crescent, and made a very
good appearance. The right wing was commanded
by Khaled Ebn A1 Walid, afterwards so terrible to
the Greeks ; the left by Acrema Ebn Abu Jahl; and
the centi-e by Abu Sofian. The corps de reserve
was headed by Abu Sofian’s wife, accompanied by 15
other matrons, who performed the office of drummers,
lamenting the fate of their countrymen slain at Bedr, Arabia
in order to animate the troops who attended them.y—«.
The attack was begun by the Moslems, who fell upon
the enemy with such fury, that their centre immedi¬
ately began to give way. Ali, ox1, according to Abul-
feda, Hamza, slew Arta the enemy’s gx-eat standard-
bearer ; which struck them with such terror, that they
soon betook themselves to flight, falling foul upon
their own corps de reserve. Victory had now been
no longer doubtful, notwithstanding the vast inferiori¬
ty of Mahomet’s troops, had not the 50 archers, con¬
trary to the prophet’s express command, quitted their
post to pillage the enemy. Upon this Khaled, per¬
ceiving the Moslem army to be greatly exposed, at¬
tacked them in the rear with such bravery, that he
turned the fortune of the day. Not content with put¬
ting the troops there in disorder, he cried out with all
his might, “ Mahomet is slain and this had such an
effect upon the Moslems, that they immediately took
to their heels, nor could the utmost endeavours of the
prophet himself afterwards rally them. He therefore Mahomet
found himself obliged to quit the field of battle; in defeated,
doing which he was very near losing his life, being
struck down by a shower of stones, and wounded in
the face by two arrows, which occasioned the loss of
two of his fore-teeth. He likewise received a contusion
on his upper lip; and had even been killed on the
spot, had not one of his companions, named Telha,
Abu Beer’s nephew, received a blow that was levelled
at him. On this occasion Telha received a wound in his
hand, which deprived him ever after of the use of some
of his fingers. Of the Moslems 70 were slain ; among
whom were Hamza, the prophet’s uncle, and Mosaab,
the standard-bearer. Amongst the wounded were Abu
Becx-, Omar, and Othman; but as soon as they un¬
derstood that the prophet was safe, they returned to
the charge with a considexable body, and after an ob¬
stinate dispute, carried him off'. The good retreat made
by these champions so discouraged the ti-oops of Abu
Sofian, that they did not pursue the flying enemy, but
contented themselves with remaining masters of the
field of battle; nor did that general, though he exulted
not a little in his victory, make any further use of it
than to give Mahomet a challenge to meet him the next
year at Bedr, which was accepted ; and after his return
to Mecca, he desired a truce with the Moslems, which
was readily granted. ^
This defeat had like to have proved the total ruin ofHe apol<
the impostor’s affaii’S, and must have inevitably done soS'zes^or
had the conquerors made the least use of their victory. ^etcat'
Some of his followers now asserted, that had he been
really a prophet sent from God, he could not have
been thus defeated : and others were exasperated on ac¬
count of the loss of their friends and relations who had
been slain in the late engagement. To still the mur¬
murs of the former, he laid the blame on the sins of
those who had accompanied him ; and, to pacify the
latter, he pretended a revelation from heaven, wherein
the period of all men’s lives was said to he unalterably
fixed, without regard to their own actions, or to any
external objects : so that those who were killed in bat¬
tle behoved to have died, though they had remained at
home in their own houses. By the assistance of this
last doctrine he encouraged his followers to fight, with¬
out
A R A [ 499 ] AHA
Arabia. ou^ ^ear> ^or propagation of their faith, as all their
»--y—' caution would not be sufficient to avert their destiny,
or prolong their lives even for a single moment.
The next year* (A. D. 626), Mahomet, besides se¬
veral other less considerable successes, reduced a fortress
belonging to the Jewish tribe of A1 Nadir, who had
revolted on account of the defeat at Ohod. On this
occasion, by an express revelation as he pretended, he
kept the whole booty to himself: and, about the same
time, forbade his followers the use of wine, or to play
at games of chance, on account of the disturbances and
quarrels which were likely to be excited by that means
among them. This year also he marched with a body
of infantry to Bedr, to meet Abu Sofian, as he had
promised the year before : but that general’s heart fail¬
ing him, he returned home without facing the prophet j
and this piece of cowardice the Moslems did not fail to
.e fof impute to a terror sent immediately from God. The
Medina, year following, however, the Koreish, in conjunction
with the tribe of Ghatfan, and the Jews of A1 Nadir
and Koreidha, assembled an army of 12,000 men, with
which they formed the siege of Medina; thus threaten¬
ing the impostor and all his followers with utter de¬
struction at once. On the enemy’s approach, Maho¬
met, by the advice of a Persian named Salman, or¬
dered a deep ditch to be dug round the city, and went
out to defend it with 3000 men. The Arabs having
invested the town, both sides remained in a state of in¬
activity for some time ; which was so well employed by
the impostor, that he found means to corrupt some of
the leading men in the enemy’s camp. The good effects
of this soon appeared 5 for a champion having advan¬
ced to the Moslem intrenchments, and challenged the
best man in their army to fight him in single combat,
the challenge was immediately accepted by Ali, who
slew him and another that came to his assistance ; after
which, those who had been corrupted by Mahomet’s
53 agents so soured a considerable part of the forces, that
The siege they deserted their camp j upon which all the rest were
raised. obliged to raise the siege and return home.
The prophet, being now happily delivered from the
most powerful combination that had ever been formed
against him, was visited by the angel Gabriel ; who
asked him, whether he had suffered his men to lay down
their arms, when the angels had not laid down theirs ?
ordering him at the same time to go immediately against
the tribe of Koreidha, and assuring him that he himself
would lead the way. Upon this Mahomet immediate¬
ly set out for the fortress of the Koreidhites, and push¬
ed on the siege with so much vigour, that, though it
was deemed impregnable, he obliged the garrison to
capitulate in 25 days. The Koreidhites, not daring
to trust themselves to the impostor’s mercy, surrender¬
ed at discretion to Saad Ebn Moadb, prince of the
tribe of Aws, hoping that he, being one of their old
friends and confederates, would have some regard for
them. Here, however, they found themselves disap¬
pointed ; for Saad, being highly provoked at them for
assisting the Koreish while in league with Mahomet,
ordered the men to be put to the sword, the women
^ and children made slaves, and their goods divided
KWeid- among the Moslems. This sentence was no sooner
hitesmassa-heard by Mahomet, than he cried out that Saad had
ere<k pronounced the sentence of God ; and, in consequence
of this decision, ordered the men, to the number of
600 or 700, to be immediately massacred. The women Arabia.
and children were also carried into captivity. Their \ '
immoveable possessions were given to the Mohajerin,
and the goods divided equally.
Mahomet now continued to be successful, gradually
reducing the Arab tribes one after another. In 628,
he sent an agent to Constantinople, desiring leave of the
Greek emperor to trade with his subjects; which was
immediately granted. The same year also he conclud¬
ed a peace for ten years with the inhabitants of Mecca,
and obtained liberty the next year to perform his devo¬
tions at the Caaba. What tended considerably to bring
about this pacification was an account brought to the
Koreish by one whom they had sent with an actual de- 55
fiance to Mahomet, of the prodigious veneration which Prodigious
his followers had for him. This messenger acquainted fo^jaho-
them that he bad been at the courts both of the Ko met>
man emperors and of the kings of Persia, but never
saw any prince so highly respected as Mahomet was
by his companions. Whenever he made the ablution,
in order to say his prayers, they ran and caught the
water which he had used 5 whenever he spit, they licked
it up, and gathered up every hair that fell from him,
with great veneration. This intimated how despe¬
rately they would fight in his defence, and probably 56
inclined his enemies to avoid hostilities. 111629, the He invites
impostor began to think of propagating his religion be-^®1^1^
yond the bounds of Arabia, and sent messengers to se-embrace his
veral neighbouring princes to invite them to embracereijgi0n,
Mahometanism ; but, before sending the letters, he
caused a silver seal to be made, on which were engra¬
ved in three lines the following words, “ Mahomet
the Apostle of God.” This seal he believed would
procure the letters to which it was affixed a more fa¬
vourable reception at the courts of those princes whi¬
ther they were directed. The first to whom he applied
was Khosru Parvis the king of Persia; but he, finding
that Mahomet had put his own name before his, tore the
letter in pieces, and sent away the messenger very ab¬
ruptly. He also sent a letter to the same purpose to Con¬
stantinople ; but though the emperor Heraclius dismis¬
sed his messengers honourably, he refused to abandon
the Christian faith. Besides these, he wrote five other
letters, which he distributed among those who he thought
would be most likely to acknowledge him for an apostle.
However, we do not hear that by means of letters he
ever introduced his religion into a foreign country.— .y
But while our impostor was thus going on in the full ca-is poisoned,
reer of success, and industriously propagating his infa-lnit reco-
mous falsehoods by all the means he could think of, hevers-
was poisoned by a maid, who wanted, as she said, to
make an experiment whether he was a prophet or not.
This was done by communicating some poison to a
shoulder of mutton, of which one of his companions, na¬
med Bashar Ebn Al Bara, eating heartily, died upon
the spot *, and Mahomet himself, though he recovered
a little, and lived three years after, yet never enjoyed
perfect health. Notwithstanding this misfortune, how¬
ever, he still continued his enterprises. I he year 630
proved remarkably fortunate. It was ushered in by
the conversion of Khaled Ebn Al Walid, Amru Ebn
Al As, and Othman Ebn Telha, three of the most
considerable persons among the Koreish ', and this soon
enabled him to become master of the whole peninsula
of Arabia. This year also the inhabitants of Mecca
3 R 2 took
s
A R A [ 5oo ] A R A
Arabia, took it into their heads to violate the treaty concluded
n, v——' with Mahomet : for the tribe of Beer, who were the
S3 confederates of the Koreish, attacking those of Kho-
rLlateThe zaab> wbo were in alliance 'vitb Mahomet, massacred
treaty6with 20 °i them, and afterwards retired ; being supported
lHahomet. in this action by a party of the Koreish themselves.—
The consequence of this violation was soon apprehend¬
ed ; and Abu Sofian himself made a journey to Medina,
in order to heal the breach and renew the truce: but in
vain ; for Mahomet, glad of this opportunity, refused
to see him. Upon this he applied to Abu Beer, All,
Omar, and Fatima, to intercede for their countrymen
with the prophet j but some of these giving him rough
answers, and others none at all, he was obliged to re¬
turn to Mecca as he came. Mahomet immediately gave
orders for the necessary preparations, that he might sur¬
prise the Meccans, who were by no means in a condi¬
tion to receive him •, but Hateb Ebn Abu Baltaa, hi¬
therto a faithful Moslem, attempted to give them notice
of their danger by a letter ; though without effect. His
letter was intercepted : and he alleged in his excuse,
that the only reason he had for his conduct was to in¬
duce the Koreish to treat his family with kindness. This
excuse the prophet accepted, as he had greatly distin¬
guished himself at the battle of Bedr, but strictly for-
; bade any such practices for the future j which having
done, he immediately made the necessary dispositions
for setting forward.
Mahomet’s army, on this occasion, was composed of
Mohajerin, Ansars, and other Arabs, who had lately
become proselytes. As they drew near to Mecca, he
set up his standards, and advanced in order of battle
to Mar A1 Dharan, a place about four parasangs from
Mecca, where the whole army encamped. Here he
ordered 10,000 fires to be lighted, and committed
the defence of the camp to Omar, who cut off all com¬
munication with the town, so that the Meccans could
receive no certain advice of their approach. Among
others that came from Mecca to reconnoitre the Moslem
camp, Abu Sofian Ebn Hai b, Hakim Ebn Hezam, and
Bodail Ebn Warka, fell into Omar’s hands ; and being
conducted to Mahomet, were obliged to embrace Ma¬
hometanism in order to save their lives.
Hie first rumour of this expedition had not a little
terrified the Koreish, though they were not apprised
that the prophet had resolved upon a war; but perceiv¬
ing now, upon the report of Abu Sofian, who had been
sent back to them, that the enemy was at their gates,
they were thrown into the utmost consternation. Of
this Mahomet being informed, he resolved to take ad¬
vantage of the confusion that then reigned among them.
He therefore first despatched Hakem and Bodail to the
Meccans, inviting them to take an oath of allegiance
to him, and become converts to his new religion *, after
which, he made the following disposition of his forces.
Al Zobeir was ordered to advance with a detachment
toward the town on the side of Mount Cada. Saad
Ebn Obad, prince of the tribe Khazraj, marched by
his order with another detachment towards the height
of Coba, which commands the plain of Mecca. Ali
commanded the left wing of the army, consisting of An¬
sars and Mohajerin. The prophet put into his hands
the great standard of Mahometanism, with orders to
post himself upon Mount Al Hajun, and to plant the
standard there 5 strictly enjoining him, however, not
2
to stir from thence till he himself arrived, and till a Arabia,
proper signal should be given him from Saad for that y—
purpose. Khaled led the right wing, consisting of the
Arabs lately converted, with which he was to possess
himself of the plain of Mecca. Abu Obeidab com¬
manded in the centre, which consisted entirely of infan¬
try ; the prophet himself remained in the rear, from
whence he could most easily despatch his orders to all
the generals as occasion should require. He expressly
prohibited Khaled and all his other officers from acting
offensively unless they were first attacked. Things be¬
ing in this situation, the army upon a signal given put
itself immediately in motion. The prophet mounted his
camel with great alacrity, and was that day clothed in
red. Al Zobeir pursued the route assigned him with¬
out opposition } nor did Saad discover the faintest traces
of an enemy : Ali took possession of bis post without
the loss of a man j and in like manner Abu Obeidah
seized on the suburbs. Khaled, however, in his march
to the plain, was met by a large body of the Koreish
and their confederates, whom he immediately attacked
and defeated, putting 28 of them to the sword. Not Mecca u-
content with this, he pursued them into the town, and ken.
massacred a great number of the inhabitants; which so
terrified the rest, that some shut themselves up in their
houses, while others fled different ways in order to avoid
the fury of the merciless and impious tyrant, who was
now become master of the city. Thus was Mecca re¬
duced, with the loss only of two men on the side of the
impostor.
Mahomet being now master of the city, made his
public entry into it exactly at sunrising. When the first
tumult was over, he went in procession round the Caaba
seven times, touching the corner of the black stone with
the staff' in his hand, as often as he passed it, with
great devotion. Then he entered the Caaba ; where
observing several idols in the form of angels, and the
statues of Abraham and Ishmael with the arrows of
divination in their hands, he caused them all to be de¬
stroyed. He also broke in pieces with his own hands
a wooden pigeon, that had long been esteemed a deity
by the idolatrous Koreish. Afterwards entering into
the interior part of the Caaba, he repeated with a loud
voice the form used at this day by the Mahometans,
“ Allah Akbar, God is great,” &c. turning towards
every part of the temple. Then be prayed between
the two pillars there, with two inclinations, as well as
without the Caaba*, saying to those that attended him,
“ This is your Kebla, or the place towards which you
are to turn your faces in prayer.”
Having thus effectually subdued the Koreish, put
an end to all commotions, and purged the Caaba of
360 idols, the prophet’s next care was to ingratiate
himself with the people. Sending therefore for some
of the principal of them, he asked them what kind of
treatment they expected from him, now be bad con¬
quered them ? To this they replied, “ None but what
is favourable, O generous brother upon which he
dismissed them, telling them they were from that mo¬
ment a free people. After this, pretending a new re¬
velation, he restored the keys of the Caaba to Othman
Ebn Telha, who was in possession of them before 5 and
who was now so much affected by this piece of justice,
that he immediately became a proselyte. Next day
the prophet declared Mecca an asylum, and publicly
gave
AHA [ 501 ] AHA
lirabia. g^ve out that he would maintain to the utmost of his
—Y—' power the inviolable security of the place. He then
was solemnly inaugurated ; after which he proscribed,
according to some, six men and four women, according
to others, eleven men and one woman : but of these on¬
ly three men and one woman were put to death ; the
rest being pardoned on their embracing Mahometan¬
ism, and one woman making her escape. The remain¬
der of this year was spent in various expeditions against
different tribes of the Arabs, which were in general
attended with success.
The pth year of the Hegira, being that of Christ
631, is called by the Mahometans the year of Em¬
bassies; for the Arabs, who had hitherto been expecting
the issue of the war between Mahomet and the Koreish,
no sooner saw that tribe, which was the most considerable
of the whole, submit to him, than they began to come
in to him in great numbers, and to send embassies to
make their submissions to him, both w'hile at Mecca
and after his return to Medina, whither he had return¬
ed soon after the taking of Mecca : and this good for-
60 tune continued without interruption to the year 632,
Mahomet when the famous impostor breathed his last, having
es< just reduced under his subjection the whole peninsula
of Arabia, and being ready to break into the neigh¬
bouring kingdoms in order to satisfy his ambition,
reat con ^ie ^ea^1 Mahomet occasioned such a consterna-
sion on tion ,n Mecca, that the governor hid himself, fearing
s death, to be called to an account for his former conduct j and
the inhabitants, upon the first arrival of this melancholy
news, considered themselves as destitute of all manner
of protection. After the first impressions of their fear,
however, were over, they began to meditate a revolt j
but were prevented by one Sohail Ebn Amru, a princi¬
pal man of the Koreish. The tumults at Medina, how¬
ever, were not so easily appeased. The news of this sad
event were no sooner published there, than a number of
people assembled before his door, crying out, “ How
can our apostle be dead ! Our intercessor, our media¬
tor has not entirely left us ! He is taken up into hea¬
ven, as waslsa (Jesus) j therefore he shall not be buried.”
This was confirmed by Omar 5 who drew his sword, and
swore, that if any person affirmed Mahomet to be dead,
he would cut off his hands and his feet. “ The apos¬
tle of God (says he) is not dead : he is only gone for
a season, as Moses the son of Amram was gone from
the people of Israel for 40 days, and then returned
to them again.” The populace therefore kept the body
above ground, even after the belly began to swell j
nor could the prophet’s uncle A1 Abbas, notwithstand¬
ing this, convince them to the contrary. Upon hear¬
ing of these transactions, Abu Beer immediately posted
from A1 Sonah, another quarter of the city, and ex¬
postulated with them in the following manner : “ Ho
you- worship Mahomet, or the god of Mahomet? If
the latter, he is immortal, and liveth forever*, but if
the former, you are in a manifest error, for he is cer¬
tainly dead.” The truth of this assertion he immedi¬
ately evinced from several passages of the Koran, in so
clear and conclusive a manner, that he not only satisfied
Omar, but calmed the minds of all the people.
The prophet having left no directions concerning a
successor, very warm disputes arose between the Moha-
jerin and the Ansars about the right of electing a ca¬
liph. The former insisted pn having that right, because
they had attended Mahomet in his flight to Medina j Arabia,
and the others, because they had supported him when w 1 v— J
expelled from his native city, &c. In short, the dis¬
putes became so hot, that an open rupture must have
commenced, had not they been terminated by a propo¬
sal that each party should choose a caliph. This amused
them a little for the present; but not proving perfectly
agreeable to the Mohajerin, Abu Beer proposed two
persons, Omar and Abu Obeidah, offering to swrear al->
legiance to him on whom the suffrages of both parties
should fall. But this producing no decision, Omar 62
swore fealty to Abu Beer, and his example was follow-
ed by all the Moslems on the spot; upon which he was
acknowledged both bv the Mohajerin and Ansars as
the rightful successor of Mahomet. 63
These transactions, however, were not at all agree-AH dissati*-
able to Ali, who, as son-in-law to the prophet, had^*
undoubtedly the best title to the succession. He expos¬
tulated with Abu Beer about the manner of his elec¬
tion, which had been effected without his knowledge j
and received for answer, that the exigence of affairs
would not admit of deliberation j and that, had not the
election been so sudden, the opposite party would have
wi*ested the power entirely out of their hands. Ali was
in Fatima’s apartment when Abu Beer had the good luck
to be elected caliph j and, upon the arrival of the news,
expressed great dissatisfaction. He found himself, how¬
ever, soon obliged to change his note, when the new
caliph sent Omar with orders to burn the house where
he and his friends were assembled, in case he did not
concur in supporting the election. But notwithstand¬
ing his forced compliance on this occasion, it is not to
be doubted that he reckoned himself injured ; and his
pretensions were thought to be just by a great number
of Moslems : which notion is entertained by a very
considerable party of Mahometans even at this day j
and these are called Shiites or sectaries.
Soon after Abu Beer’s accession, many of the Arabs
refused to pay the tribute imposed upon them by Ma¬
homet, and even attempted to shake off’ his yoke alto¬
gether. This so alarmed the caliph and his subjects at
Medina, that, fearing a general revolt, they sent all
not able to bear arms into the cavities of the rocks and
mountains, and put themselves in as good a posture of
defence as the short time would permit. In the mean
time Khaled was despatched with an army of 4500 men Rebellion*
to reduce the rebels: and he soon coming up with them,e^t«1g«2sh-
gave them a total defeat, brought off a vast quantity of y a'
plunder, and made many of their children slaves. Nor
was he content with this j for being sent by Abu Beer
to Malek Ebn Noweirah, an eminent person among the
Arabs, and famous for his skill in poetry as well as his
horsemanship and bravery, to bring him over by fair
means, he immediately ordered his head,to be cut off.
By this means, indeed, he extinguished all the remains
of rebellion *, but rendered himself exceedingly obnoxi¬
ous to Abu Beer, who would have put him to death,
had not Omar strongly interceded for him : for Khaled
had greatly exceeded his commission, as Malek had re¬
turned to Mahometanism, and had offered to pay the
money. This was not, however, the only piece of ser¬
vice Khaled performed at this time $ he also defeated
and killed Moseilama, who had set up for a prophet in
the time of Mahomet, and even wanted to take the
grand impostor himself into company with him. the
* same
AHA [ 502 ] AHA
Arabia, same general likewise defeated and dispersed the troops
« 0f another prophet, called Toleiah Ebn Khowailed, obli-
ffing himself to remain concealed till after the death of
Abu Beer. About the same time another body or re¬
bels committed great disorders in the province of Bah¬
rein. Against these Abu Beer despatched A1 Ola at
the head of a considerable army, who soon obliged
them to return to Mahometanism ; having put great
numbers of them to the sword, and plundered their
<?5 country in a dreadful manner.
War with Abu Beer having now no enemy to contend with in
the, Greeks.^rakja> an(j being free from all apprehensions of a com¬
petitor, resolved next to turn his arms against the
Greek emperor* Some skirmishes had happened, in
the time of Mahomet, between the Moslems and
Greeks; in one of which Zeid, a Moslem commander,
had been killed. To revenge his death, his son Osa¬
ma was on the point of making an irruption into Syria
at the time of Mahomet’s decease. This enterprise
the caliph ordered him to go on with ; and it was
executed by Osama with great success. He entered
Syria, and laid waste the country, doing the Greeks a
good deal of damage: after which he returned to A-
65 rabia without any considerable loss.
Kingdom Soon after the caliph sent Khaled at the head of a
ofHiraie- powerful army to invade Irak, and put an end to the
stroyed. kingdom orHira. In this undertaking he was attend¬
ed with his usual success. The king A1 Mondar A1
Maghrur lost his life in defence of his dominions; and
the kingdom was totally destroyed, after it had conti¬
nued 622 years and eight months, as we have already
hinted. The inhabitants became tributaries ; and, ac¬
cording to Eutychius, the tribute collected on this oc¬
casion amounted to 70,000 pieces of money. This, ac¬
cording to Al Makin, was the first tribute money ever
brought to Medina.
The exigence of the caliph’s affairs in Syria, how¬
ever, did not suffer Khaled long to remain in Irak.
Before the departure of the army under his command,
Abu Beer had come to a resolution to invade Syria ;
and finding his design approved by the principal offi¬
cers of his court, he sent circular letters to the petty
princes of Yaman, the chief men of Mecca, &c. in¬
forming them of his intention to take Syria out of the
hands of the infidels ; acquainting them, at the same
time, that a war for the propagation of the true reli¬
gion was an act of obedience to God. To these letters
they paid a proper regard ; and in a very short time
appeared at Medina at the head of their respective
troops, and pitched their tents round the city. Here
they staid till the Moslem army destined to act against
the emperor was completely formed, and in a capacity
to begin its march. The caliph having viewed the
troops from the top of a hill, and prayed to God for
success, attended the generals a little way on foot. As
the generals were on horseback, they could not forbear
expressing their uneasiness at the caliph’s thus demean¬
ing himself; but he told them, that it signified little
whether they walked on foot or rode, as they had all
the same views, viz. the service of God, and the pro-
pagation of religion. At parting, he addressed Yezid
Aba Beer’s whom he had invested with the su-
directions preme command, in the following manner: “ Take
to his ge- care, Yezid Ebn Abu Sofian, to treat your men with
neral. tenderness and lenity. Consult with your officers on
3
all pressing occasions, and encourage them to face the Arabia
enemy with bravery and resolution. If you shall hap- ——v-»
pen to be victorious, destroy neither old people, wo¬
men, nor children. Cut down no palm trees, nor burn
any fields of corn. Spare all fruit trees, and slay no
cattle but such as you shall take for your own use.
Adhere always inviolably to your engagements, and
put none of the religious persons you shall meet with
in monasteries to the sword. Oft'er no violence to the
places they serve God in. As for those members of
the synagogues of Satan who shave their crowns, cleave
their skulls, and give them no quarter, except they em¬
brace Islamism (Mahometanism), or pay tribute.”
The Greek emperor was greatly alarmed at the ap¬
proach of the Moslem army ; however, he made all
necessary preparations for his defence, and sent out a
detachment to reconnoitre the enemy. These having
fallen in with the Arabs, a battle ensued, in which the
Greeks were defeated tvith the loss of 1200, while the
Arabs lost only 120 men. This was succeeded by a
great many skirmishes, in which the Moslems were ge¬
nerally victorious. The rich spoil taken on these oc¬
casions were sent as a present to the caliph ; who having
acquainted the inhabitants of Mecca with his good suc¬
cess, they were thereby so elated, that they furnished
him with a strong reinforcement, which was immedi¬
ately ordered into Syria. The Greek emperor, in the
mean time, having ordered another body of his troops
to advance towards the frontiers, they found an oppor¬
tunity of engaging the Moslem army under Abu Obei- ^
dah, a person of great piety, but little experience in The Mi
W'ar. Him they totally defeated ; and Abu Beer was lems de
so much provoked at his defeat, that he deprived him feiited.
of the command, which was given to Khaled, who was
for this purpose recalled from Irak. That general’s
first exploit was the reduction of Bostra, a very rich and
populous city of Syria Hamascena ; which, however,
he accomplished by treachery rather than by force of
arms. Having left a garrison of 400 men in Bostra,
and being joined by Abu Obeidah’s forces, he laid ^
siege to'Damascus with an army of 45,000 men. This j)amas,
so alarmed the emperor, that he despatched an army of besiege
100,000 men, commanded by one Werdan, to the re¬
lief of that city. Khaled, on hearing of the approach
of this formidable army, was for marching immediate¬
ly with all his forces, and giving them battle ; but this
was opposed by Abu Obeidah, as it would enable the
inhabitants of Damascus to procure fresh supplies both
of arms and provisions, and consequently render the re¬
duction of the place more difficult. It was, therefore,
at last agreed that a body of troops should be detached
under Derar Ebn Al Wazar, an excellent officer, and
an implacable enemy to the Christians (as indeed were
all the Moslem generals except Abu Obeidah), to fight
the enemy, whilst the siege was carried on by the two
generals.
Khaled, fearing lest Derar’s furious zeal and hatred The Gi b
to the Christians should prove fatal to bis troops, tolddefeate
him before his departure, that though they were com-with grit
manded to fight for the propagation of their religion, s'aught
yet they were not allowed to throw away the lives of
their men ; and therefore ordered him to retire to the
main body of the army, in case he found himself pres¬
sed by a superior force. But Derar, deaf to this salu¬
tary admonition, with his small body of troops rushed
upon
AHA [ 503 ] - A R A
Uabia. ^P^11 ^ie whole Christian army, notwithstanding the
-v-—' vast disproportion of numbers. Pie charged them,
however, with such bravery, that he penetrated to the
spot where the general gave his orders, killed the stand¬
ard-bearer, and carried off the standard itself, in which
was a cross richly adorned with precious stones. Nay,
he would in all probability have put Werdan’s army
to flight, had not the general’s son, the commandant
of Hems, arrived in the heat of the engagement, with
a body of 10,000 men ; with which he attacked the
Moslems so briskly in the rear, that he forced them to
retire, and took Derar himself prisoner. This so dis¬
couraged them, that they would have taken to their
heels, had not Raff Ebn Omeirah animated them with
the following words : “ What! do you not know, that
whoever turns his back upon his enemies offends God
and his prophet ? and that the prophet declared the
gates of paradise should be open to none hut such as
fought for religion P Come on ! I will go before you.
If your captain be dead, or taken prisoner, yet your
God is alive, and sees what you do.” This exhortation
had such an effect upon his troops, that returning to
the charge, they maintained their ground with unpa¬
ralleled bravery, till Khaled arrived with a conside¬
rable body of infantry and IOOO horse. The arrival
of this general soon turned the fortune of the day. A
party of the imperial army went over to the Moslems,
and the rest took to their heels. Derar also was re¬
taken, and carried off in triumph. However, Wer-
dan having collected the scattered remains of his for¬
ces, and received a reinforcement from the emperor,
found his army still to amount to 70,000 men, with
which he resolved to make another attempt for the re¬
lief of Damascus. They were attended with still worse
success in this second attempt than they had been be¬
fore } being utterly defeated, with the loss of 50,000
men, so that they were no more in a condition to at-
Tj^ity tempt any thing; and, in consequence of this, the city
iken. } was soon taken, notwithstanding the utmost efforts of
12 the besieged.
bu Beer This disastrous event happened in the year 634 ; and
ies, andis the very day that Damascus was taken, Abu Beer died
icceeded 0f a consumption in the 63d year of his age. He was
v°raar. guccee£]e(l by Omar, who was proclaimed caliph that
very day j and the first title assigned him was, The ca¬
liph of the caliph of the apostle of God. But the Arabs
considering, that by the additions to be continually
made at the accession of every new caliph, the title
would become too long, they with one voice saluted
him, Emperor of the believers i which illustrious title
descended afterwards to lus successors by a kind of in¬
contestable right.
The new caliph was no sooner settled than he repla¬
ced Abu Obeidah in the command of the army in Sy¬
ria, being greatly displeased with the cruel and blood¬
thirsty disposition of Khaled. He also commanded A-
bu Obeidah to have an eye upon Palestine, and to in¬
vade it as soon as an opportunity offered. Khaled bore
his disgrace with great magnanimity j and swore, that
though he had always had the greatest regard for Abu
Beer, and the utmost aversion to Omar, he would sub¬
mit to God’s will, and obey the new caliph as the law¬
ful successor of Mahomet. Ihe Moslem forces in the
mean time having made all proper dispositions for im¬
proving the advantages they had gained, Abu Obei-
dah sent a detachment of 500 horse to a place called Arabia.
Bair Abel Kodos, about 30 miles Irom Damascus, to' v 1
plunder the Christians there. In this place there lived
a priest so eminent for his sanctity, that the neighbour¬
ing people of all ranks resorted to him for his blessing
and instruction. When any person of distinction mar¬
ried, he took with him his new spouse, in order to re¬
ceive this holy man’s benediction. The fame of this
priest’s sanctity drew such numbers of people to that
place every Easter, that a great fair was kept annually
at his house, to which were brought vast quantities of
the richest silk, plate, jewels, &c. When the Arabs
drew near to this place, to which they were conducted
by a Christian, they were informed that the governor
of Tripoli had married his daughter to a person of di¬
stinction, who had carried his lady to the above-men¬
tioned priest. She was attended by a guard of 50CO
men ; besides which, the Jews, Greeks, Copts, and
Armenians, at that time assembled about the monaste¬
ry, amounted to 10,000. Notwithstanding this, the 73
Moslem commander determined to carry off the lady ; Governor
and having told his men, that they should either enjoy Tripoli’s
the riches of the Christians, or the pleasures of para-
disc, he commanded them to fall on the enemy. The
impetuosity of these enthusiasts at first bore all down
before them; but the Christians, perceiving they were
but a handful of men, surrounded them on all sides,
and resolved to make them pay dear for their temerity.
But Abu Obeidah, being informed of their dangerous .
situation, immediately despatched Khaled with a strong
detachment to the relief of his distressed countrymen.
The consequence of this was, that the Christians were
entirely defeated, and the unhappy lady carried off,
with 40 maids that waited upon her, as well as all the
wealth brought to the above-mentioned fair 5 among
which were many rich garments .curiously wrought,
and in particular one adorned with the effigies ol our
Saviour. All these were sold for ten times their weight
of gold to some of the opulent Arabs of Yaman. The
young lady was given to Abdallah, who kept her to
the reign of Yezid. Of this advantage Abu Obei¬
dah sent notice to the caliph by a letter, in which he
also acquainted him that some of his men had drunk 74
wine. These delinquents, by the advice of Ali, had Punishment
each of them 80 stripes bestowed upon the soles oP^"^
their feet: after which, many others, who had never wll0 ^
been suspected of drinking this prohibited liquor, made drunk winea
a voluntary confession, and received the same chastise¬
ment.
The Moslem general next set about reducing the
principal fortresses in Syria, and soon became master of
Kinnisrin, Baalbec, Adestan, Shaizar, and Hems > on
the news of which, the Greek emperor Heraclius, re¬
solving if possible to put a stop to the cruel and unpro¬
voked ravages of these barbarians, sent against them an
army of 240,000 men, commanded by one Manuel,
whom the Arabs called Mahan. But this vast multitude
was utterly defeated by Khaled ; upon whom Abu O- The Greeks
beidah conferred the supreme command, on account oi uUerly de-
his superior skill in military affairs. This battle 'vasy^mouk
fought near a village called Yermouk ; and, according
to the Arabian historians, the Christians had 150,000
men killed and 40,000 taken prisoners, while the Mo¬
slems lost no more than 4030 men.
The defeat at Yermouk was immediately followed
by.
A R. A [ 504 ] A R A
Arabia, by the loss of the whole province of Palestine. The
' v - reduction of Jerusalem was one of its first consequences;
. . and Omar, being apprised of the success of his arms,
Jerusalern.3immediately set out to visit that holy place, at the re-
" quest, it is said, of the inhabitants. The caliph was
attended in his journey by a numerous retinue, most of
whom afterwards returned home. He rode upon a red
camel, and carried with him two sacks, one of which
contained a sort of provision consisting of barley, rice,
or wheat, sodden and unhusked, and the other fruits.
Before him he had a leather bottle, very necessary in
these desert countries to put water in ; and behind him
a wooden platter. Before he left the place where he
had rested the preceding night, he constantly said the
morning prayer ; after which he addressed himself to
his attendants in a devout strain, always uttering be¬
fore them some pious ejaculations. Then he commu¬
nicated his provision to them ; every one of his fellow
travellers eating with him out of the same platter, with¬
out the least distinction. His clothes were made of
camels hair, and were in a very tattered condition ;
nor could any thing be more mean or sordid than the
figure he made. On the road he distributed justice
among his subjects; concerning which we have several
•yj anecdotes; but that most to his honour is the follow-
Anecdota ing : Having observed some poor tributaries exposed
of him. t0 Jjeat 0f f]ie sunj a very cruel punishment in those
hot countries, for not being able to pay the sum de¬
manded of them, he ordered them to be released ; tel¬
ling his attendants, that he once heard the apostle of
God say, “ Do not afflict men in this world; for those
who do so, God shall punish in hell fire at the day of
judgment.” His orders were immediately executed,
to the great grief of the oppressors; and the caliph
continued his route. On the confines of Syria he was
met by Abu Obeidah attended by an escort, who con¬
ducted him to the Moslem camp, where he wras re¬
ceived with the utmost demonstrations of joy; and
from thence to Jerusalem. The morning after his ar¬
rival, he said prayers and preached to the troops. In
his sermon he repeated the following passage out of the
Koran. “ Whomsoever God shall direct, he shall be
rightly directed; and whomsoever he shall cause to
err, thou shalt not find any to defend or to direct.”
Upon this a Christian rose up, and said aloud twice,
“ God causes no one to err.” Omar made no answer
to him, but commanded the Moslems near him to
strike off the infidel’s head if he repeated those words
again ; but the priest took care to give him no further
interruption. After the conclusion of his sermon, he
pitched his tent, made of hair, within sight of the ci¬
ty : then he signed the articles of capitulation ; by
which the inhabitants were entitled to the free exer¬
cise of their religion, the possession of their properties,
and his protection.
The articles of capitulation being signed, Omar, in
pursuance of his engagements, gave the inhabitants a
schedule, by which they were secured in the full pos¬
session of all that had been agreed upon : after which
the gates were opened to him, and he entered the town.
He was waited upon by the patriarch Sophronius,
with whom he conversed familiarly, and asked him
many questions concerning the antiquities of the city.
One of the first places they visited was the temple of
the resurrection, in the midst of which Omar sat down 5
and when the hour of prayer was come, told the pa- Arabia,
tria«ch he had a mind to pray, and desired him to show -y—
him a place for that purpose. Sophronius told him he
might do so where he was ; but this he absolutely re¬
fused. Then the patriarch led him to St Constantine’s
church; but he likewise declined praying there. At
last he said his prayers upon one of the steps of the east
gate of the church ; telling the ,patriarch afterwards,
that had he prayed in any of the churches, the Mo¬
slems would infallibly have taken it from them, which,
he said, they might attempt as it was, and therefore
gave him a paper wherein the Moslems were com¬
manded not to pray on the steps of St Constantine’s
church in any numbers, but only one by one. After
this he desired the patriarch to show him a place where
he might erect a mosque; and was conducted to the
place where Jacob’s stone lay, on which he slept when
be saw the vision of the ladder. This stone had been
hitherto slighted, and no building suffered to be erect¬
ed upon it, in order to fulfil our Saviour’s prophecy,
that the habitation of the Jews should be left unto
them desolate, and that not one stone should be left
upon another. In consequence of this neglect it was
entirely covered with dirt, which the caliph immedi¬
ately began to carry away in his vest; and the Moslems
soon hastening to assist him, the stone was cleared in a
very short time. We are told by Theophanes, that
when Omar entered the temple of the resurrection, he
was clad in such mean and dirty apparel, that the pa¬
triarch took great offence at his appearance, and with
much difficulty at last prevailed upon him to put on
some clean linen and clothes till his own could be wash¬
ed. The same author relates, that when the patriarch
first saw Omar in that place, he could not forbear cry¬
ing out, “ This is of a truth the abomination of de¬
solation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, standing
in the holy place !” These words, as Mr Ockley ima¬
gines, being overheard by the Moslems, they trumped
up a story of the patriarch’s having owned that the
conquest of Jerusalem by Omar was foretold by the
prophet Daniel; and that an ancient prophecy was
kept in Jerusalem, concerning Omar, wherein his per¬
son was described, his name and religion specified, and
he declared to be the only man that could reduce that
city.
Before the caliph left Syria, he divided that country
into two parts ; one of which, that lay between Hafi-
ran or Aftran and Aleppo, which was not perfectly
conquered, he committed to the care of Abu Obeidah,
giving him the strictest orders to reduce it as soon as
possible. Yezid Ebn Abu Sofian was commanded to
take upon him the care of the other, which compre¬
hended Palestine, and the sea coast, and to make him¬
self absolute master of it, having a body of troops as¬
signed him for that purpose. He also directed Amru
Ebn A1 As to invade Egypt, then in a very languish¬
ing condition, with a body of Moslem forces. After
having made these dispositions for extending his con- -g
quests, Omar set out for Medina, where he arrived inHereta
perfect health, to the great joy of the inhabitants, whoto Medb
apprehended, from his long stay at Jerusalem, that he
had intended to fix his residence there.
Soon after Omar’s departure, Yezid advanced to
Caesarea ; but found the place so strong that he was
obliged to continue some time in a state of inaction.
Abu
A R A [ 505 ] A R A
Arabia. Abu Obeldah, in the mean time, advanced towards
—v—^ Aleppo, the citadel of which was at that time the
strongest in Syria. The citizens were struck with the
utmost consternation at his approach. They had at
that time two governors, who were brothers, and re¬
sided in the castle, which was situated at a little di¬
stance from the city. The names of these two gover¬
nors, who were of very different dispositions, were
Youkinna and John. Their father, by the emperor
Heraclius’s appointment, presided over all that tract
which lay betwixt Aleppo and the Euphrates ; and,
after his death, the chief management of affairs de¬
volved upon Youkinna, his brother John spending his
time mostlv in devotion and acts of charity. He would
therefore gladly have prevailed upon Youkinna to pur¬
chase a peace from the Arabs with money, rather than
make his country a scene of blood and" ravages j but
this not suiting the martial genius of Youkinna, he
armed a considerable number of the citizens, among
whom were several Christian Arabs, and distributed
money among them. He then told his men that he
intended to act offensively against the Arabs, and even
to engage them if possible before they drew too near.
To inspire them with the greater resolution, he ob¬
served, that the Moslem army was divided into several
bodies $ one of which had orders to besiege Csesarea,
another to march to Damascus, and the third to in¬
vade Egypt. Having thus animated his troops, he
put himself at the head of 12,000 of them, and march-
ed forwards to get intelligence of the enemy’s motions,
i. Moslem Abu Obeidah, in the mean time, had sent before him
etaeh- Caab Ebn Damarab, with IOOO men : giving him ex-
•ated^b" Press orders not to fight till he had received informa-
.'oukiuna. t*on t^ie enemy- Youkinna’s spies discovered Caab
and his men resting themselves and watering their horses
without the least apprehension of danger of which the
general being apprised, he posted one part of his troops
in ambuscade, and with the other attacked the Mos¬
lems. The Arabs behaved with their usual valour ; and
at first repulsed the Christians, notwithstanding their
superiority in numbers 5 but being attacked by the
troops that lay in ambush, they were at last forced to
retire*, having 170 killed, and almost all the rest
$0 wounded.
depposub- After Youkinna’s departure, the inhabitants of A-
nits to A.bu leppo, considering the calamities that awaited them if
Jbeidah. t}iejr c;jy should be taken by storm, submitted with¬
out delay to Abu Obeidah, and were taken under the
protection of the caliph. This disagreeable news be¬
ing communicated to Youkinna, he posted home with
all possible expedition, lest an attempt should be made
on the castle in his absence. On his arrival at Alep¬
po, he wras so highly incensed against the inhabitants,
81 that he threatened them with death if they did not dis-
^ruelty of annul the treaty with the Arabs, and deliver up the
loukinna. authors of it into his hands. This demand not being
immediately complied with, he fell upon the citizens
with great fury, and killed 300 of them ; among whom
was his brother John, whose head he caused to be
struck off, charging him with being the author and
abettor of the late pernicious scheme. He would have
made a much greater slaughter, had not the Moslem
army at that instant arrived before the town ; upon
which Youkinna retired into the castle with a conside-
Table body of troops j but before this could be effect-
Vol. II. Part II. i
ed, he tvas obliged to sustain an attack from the Arabs, Arabia,
in which he lost 3000 men. The action was no sooner —y——-i
ended than the inhabitants of Aleppo brought out forty
of Youkinna’s men, and as a proof of their fidelity de¬
livered them into Aba Obeidah’s hands. Of these
seven embraced Mahometanism, and the rest were be¬
headed. g2
Immediately after Youkinna had shut himself up in He is be-
the castle, a council of war was held in the Moslem sieged in
camp, wherein it was deliberated what measures were1*16 cha-
to be pursued on the present occasion. Khaled gave it^e*‘
as his opinion, that the castle ought immediately to be
attacked with all the Arab forces, before the emperor
had time to send them any assistance. This advice was
followed by Abu Obeidah, who caused the citadel to
be immediately invested 5 and soon after he had sur¬
rounded it with all his forces, made a most vigorous as¬
sault. The besieged defended themselves with great
bravery, and after a very warm dispute drove the enemy
into their camp *, and as they threw a great many stones
out of their military engines, many of the Moslems were
killed, and a much greater number wounded. This
encouraged Youkinna to make a sally with a strong
party of the garrison the following night. The fires
being then out in the Moslem camp, and the besiegers
not expecting such an unseasonable visit, 60 of them
were killed on the spot, and 50 taken prisoners. You¬
kinna, however, being briskly attacked by Khaled, who
soon drew together a body of troops to oppose him, lost
about 100 men in his retreat. The next day, he caused
the prisoners to be beheaded in sight of the Moslem
camp; and receiving advice that a strong party of
Arabian cavalry was sent out to forage, he ordered a
body of his horse to drive them to their camp 5 which
they accordingly did, killed 130 of them, seized ail
their camels, horses, &c. and then retired to the moun¬
tains. Here they proposed to remain concealed till the
following night, and then return to the castle 5 but
Abu Obeidah, being informed of what had happened,
detached Khaled and Derar with a body of troops to
pursue the Greeks, and revenge the late affront. Kha¬
led, being informed of the route the Christians had ta¬
ken, possessed himself of the only pass by which they
could return to the castle ; and having posted there a
body of his men whose courage he could depend upon,
took 300 of the Greeks prisoners as they attempted
to return, and put all the rest to the sword. The next
morning, to retaliate Youkinna’s cruelty, the prisoners
were all brought out and beheaded in sight of the gar-
risom # . 83
Notwithstanding this disaster, Youkinna made seve-uis vigor-
ral sallies with good success, wherein he killed a greatous de¬
number of the enemy, and harassed them to such a de-fence,
gree, that Abu Obeidah found himself obliged, for
bis greater security, to remove his camp to about a
mile’s distance from the castle j by which manoeuvre
he likewise hoped that Youkinna would be less upon
his guard. Herein, however, he found himself mis¬
taken : for the Greek commander, by the prudent mea¬
sures he took, eluded all surprise : and though Abu
Obeidah continued the siege for four months after the
last mentioned blow given to the garrison by Kha¬
led, yet he had scarce any hopes of making himself
master of it at last. Having nothing material to write
to the caliph, he remained a long time silent} at which
3 S Oma?
A R A
imbia. Omar being very much concerned, wrote to him, tlesir-
 v > jng an account of the affairs in Syria. Abu Obeuiah
acquainted him that the city of Aleppo had submitted
to him *, and that the citadel was the only place which
held out in all that country, before which he had lost
a great number of men, which, he said, had induced
him to think of raising the siege, and moving with his
army in that tract which lay between Antioch and A-
leppo. This news was by no means agreeable to the
caliph, who commanded his general to continue the
sieo-e at all events, and sent him a reinforcement of Arab
troops, together with 70 camels, to assist the infantry in
S. their march.
The citadel Among the troops sent by Omar in this occasion,
taken by there was an Arab of a gigantic size, called Dames,
stratagem. vvj10 was a man 0f great courage and resolution. He
observing the little progress made by the Moslems, be¬
thought himself of a stratagem by which that fortress
might be reduced, which seemed so difficult to be ac¬
complished by force. He therefore desired that Abu
Obeidah would assign him the command of a party con¬
sisting only of thirty men ; which at Khaled’s request
was readily granted. Then he begged the general to
raise the siege, and retire to about three miles distance
from the castle, which was likewise immediately com¬
plied with. The following night Dames, who had
posted himself with his party very near the citadel,
found means to seize a Greek, from whom he learned
that Youkinna, after the siege was raised, had exacted
large sums of money from the citizens, on account of
the treaty they had concluded with the Arabs j and
that he was one of those who had endeavoured to make
their escape from the oppression of such a tyrant, by
leaping down from the wall. This man Dames took
under his protection ; but beheaded five or six others
who fell into his hands, and could give no good account
of themselves. He then covered his head and shoulders
with a goat’s skin, and took a dry crust in his hand,
creeping on the ground till he got close to the foot of
the wall. If he heard any noise, or suspected any
person to be near, he made such a noise with his crust
as a dog does when he is gnawing a bone j his compa¬
nions sometimes walking, and sometimes creeping after
him in the same manner. He had before despatched
two of his men to Abu Obeidah, to desire that a de¬
tachment of horse should be sent him by break of day
to support his small party, and facilitate the execution
of the plan he had formed. At last Dames found
an opportunity of raising seven men upon his shoul¬
ders, who stood upon one another’s shoulders in such
a manner that the highest reached the top of the
wall. Here he soon placed himself, seized a watch¬
man whom he found asleep, and threw him over the
wall. Two others, whom he found in the same condi¬
tion, be stabbed with his dagger, and threw them over
likewise. Then he let down his turban, and drew
up the second of his brethren, as they two did the
third, and by their help Dames himself and all the
rest were enabled to mount the wall. He then private¬
ly stabbed the sentry at each of the gates, and put
his men in possession of every one of them. The sol¬
diers of the garrison, however, were at last alarmed,
and surrounded the Arabs, who were on the point of
perishing, when Khaled appeared at the head of a de¬
tachment of cavalry. On the sight of that general, who
AHA
was now grown terrible to the Christians, the besieged Arabia
threw down their arms, and surrendered at discretion. v —
Youkinna and some of the principal officers turned Ma- S5
hometans, in order to save their possessions j and the^ouk‘nm
castle, being taken by storm, was pillaged by the Mo-apostasy‘
slems. Dames acquired great glory by this exploit j
and, out of complaisance to him, the army did not de¬
camp from Aleppo till he and his men were perfectly
cured of their wounds.
After the reduction of the citadel of Aleppo, Abu
Obeidah intended to march to Antioch; but was di¬
verted by Youkinna, who was now become a violent
enemy to the Christians. He told the Moslem gene¬
ral, that his conquest of that part of the country would
not be complete without the reduction of Axaz, a
place of great importance, where Theodorus, Youkin-
na’s cousin-german, was commandant. This fortress he
proposed to become master of, by putting himself at
the head of 100 Arab horse, dressed in the Greek habit,
who were to attend him to Azaz. Upon his arrival
there, he was to assure Theodorus that he was still in
reality a Christian, and had taken that opportunity to
escape from the Moslem camp. But to make his story
more probable, Abu Obeidah was to send after him a
detachment of 1000 horse, who were to pursue him
as far as Morah, a village in the neighbourhood of
Azaz, with orders to post themselves there; from
whence, if such a measure should be found necessary,
they might easily advance to Azaz, to facilitate the
conquest of that place. To this scheme Abu Obeidah
agreed; but Youkinna with all his men were immedi- u
ately taken prisoners by Theodorus, who had been in-jieistai
formed of the whole affair by a spy in the Moslem camp, prisonei
who had sent him a letter by a pigeon. The fortress,
however, was soon reduced, and Youkinna regained hisr^°r®^
liberty ; but was soon after taken prisoner a second time,
and brought before his old master Heraclius, who then
resided at Antioch. He told the emperor, that he had
only pretended to embrace Mahometanism, in order to
be able to do his imperial majesty the more essential ser¬
vice ; and so far gained upon him, that he was soon af¬
ter appointed governor of that city ; the consequence of
which was, that the Arabs were put in possession of it
by his treachery. 87
The emperor being quite disheartened at his conti-Attemp ®
nual bad success, it was suggested to him by the king a‘ssassl11 e
of Ghassan, who had fled to him for refuge, as we
have already observed, that, however desperate his af¬
fairs might be, they would be perfectly restored by the
assassination of the caliph. This piece ol service he
undertook to perform for the emperor; and despatched
one Wathek Ebn Mosafer, an Arab of his tribe, and a
resolute young man, to Medina tor that purpose. Wa¬
thek, some time after his arrival there, having observed
the caliph to fall asleep under a tree, on which he had
placed himself so as not to be observed by any one, drew
his dagger, and was upon the point of stabbing him ;
but, as the Arab writers tell us, he was deterred by a
lion, who walked round the caliph, and licked his feet
till he awoke, after which he instantly went away. This
struck Wathek with a profound reverence for Omar;
he came down from bis tree where he had been confin¬
ed bv the lion, confessed his design, and embraced the
Mahometan religion. S8
Soon after the reduction of Antioch, Abu Obeidah TheGA
sent defeat*
[ 5°6 ]
AHA [ 507 ] AHA
Arabia, sent an account of his success to Omar j and receiving
.—an order to invade the mountainous parts of Syria, he
asked his general officers which of them would com¬
mand the body of troops destined for this purpose.
One Meisarah Ebn Mesrouk having ofi’ered his service,
the general gave him a black standard, with the fol¬
lowing inscription upon it in white letters : “ There
is but one God $ Mahomet is the Apostle of God.”
The body assigned him for this purpose consisted of
300 Arabs, and 1000 black slaves commanded by
Dames. Meisarah, at the head of his troops, with
some difficulty ascended the mountains, and, with
much more, advanced to that part where the emperor’s
forces were posted. The cold was so intense on the
summits of those mountains, that the Arabs, who had
been accustomed to a warm climate, could hardly bear
it. For some time they could not meet with a single
person to give them intelligence of the enemy’s mo¬
tions j but at last they took a Greek prisoner, who in¬
formed them, that the imperial army, which consisted
of 30,000 men, lay encamped on a spot not three
leagues distant. The prisoner refusing to profess Ma¬
hometanism, they cut off his head, and then marched
towards the imperial camp. The Greeks, hearing of
their approach, advanced to meet them ; and the Mos¬
lems being surrounded on all sides, were on the point
of being all cut off’, when Khaled appeared at the head
of 3000 horse, and after him Ayab Ebn Ganem with
2000 more. At the approach of the horse under the
command of the terrible Khaled, the Greeks retired,
leaving all their tents, together with their rich furni¬
ture and effects, to the Arabs. In this engagement,
one of Omar’s chief favourites, named Abdalla Ebn
Hodasa, was taken prisoner, and sent directly to Con¬
stantinople. The caliph was so much concerned at
this, that he sent a letter to Heraclius, desiring his re¬
lease ; which the emperor not only complied with, but
made him many valuable presents, sending at the same
time a jewel of immense value as a present to the ca-
Omar^s dis-liph. This Omar offered to the jewellers of Medina,
interested- but they were ignorant of its value : the Moslems there-
ness. fore begged him to keep it for his own use •, but this he
said he could not be answerable for to the public. It
was therefore sold, and the money deposited in the pub¬
lic treasury.
About this time also Khaled advanced with a body
of troops as far as the Euphrates, and took Manbij,
Beraa, Bales or Balls ; exacting of the inhabitants
100,000 dinars for their present security, and imposing
on them an annual tribute for the future. He also
made himself master of Raaban, Dulouc, Korus, the
Cyrus or Cyrrhus of the ancients, and several other
fortified towns, nothing being now able to stand before
him. Amru Ebn A1 As now likewise prepared for
the reducing some places in Palestine that still held out.
While he remained in this province, he had a conference
with Constantine the emperor’s son, who endeavoured
to persuade him to make peace with the Christians j
but this he not agreeing to, unless they would consent
to pav tribute, all hopes of an accommodation vanish¬
ed, and the generals on both sides prepared to enter
upon action. In the mean time an officer came from
the Christian camp, dressed in very rich apparel, who
challenged the stoutest man among the Moslems to fight
him in single combat. The challenge was accepted
by a young Arab officer of Yaman ; who being ani- Arabia.
mated by a notion, derived from the prophet himself,' '
that “ the spirits of the martyrs rest in the crops of
green birds, that eat of the fruits and drink of the ri¬
vers of paradise,” discovered an uncommon eagerness
to encounter his enemy. But the Christian officer not
only killed this youth, but two or three more of the
Moslems who came to his assistance. He was then at¬
tacked by Serjabil Ebn Hosanah, one of the generals,
but a man so weakened by fasting, that he could scarce
stand before him, and would therefore have been un¬
doubtedly killed, had not a Greek horseman very op¬
portunely interposed, and with one blow of his sci¬
mitar cut off the Christian’s head. Serjabil, gx-eatly
surprised at this deliverance, asked the horseman who
he was, and from whence he came j to which he replied ^
in the following terms: “I am the unfortunate To-Account of
leiha Ebn Khowaid, who set up for a prophet, and, ly- Toleiha the
ing against God, pretended to inspiration.” In con- f*lse Pro*
sequence of having saved his life, Serjabil introducedp
him to Amru ; and writing a letter to Omar, wherein
he acquainted him with the signal proof Toleiha had
given of his repentance, he obtained his pardon from
the caliph.
Though the two armies did not come to a general en¬
gagement, yet they had frequent skirmishes, in which
the Arabs always got the better, and in some the Greeks
suffered very considerably. This, together with the se¬
verity of the season, which was then uncommonly cold,
so dejected the soldiery, that they began to desert in
great numbers. Constantine, therefore, finding his troops
to diminish daily, and the Arabs to grow stronger and
stronger, took the advantage of a tempestuous night to
escape to Caesarea, which Yefcid had not been able to
take, leaving his camp to be plundered by the enemy.
This city was soon after invested by Amru j and at the
same time, Youkinna having made himself master of
Tripoli by treachery, seized 50 ships from Cyprus and
Crete, which carried a supply of arms and provisions
for the emperor’s troops, and had entered the ^ort with¬
out knowing that the Arabs were masters of the town.
With these ships he undertook an expedition against
Tyre •, and telling the inhabitants that he brought a
supply of arms and provisions for Constantine’s army,
he was admitted into the town, and received with great 5,
kindness. Here, however, he had not been long before Youkinna
he was discovered by one of his own soldiers, and put taken pri-
under arrest, with 900 of his men. He was, however,soner-
set at liberty by those to whose care he was committed j
and then opened the gates of the town to Yezid, by
whom it had been invested. Constantine having got in- Tyre and
telligence at Caesarea of the loss of Tripoli and Tyre, Caesarea re-
was so disheartened, that he set sail from that city withdueed-
all his family and the greatest part of his wealth j and
the citizens then thought proper to make the best terms
they could with Amru. The surrender of this city was
followed by that of all the other cities and fortresses in
the province j and thus the Arabs drove the Greeks
out of the whole country of Syria extending from the
Mediterranean to the Euphrates. This conquest was
completed in the 18th year of the Hegira, six years
after it had been undertaken. __ 93
This year there happened such violent storms of hail Violent
in the peninsula of the Arabs, that a considerable extfcntpia^e’
of territory was laid wraste by them, and a great num-^.c>
3 S 2 lei
Arabia.
94
Egypt re¬
duced ;
AHA [ 5°8
ber of animals of various kinds destroyed. An epide¬
mical distemper likewise raged at Medina, which spread
itself all over the neighbouring territory, and swept
away great numbers ot people. Syria was also visited
by a dreadful plague j so that the Moslems lost there
25,000 men, among whom were Abu Obeidah himself,
Yezid Ebn Abu Sofian, and many other persons of
distinction. In short, so great was the mortality occa¬
sioned by the plague, both in Arabia and Syria, that
the Arabs style the 18th year of the Hegira iheyear of
destruction.
Amru Ebn A1 As, having now executed the caliph’s
orders in Syria, set out on his expedition against Egypt.
His first attempt was on Tarma, a town situated on the
isthmus of Suez. This he reduced after a month’s
siege ; and having narrowly viewed its situation, he
formed a design of cutting through the isthmus, and
thus joining the Mediterranean and Red sea : but this
project was not well relished by the caliph, who appre¬
hended that it would facilitate the entrance of the
Christians into the peninsula of Arabia. From Tarma
he marched to Mesr, the Memphis of the ancient geo¬
graphers ; which, after a siege of seven months, was
delivered up to him by the treachery of A1 Mokawkas
the governor. From Mesr he continued his march to¬
wards Alexandria, and having defeated the emperor’s
army, closely invested that city. While his army lay
before this capital, Amru himself had the misfortune to
be taken prisoner and carried into the town. Being
brought before the governor, he asked him why he
committed such ravages and depredations in the Chri¬
stian territories ? To this Amru resolutely answered,
“ We are come hither to oblige you either to profess
Mahometanism, or pay an annual tribute to the ca¬
liph ; to one of which conditions you must submit, or be
all of you put to the sword.” A Greek who stood by
bearing this, told the governor that Amru was cer¬
tainly the Moslem general, and therefore desired him
to cut off his head. Upon this Werdan, one of Am-
ru’s slaves, perceiving the extreme danger his master
was in, gave him a box on the ear, exclaiming against
bis impudence for talking in such a manner. The go¬
vernor being imposed upon by this shallow artifice,
not only saved his life, but to show his generosity, dis¬
missed him without ransom. This was soon followed by
the loss of Alexandria, and that by the conquest of the
whole kingdom : after which, Amru despatched Okba
Ebn Nara with a body of troops to penetrate farther
into Africa ; and that general made himself master of
with Barca all the country lying between Barca and Zoweilah, re-
and Tripo- ducing under his dominion also that part of the conti-
nent which now forms the piratical kingdom of Tripoli
in Barbary.
Soon after the Moslems had made themselves masters
of Alexandria, a grievous famine raged in Arabia, par-
ticularlv. at Medina, then the residence of the caliph.
Th is obliged Omar to write to Amru to send him a
supply of corn, with which Egypt at that time abound¬
ed. In compliance with this order, Amru sent a train
of camels laden with corn, in a continued line from
Egypt to Medina ; the first of which were entering
Medina when the last were leaving Alexandria. But
this method of conveying corn proving too tedious
and expensive, he ordered him to clear the Amnis
Trajanus of Ptolemy, now the Khalis, which runs from
I
1
A R A
95
together
Arabia
96
one end of Cairo to the other, of the sand and gravel
with which it was choked. This he accordingly did,
and by that means rendered the communication betw'een
Egypt and Arabia much more easy than it had formerly
been.
While the Arabs thus extended their conquests inThe^Pen
the west, they were no less successful in the east. Weans defet
have already taken notice of Khaled’s having been sent*-’^*
into Irak to reduce the kingdom of Hira, and of his be¬
ing recalled to assist in the conquest of Syria. As the
kings of Hira were under the protection of the Persian
monarchs, the destruction of that kingdom necessarily
brought on a war with the Persians. After the depar¬
ture of Khaled, the command of the forces was left
with Abu Obeid Ebn Masud, together with A1 Mo-
thanna Ebn Haretha, Amru Ebn Hasem, and Salit Ebn
Kis. Abu Obeid having passed a river contrary to the
advice of the other generals, was killed, and his troops
in great danger j however, A1 Mothanna made an ex¬
cellent retreat, and repassed the river without any con¬
siderable loss. After this he fortified himself in his camp
till he received a considerable reinforcement from the
caliph $ when the Moslem army marched to Dir Hind,
and thence continued to make frequent excursions, ra¬
vaging that part of Irak that lay next to the Euphrates.
A body of 12,000 chosen horse was now despatched
against those invaders, under the command of one Mah-
ran. At first the Persians had the advantage, and obli¬
ged the Arabs to retire 5 but they were soon brought
back by A1 Mothanna, and the battle lasted from noon
till sunset. At last A1 Mothanna* engaging Mahran in
single combat, laid him dead at his feet j upon which
the Persians fled to A1 Madayen, a town situated on the
Tigris, about a day’s journey from Bagdad. After this
a powerful army was despatched by the Persians under
the command of one Rustam : but he also was killed, and
his troops were entirely dispersed. At the same time,
Abu Musa, another Moslem general, defeated a formi¬
dable body of troops under the command of A1 Harza-
raan, a noble Persian, at Ahwaz.
Not content with those victories, soon after the re¬
duction of Damascus, the caliph despatched Saad Ebn
Abu Wakkas, to dislodge the Persians from some di¬
stricts they possessed in the neighbourhood of the Eu¬
phrates. Saad having drawn together a body of l2,oco
men, advanced to Kadesia, a city bordering upon the
deserts of Irak; where, having utterly defeated an ar¬
my of 120,000 Persians, he made himself master of the
opulent city of A1 Madayen, and possessed himselfincreJp
ot Yezdejerd’s treasury, which was so rich, if we may treasure
believe the Arabian writers, that Saad took out of ittakenfr
three thousand millions of dinars, amounting to twQtliera‘
thousand and twenty-five millions of pounds sterling j
an enormous and almost incredible sum. From thence
Saad went to that part of the palace where the king’s
plate was deposited, which he carried off, as tveil as an
immense quantity of camphire with which another part
of the palace was entirely filled. This last the Arabs
seemed to have carried off merely for the sake of plun¬
dering, as they were so much unacquainted with the
nature of it, that they mixed it with their bread, which
gave it a bitter and disagreeable taste. Afterwards the
Arab general carried off the crown and royal garments,
adorned with gold and jewels of-inestimable value.
He also plundered his armoury, which was well stored
with
A R A [ 509 ] A R A
Arabia, with all sorts of weapons $ after which he caused the
y--1 1 roof of his porch to be opened, where he found ano¬
ther treasure, equal in value to ten millions of crowns.
He also found among the furniture of the palace a
piece of silk tapestry, 60 cubits square, which was
adorned with a great variety of beautiful flowers, herbs,
and plants, formed of gold, silver, and jewels, the most
valuable that could be procured. This being brought
to Omar, he cut it in pieces, and distributed it among
the Moslems : and that part which fell to A'.i’s share,
and which was yet none of the best, he sold for 20,000
crowns.
fesopota- In the 20th or 2ist year of the Hegira, the Arabs,
iaredu- gjIJJ unsated with conquest, invaded Mesopotamia under
Aiyad Ebn Ganem, where the city of Edessa submit¬
ted on the first summons. From Edessa he marched
to Constantia, or Constantina, supposed to be the Ni-
cephorium of the ancients. This he took by storm, as
likewise Daras, where he massacred all the people he
found in the place j and these repeated successes so ter¬
rified the rest of the fortified towns, that they all sub¬
mitted without resistance. At the same time A1 Mog-
heirah Ebn Shaabah, one of the caliph’s commanders,
made himself master of Shiz, a place famous for the
birth of Zerdusht the Persian philosopher, and overran
the whole province of Aderbijan. He also possessed
himself of all the country of Armenia bordering on
Mount Taurus ; nay, he in a manner obliged the whole
region to own the authority of the caliph, and pene¬
trated into Cappadocia. The same year also Saad made
himself master of Ahwas, the capital ol Khuzestan (the
ancient Susiana) $ in consequence of which he became
master of the greatest part, if not the whole, of that pro-
99 vince; at the same time that A1 Nooman conquered the
)mar mur-greatest part of Khorasan. But while Omar’s troops
iere<1, were thus irresistibly overrunning the finest countries in
the known world, a period was put to his conquests and
his life by a Persian named Abu Lulua, who stabbed
him thrice in the belly while he was performing his
devotions at Medina. The reason of this was, because
the caliph refused to remit him some part of the tribute
which, according to the Mahometan custom, he w'as
obliged to pay for the free exercise of his religion. The
Arabs, perceiving that he had killed their sovereign,
immediately rushed upon him 5 but the assassin defend¬
ed himself so desperately, that he killed seven of them
and wounded thirteen: but at last one of the ca¬
liph’s attendants threw his vest over him, and seized
him j upon which he stabbed himself, and soon after
expired.
Omar having languished three days after the wounds
100 given him by the Persian, expired in the 10th, nth, or
Succeeded j 2th year of his reign, and after his death Othman Ebn
-yOthman’..Assan was chosen $ though All had a better title, and
seems indisputably to have been the most virtuous, if not
the only virtuous person, as well as the bravest warrior,
among them. He was inaugurated in the 24th year of
the Hegira, nearly coincident with the year of our Lord
645-
Othman was no sooner settled on the throne, than
he commanded A1 Mogheirah to complete the conquest
of the territory of Hamadan $ which he easily accom¬
plished, and at the same time reduced Bira, a strong
castle in Mesopotamia, which either had never sub¬
mitted, or had revolted on the departure of the Mos¬
lem troops out of that province. Another army, under Aiatiia.
Abdallah Ebn Amar, was also despatched into Persia —v'—'
to deprive Yezdejerd of the poor remains of his domi¬
nions ; and this was done so effectually, that the unhap¬
py monarch was obliged to fly to Sijestan and abandon
Persia altogether.
In the 27th year of the Hegira, the island of Cy¬
prus was reduced by Moawiyah ; who soon alter con¬
quered the island of Aradus, and took Ancyra j after
which he reduced the island of Rhodes, broke in pieces joi
the famous Colossus, and sold the metal of it to a Jew Colossus of
of Edessa. In the mean time another of the Arab com- Abodes de-
manders entered Isauria, where he committed dreadful '
depredations, plundering many towns and villages, put¬
ting a great number of people to the sword, and carry¬
ing oft’ 5000 prisoners. In the 31st year of the Hegira,
one Habib having made an irruption into that part
of Armenia, which was still unconquered, defeated a
body of the emperor’s troops, pursuing them as far'
as Mount Caucasus, and laying waste all the neigh¬
bouring territory. About the same time also, Abul
Abar, who had been constituted admiral by Moawiyah,
gave the emperor Constans a signal defeat by sea, on
the coast of Lycia, in which such a number of Chri¬
stians were killed, that the neighbouring sea was dyed
with their blood. 102
But while Othman was thus carrying every thing ir- Insurrec-
resistibly before him abroad, he neglected to secure l^sg^j]je
the affections of his subjects at home, which soon prov- caijpi,.
ed his ruin. Sedition was industriously propagated
through all the provinces of the empire, and articles of
accusation brought against the caliph. The chief of
these were, That he had recalled one who had been ba¬
nished by the prophet •, that he had removed Saad, an
officer of distinguished bravery, and supplied his place
by one who drank wine, and was otherwise of a scan¬
dalous life *, that he had squandered away vast sums
among bis favourites 5 that he had removed Amru from
the government of Egypt, to which he had preferred
his own foster brother j and, lastly, that he had pre¬
sumed to sit on the top of Mahomet’s pulpit, whereas
Abu Beer had always sat on the highest step and Omar
on the lowest. To this formidable accusation the poor
caliph pleaded guilty, and promised to make all the re¬
paration in his power $ but his condescension only ser¬
ved to increase the insolence of the rebels. 'I hey were
however appeased by Ali; and public tranquillity bad
undoubtedly been restored, had it not been for Ayesha,
one of Mahomet’s widows, who procured the destruc¬
tion of the caliph by a scheme truly worthy of the wife
of such a husband. That traitress, being desirous of
raising one of her favourites named Telha to the digni¬
ty of caliph, prevailed on Merwan the secretary of state
to write a letter to the prefect of Egypt, enjoining him
to put to death Mahomet Ebn Abu Beer, with whom
it was sent, and who was to be his successor. 1 his
letter Merwan took care should be discovered: and Ma¬
homet taking it for a genuine order of the caliph, pub¬
lished the supposed injury all over the neighbouring
countries. He then marched with a body of rebels to
Medina, where the innocent caliph was besieged in his
palace 5 and, notwithstanding all his protestations, no¬
thing less than his death could satisfy the enraged mul¬
titude. In this deplorable situation Othman sent to
Ali for assistance } who commanded his two sons Hasan
A R A [ 5
Arabia, and Hosein to defend the palace gates. This they did
' 1 v— 1 for some time with fidelity enough, till finding the
caliph reduced to great straits for want of water, they
abandoned their posts ; upon which the rebels easily
103 made themselves masters of the palace, and cruelly
He is mur- murdered the caliph, in the Sid year of his age, after
icred. j)e |iai} reigned 12 years. His body remained three
days unburied } and was at last thrown into a hole made
for it, without the usual ablution, or the least funeral
solemnity.
The arms of the Moslems had hitherto been so suc¬
cessful, and their conquests so rapid, that they may
seem not only to have vied with Alexander, but to have
bid fairer for universal monarchy than any nation ei¬
ther before or since.—The ruin of mighty empires al¬
ways originates from the impossibility of keeping them
united. Divisions arise j civil wars break out; and
the kingdom being weakened by these intestine feuds,
the common enemies take advantage of them to ruin the
whole fabric. If we consider Mahomet, as in truth
lie was, not as an enthusiast, hut as a politician and
the founder of an empire j we shall find him in that
capacity superior perhaps to any that ever existed.
The empire of Alexander the Great, which arose with
still more rapidity than that of the Arabs, had no sup¬
port but from his own ambition and personal qualifi¬
cations. While he lived, he was without a rival, be¬
cause all were afraid of him j but when he died, the
bands of union, whereby his empire had been held to¬
gether, were immediately dissolved. His captains were
not insph-ed with the same veneration for his son, who
was unborn at the time of his death, that they had for
his father ; and therefore they sought not to conquer
for him, but for themselves $ and the consequence was
that the kingdom fell to pieces the moment that he
died. The same thing happened to the empires of
Jenghis Khan, Tamerlane, and others, who made vast
conquests in a short time. They erected mighty em¬
pires indeed j but their duration, we may say, was but
momentary. The empire of the Romans was founded
on a kind of enthusiastic desire of aggrandizing the city
of Rome : patriotism became fashionable ; and as the
city never ceased to exist, those who conquered always
had the same end in view, namely, to exalt the republic
more and more. This empire, therefore, was not only
very extensive, but very durable; though as it was
impossible that mankind could always continue to ve¬
nerate a city, the same divisions that ruined other em¬
pires at last brought this to an end. The foundation of
Mahomet’s empire seemed to be still more firm. He
was not only the king, but, we may say, the god of
his people. Whatever enthusiasm people may show in
defending their country, nay even their nearest rela¬
tions, experience has taught us that it is greatly infe¬
rior to what is shown by those who fight in defence of
religion. This enthusiasm Mahomet had taken care
not only to bring over to his side, but to exalt to its
highest pitch, by inculcating upon his followers, that
oeir rewards in the next world should be proportion-
able to the fury with which they fought in this. To
live at peace, except with those who submitted to his
wi 11, did not at all enter into his plan ; and he who
made no conquests, or at least did not strive to make
them, was no true believer. By this means, let his
empire be ever so much extended, the temptation to
10 ] A R A
making fresh conquests was still equally strong; and Arab!
not only the commanders of armies, but every private
person, had the most powerful motives to urge him to- , I04
wards the conquest of the whole world, had that been
possible. The only thing Mahomet seems to have fail-0f the f
ed in was, the appointment of the succession to thelemeni ;
apostleship ; and why he was deficient in this is incon¬
ceivable. From this one source proceeded the divisions
which ruined his empire when it was scarce erected,
and of which we are now to give the history.
Though the prophet had been so deficient in provid¬
ing for the safety of his kingdom as not to name a suc¬
cessor at his death ; yet his son-in-law Ali was always
of opinion that the succession belonged of right to him;
and that it ought to be, like that of other kingdoms,
hereditary. This disposition to render the apostleship
hereditary in the family, was, in all probability, what
disgusted the Moslems with Ali: against whom they
could otherwise have no objection ; for he was endowed charac
with every amiable quality ; a firm believer in Maho-of Ali.
met; and of such unparalleled strength and courage,
that he never declined a combat to which he was chal¬
lenged, nor ever failed to come off victorious ; for
which reason he was styled hy his countrymen, “ the
lion of God.”
On the death of Othman, however, notwithstanding
the prejudices against Ali, as none could pretend so I0(5
good aright to the caliphate as he, the Arabs imme-Hei*c
diately took the oath of allegiance to him, though with *en calk
an intention to break it as soon as possible, as was fully
evinced by the event. The disturbances which hap¬
pened immediately on Ali’s succession were owing part¬
ly to the machinations of Ayesha, 'who having got
Othman murdered on purpose to raise Telha to the dig¬
nity of caliph, and now finding Ali unanimously cho¬
sen, resolved to destroy him also. She therefore pre¬
tended great concern for the death of the late caliph,
and accused Ali of being his mui’derer ; but being re¬
proved by one of the Moslems for endeavouring to
blacken an innocent person, when she could not but
know herself guilty; she replied, that Othman’s infi¬
delity had indeed made her his enemy, but that she had
forgiven him upon his repentance. At the time of Ali’s
inauguration she was at Mecca, where she enjoyed a
very considerable share of influence and authority. At
her instigation, Telha Ebn Obeidallah, and Zobeir Ebn .
A1 Awam, began to represent to Ali, that the murdtr-ces rais
ers of Othman ought to be brought to condign punish-by Ayes»
ment: offering themselves at the same time for that pur¬
pose. This they did purely to sow dissension, for thev
themselves had been deeply concerned in the murder :
and Ali, sufficiently aware of their intention, told them
it was impossible till the empire should be more settled.
Finding themselves disappointed in this attempt, they
next begged the government of Cufa and Basra, that
they might with the greater facility extinguish any re¬
bellion that should happen. Here again Ali was aware
of their intention ; and refused their request, under pre¬
tence that he stood in need of persons of their great ca¬
pacity, as counsellors, about his person. Then they de¬
sired leave to perform a pilgrimage to Mecca, which
the caliph could not refuse ; and they were no sooner
got there, than they set about raising an army against
him without any provocation at all.
This, however, was not the only source of discord
at
A R A [ 511 ] A R A
Irabia.
108
ii Moa'
iyah.
icp
li raises
1 army.
110
le defeats
tnd takes
iytsha pri
wner.
at present. All had been displeased with the governors
of provinces appointed by Othman ; and therefore dis¬
missed them immediately upon his accession. This was
very impolitic ; but he was prompted to do it by that
rashness and want of prudence which is inseparable from,
or rather is the very essence of, great courage. The
consequence of this was, that Moawiyah, governor of
Syria, was, immediately upon his dismission by Ali,
proclaimed caliph by the troops under his command.
Thus the Moslems were divided into two factions $ the
one under Moawiyah and Ayesha, who adhered to the
house of Ommiyah, to which Othman and Moawiyah
belonged ; and the other to Ali. The adherents of the
house of Ommiyah were called Motaxalites, or separa¬
tists.
Ali, finding how matters were situated, and that a
very strong party was formed against him, endeavoured
to ingratiate himself as much as possible with the Ko-
reish ; and to raise an army against Ayesha, who had
now taken the field, and even reduced the city of Basra.
He made a formal speech to the people on hearing this
bad news, and desired their assistance. But though he
was very much beloved on account of his personal me¬
rit, and the best orator of the age, he could not with
all his eloquence for some time prevail on them to give
a decisive answer in his favour. At last Ziyad Ebn
Hantelah stept to Ali of his own accord, and said,
“ Whosever retreats, we will advance.” Upon this
two Ansars, doctors of the law, stood up, and pro¬
nounced Ali innocent of the death of Othman ; which
decision soon induced the Ansars and the body of the
people to espouse his quarrel. He then left Medina
with a body of 900 men, and advanced to Arrabah,
where he was joined by several other parties. From
this place he wrote to the people of Cufa and Medina,
pressing them to send him farther assistance, and to dis¬
pose the Motazalites to an accommodation. From
Medina he very soon obtained a large supply of horses,
arms, and other necessaries ; and from Cufa he obtained
with difficulty a reinforcement of 8000 men.
Being greatly animated by this seasonable supply,
Ali advanced towards Basra, where the troops of A-
yesha were ready to receive him. Both parties seemed
averse to an engagement 5 and Ayesha began to be very
much intimidated at the sight of All’s army, which,
however, was inferior to her own : but, by some means
or other, a battle was at last brought about, in which
Ayesha was defeated and taken prisoner. The only
remarkable eft’ort that was made by the troops of Aye¬
sha in this engagement, was in defence of her person.
It is said, that no fewer than 70 men who held her
camel by the bridle, had their hands cut oil successive¬
ly •, and that the pavilion in which she sat was so full ol
darts and arrows, that it resembled a porcupine. Aye¬
sha was treated very kindly by Ali, who at first set her
at liberty, but afterwards confined her to her house at
Medina, and commanded her to interfere no more with
state affairs, though he still allowed her to perform the
pilgrimage to Mecca.
After this victory, Ali had no enemies to contend
with either in Arabia, Irak, Egypt, Persia, or Khora-
san. A strong party, however, still remained in Sy¬
ria, headed by Moawiyah, who founded his claims to
the caliphate on a pretended declaration of Othman that
he should be his successor. In this defection he was
joined by Amru Ebn A1 As, who had obtained a pro- Arabia,
mise of the government of Egypt, provided Moawiyah v—■■ 11
could be advanced to the dignity of caliph.
Ali, with his usual good nature, endeavoured to bring
the rebels to a sense of their duty, and often sent pro¬
posals of accommodation to Mo twiyah *, but he still re¬
mained inflexible. Perceiving therefore, that it would
be necessary to invade Syria, he entered that country
with an army of 70,000 men, while Moawiyah ad¬
vanced to meet him with 80,000 ; and by repeated re¬
inforcements All’s army at last amounted to 90,000
and Moawiyah’s to 120,000. The two armies came
in sight of each other towards the close of the 36th
year of the Hegira, when they seemed ready to en¬
ter upon action ; but only some skirmishes happened
between them, wherein neither party sustained any con¬
siderable loss. The first month of the 37th year was
spent in fruitless negotiations ; but in the second month
they began to fight in different parties, without ever
hazarding a general engagement. These battles con¬
tinued, according to some, for 40 days, and accord¬
ing to others, 110. Moawiyah’s loss amounted to
45,000 men, and All’s to 2C,000, among whom were
26 who had been intimately acquainted with Mahomet
himself, and were dignified with the title of The Com¬
panions. The most famous of these was Ammar Ebn
Yasar, All’s general of horse, who was upwards of 90
years of age, and was highly esteemed by both parties.
The loss of this general so exasperated Ali, that he ^
charged the Syrians with a body of 12,000 men, Moawiyah
broke them, and challenged Moawiyah to fight him challenged
in single combat. This challenge Moawiyah declined, to a single
insisting that it was not a fair one, as Ali could not^°,fn')at ! y
but be sensible of his superiority in strength. As the
challenge was given in the hearing of both armies,
Amru insisted that Moawiyah could not in honour re¬
fuse it; but the coward made no other reply than that
Amru aspired to the caliphate himself, and wanted to
enjoy it after his death. The battle being now renew¬
ed with great fury, Moawiyah’s forces were pushed to
their camp j which had certainly been taken, had not II1
Amru bethought himself of the following stratagem Amru’s
to retrieve Moawiyah’s affairs, when he seemed on the stratagem,
very brink of destruction. He ordered some of his
men to fix copies of the Koran to the points of their
lances, and carry them to the front of tbe battle, cry¬
ing out at the tame time, “ This is the book that
ought to decide all differences between us ; this is the
book of God between us and you, that absolutely pro¬
hibits the effusion of Moslem blood.” This produced
the desired efftct. The caliph’s troops threw down
their arms, and even threatened him with death if he
did not sound a retreat ; which he therefore found him¬
self obliged to do, and thus had a decisive victory wrest¬
ed out of his hands.
According to this new mode of decision, the two par¬
ties were each to choose their arbitrator j but even this
was not allowed to Ali, though Moawiyah had liberty
to choose Amru Ebn A1 As. The troops of Irak, not
content with offering so gross an affront to the caliph,
insisted on naming for his arbitrator Abu Musa Al
Ashavi; a very weak man, and one who had already
betrayed him. The consequence of this appointment
wTas, that Ali was deposed by both arbitrators j an(l Ali depo-
he accordingly droot; his title to the caliphate, butsc4
without
A R A
[ S
Arabia.
without laying clown his arms, or putting himself in
Moavviyah’s power.
After this decision, Ali retired to Cufa; where he
was no sooner arrived, than 12,ooo of those troops
who had themselves forced him to accept of the arbi¬
tration, pretending to be offended with the.step he had
taken, revolted from him. These were called Khare-
jites, that is, rebels or revolters : and Mohakkemites,
or judiciarians, because they affirmed that Ali had re¬
ferred to the judgment of men what ought to have
been only referred to the judgment of God 5 and,
therefore, that instead of keeping the peace he had
made with Moawiyah, he ought to pursue his enemies,
who were likewise the enemies of God, without mercy.
To this Ali replied, That as he had given his word, he
ought to keep it; and, in so doing, he only followed
what was prescribed by the law of God. The Kha-
rejites replied, That God was the only judge between
him and Moawiyah, and that consequently he had
committed an enormous sin, of which he ought sincere¬
ly to repent. This irritating Ali, he with some warmth
replied, That if any sin had been committed on this
occasion, it was by themselves, who had forced him
to take the steps of which they now complained. This
answer not proving agreeable, they chose for their ge¬
neral Abdallah Ebn Waheb, who appointed for their
rendezvous Naharwan, a town situated between Waset
jand Bagdad, about four miles to the eastward-of the
Tigris. Here they assembled an army of 25,000 men ;
and Ali, having tried gentle methods ineffectually, at
last marched against them in person. Before he attack¬
ed them, however, he planted a standard without the
camp, and made proclamation by sound of trumpet, that
114 whoever should repair to it should have quarter, and
(b;feat5 whoever would retire to Cufa should find a sanctuary
tie are’there. This had such jin effect, that Abdallah’s army
was soon reduced to 4000 men, with whom he rushed
upon the caliph’s forces ; but all of them wei'e cut in
pieces, except nine who escaped.
Had Ali marched against Moawiyah immediately af¬
ter the defeat of the Kharejites, and while his troops
were flushed with victory, he had probably reduced him
entirely : but by allowing his troops to refresh them¬
selves, they all deserted him, and Moawiyah’s party
had an opportunity of gathering still more strength ;
-and though Moawiyah’s troops often made incursions
into the territories of Ali, the latter seems afterwards
Arabig,
jites.
1*5
They at-
v t0A.. to have acted only on the defensive. At last the Kha-
Amru, and reJltes5 imagining that it would be for the good of the
Aii assassi
ziated.
Moawiyah. Moslem affairs, that Moawiyah, Ali, and Amru, were
dead, despatched assassins to murder all the three. Moa¬
wiyah was wounded, but recovered ; Amru’s secretary
was killed by mistake ; but Ali was wounded with a
poisoned sword, which occasioned his death. The as¬
sassin w'as taken, and Ali would have pardoned him had
he recovered, but ordered him to be put to death if he
died, that he might, as he said, “ have an immediate
opportunity of accusing him before God.” Even in
this order he shewed his usual clemency, as he ordered
the assasin to be despatched at one blow, and without
torture of any kind.
Thus fell Ali, the most virtuous of all the Maho¬
metan caliphs, after he had reigned near five years,
and lived 63. He was pressed by those about him to
nominate a successor before he died; but this he de-
u7
12 ] A R A
dined, saying, he would follow the example of the
Apostle of God, w’ho had not named any: and, as his
son Hasan inherited his father’s piety, though not his
courage, he was declared caliph without any scruple,
Moawiyah, however, behaved in such a manner to¬
wards him, as showed his hostile intentions; and those
about Hasan pressed him to declare war immediately.
This Hasan, who was of an exceeding mild and peace¬
able disposition, could hardly be persuaded to do; and ng
though he at last took the field, yet he immediately per-whoresig
ceived his incapacity to dispute the empire with Moa-^1® cal‘-
wiyah ; and therefore resigned it, in spite of all the?Jate!0
remonstrances of his friends, to a traitor, who caused J
him after some years to be poisoned by his wdfe.
Moawiyah being thus left sole master of the Moslem
■empire, found himself under the necessity of reducing
the Kharejites, who were his enemies as well as Ali’s,
and had now gathered together a considerable army.
Against these rebels the caliph would have despatched
Hasan, but that prince refused ; upon which he sent
the Syrian troops against them, who were defeated :
however the Cufans, being at last persuaded to take up
arms, soon extinguished the rebellion, and settled Moa¬
wiyah more firmly than ever on the Moslem throne.
In the 48th year of the Hegira, the caliph sent his son llg
Yezid with a powerful army to besiege Constantinople. Constant
In this expedition he was attended by three or four ofB0plebc.j
the Companions^ who, notwithstanding their age, w’eresi^e^t
prompted by zeal to undergo incredible fatigues. The success>
Moslem forces too, though they suffered extremely, were
animated to surmount all difficulties by a tradition,
according to which the prophet in his lifetime declared,
“ That the sins of the first army that took the city of
Constantinople should be forgiven.” Concerning the
particulars of this expedition we are in the dark: only,
in general, that it proved unsuccessful; and in it Abu
Ayub, who had been with Mahomet at the battles of
Bedr and Ohod, lost his life. His tomb is held in such
veneration by the Moslems, that the sultans of the Ot¬
toman family gird their swords on at it on their acces¬
sion to the throne. In the 54th year of the Hegira,
the Arabs made an irruption into Bukharia, and de- I2Q
feated a Turkish army that opposed them. The Turks Turks de
lost a great number of men ; and the queen, who com-feale^
manded in person, with great difficulty made her escape.
She had only time to put on one of her buskins ; the
other fell into the hands of the Arabs, who valued it
at no less than 2000 dinars. About this time also,
according to the Greek historians, a treaty was con¬
cluded between the emperor and the Moslems, where¬
by the latter were allowed to keep the territories they
had seized ; in consideration of which they were to pay
3000 pounds weight of gold, 50 slaves, and as many
choice horses. To these dishonourable conditions they
were obliged to submit in consequence of their late
unsuccessful expedition to Constantinople, and some
other defeats they had received. This peace was to
continue for 30 years. The next year, Moawiyab,
having conferred the government of Khorasan upon
Saad, Othman’s grandson, that general, soon after his
promotion, passed the Jihun, or Amu, the Oxus of the
ancients, and advanced with a body of troops to Sa-
marcand, which opened its gates to him on his ap¬
proach ; soon after which he defeated an army of Us-
beck Tartars, and marched directly to Tarmud, or Tar-
mid,
Irabia.
m
cceeded
Ifezid.
T?3 .
osein and
idallah
fuse to
know-
Ige him.
A E A [s
mid, which also surrendered without opposition. The
57th year of the Hegira was remarkable for nothing
but vast swarms of locusts, which did incredible da¬
mage in Syria and Mesopotamia ; and great discontents
on account of the caliph’s having nominated for his
successor his son Yezid, a person of scandalous life, and
no way worthy of the throne. The 58th year of the
Hegira was rendered remarkable by the death of Aye-
sha, Mahomet’s widow j and the 60th by that of Moa-
wiyah, after having reigned, from Hasan’s resignation,
nineteen years, three months, and five days : but con¬
cerning his age authors are not agreed. He was in¬
terred at Damascus, which was made the residence of
the caliphs as long as the house of Ommiyah continued
on the throne.
Yezid was proclaimed, in consequence of his nomi¬
nation, the same day his father died. His inaugura¬
tion was performed on the new moon of the month Ila-
jeb, corresponding to April 7. 680. Immediately af¬
ter his election, he wrote to A1 Walid, governor of Me¬
dina, to seize Hosein, the remaining son of Ali, and
Abdallah Ebn Zobeir, in case they refused to acknow¬
ledge his right. He accordingly tendered the oath of
allegiance to Hosein, who returned an evasive answer,
and found means to escape to his own house. As for
Abdallah, he delayed waiting upon the governor, under
various pretences, for 24 hours ; after which he made
his escape to Mecca $ hither Hosein followed him} but
received an invitation from the people of Cufa, who
promised to assist him in vindicating the rights of his
father Ali and himself. In the mean time, Yezid, being
informed of A1 Walid’s negligence in suffering Abdal¬
lah and Hosein to escape, removed him from his em¬
ployment, appointing in his room Amru Ebn Saad, at
that time commandant of Mecca. The new governor
immediately despatched against Abdallah, Amer Ebn
Zobeir, Abdallah’s own brother, who mortally hated
him ; but Abdallah having engaged Amer in the field,
defeated and took him prisoner ; which greatly raised
his reputation at Medina, although Hosein’s superior
interest among them still rendered him incapable of
aspiring to the caliphate by himself.
While Abdallah was thus strengthening himself at
Mecca and Medina, Hosein was doing the same at Cufa.
On the first notice of their inclinations, he had sent to
them Moslem Ebn Okail, to whom, as representative
of the son of Ali, they had taken an oath of allegiance,
and were now very pressing on Hosein to honour their
city with his presence. Besides this, Hosein was sup¬
ported by the forces of Irak, who retained a great ve¬
neration for the memory of his father, and had all along
considered the government of Moawiyah as a downright
usurpation.
Notwithstanding all these steps taken at Cufa in
favour of Hosein, the deliberations of the conspirators
were carried on with such secrecy, that A1 Nooman,
the governor, continued a stranger to them, even after
the Cufans had determined immediately to enter upon
action with an army of 18,000 men. At last, how¬
ever, he began to be roused from his lethargy } but
Yezid being displeased with his conduct, removed him
from his government, appointing for his successor O-
beidallah Ebn Ziyad. This governor entered the city
in the evening, and was received with all possible de¬
monstrations of joy by the Cufans, who mistook him
Vol. II. Part II. t
13 ] AHA
for Hosein, owing to a black turban which he had on Arabia,
his head, resembling that which Hosein usually wore.t——\—-*
His first care was to extinguish the sedition that had
been excited by Moslem. In order to this, he com¬
manded a trusty servant to disguise himself, and perso¬
nate a stranger come out of Syria to see the inaugura¬
tion of Hesein : that he might get admission into Mos¬
lem’s house, and penetrate all his counsels. This com¬
mission was faithfully executed 5 and Qbeidallah under¬
standing that Moslem lodged in the house of one Sha-
rik, who was then sick, sent a messenger to Sharik,
letting him know that he intended to visit him on a
certain day. Sharik immediately came to a resolu¬
tion to receive him, and appointed Moslem ajlplace in
the corner of the room whence he might rush out upon
Obeidallah and kill him. The visit was according¬
ly made $ but Moslem’s heart failing him, the gover¬
nor escaped : Hani, however, in whose house Moslem
had first lodged, was imprisoned by Obeidallah. Up¬
on the news of this, Moslem assembled about 4000
men, and besieged Obeidallah in the castle. The go¬
vernor, however, not in the least dispirited, made a
speech to Moslem’s followers $ which had such an ef¬
fect upon them that they all deserted him except about
30. By the favour of the night, Moslem escaped to
a poor woman’s cottage in the neighbourhood 5 but
being betrayed by her son, Obeidallah sent a detach¬
ment of 80 horse to seize him. Moslem made a gal¬
lant resistance, and thrice cleared the house of them ;
but being at last overpowered with numbers, and grie¬
vously wounded, he was taken and brought to Cufa.
While on the road, he endeavoured to send an account
of his bad success to Hosein, then, as he supposed, on
the road to Cufa j but without success. When arrived
at the castle he begged a draught of water : but those
who stood by told him he should have none till he drank
the hamim, or boiling liquor, which the Mahometans
pretend is drunk by the damned in hell; and soon af¬
ter this, being brought before the governor, he was be¬
headed along with Hani, and both their heads sent as a
present to Yezid. I2J_
Hosein, in the mean time, was preparing to set out Hosein’s
for Cufa, having received the most favourable advices obstinacy,
from Moslem, of whose fate he was ignorant, and who
had sent him a list of 140,000 men that were ready to
ob«y his orders. This the wisest of his friends repre¬
sented as a desperate enterprise, and entreated him to
drop it, or at least to defer his journey till he should be
better assured of success : but Hosein was deaf to all
salutary counsel ; nay, he would not, by the most ear¬
nest entreaties, be prevailed upon to forbear taking his
wives and children along with him. The consequences
of this obstinacy may be easily imagined: Obeidallah
despatched first IOOO and then 5000 men against him;
with orders, however, not to offer any violence to him
provided he submitted himself. To these terms the
infatuated Hosein would not agree : he offered indeed
to return home, if Obeidallah would permit; but that J2 „
not being granted, he desperately engaged the troops He is de-
of Obeidallah, and was, after long resistance, cut in feated and
pieces with all his men. His head was brought toddled.
Obeidallah, who struck it over the mouth with a stick,
and treated it with great contempt. He was also in¬
clined to have put his family to death : but probably
feared an insurrection, as the people of Cufa expressed
3 T great
AKA [5
Arabia great resentment on account of Hosein’s death j nor
-v—was it at all agreeable to the caliph Yezid, who treated
the family of the unfortunate Hosein with the greatest
kindness. . ,
This year, the 6ist of the Hegira, Yezid appointed
Salem Ebn Ziyad governor of Khorasan; who, soon
after entering upon the government, made an irruption
into the Turkish territories. He took his wife along
with him in this expedition, who was delivered of a
child in the neighbourhood of Samarcand ; on which
occasion she is said to have borrowed some jewels fiom
the prince of Sogd’s lady, which she afterwards carried
off with her. In the mean time Salem detached Mo-
halleb with a considerable body of troops to Khowa-
razm, the principal city of the Turks or lartars in
those parts, from which he extorted the immense sum
of 50,000,000 pieces of money; from whence advan¬
cing to Samarcand, he forced the inhabitants of that
city also to pay him an immense sum j and then reti¬
red with little loss, into the province he governed.
In the mean time Abdallah Ebn Zobeir, finding
himself, by the death of Hosein, at the head of the
partizans of the house of Hashem, who were greatly
oppressed by Yezid, began in earnest to aspire to the
caliphate. As he had therefore never owned the autho¬
rity of Yezid, he now openly declared against him,
126 and was proclaimed caliph at Medina soon after the
Abdallah arrival of Hosein’s family in that place. Soon after his
inauguration, to render himself the more popular, he
'* 1 expatiated on the circumstances of Hosein’s death,
which indeed were very tragical, and represented the
Gufans as the most abandoned and perfidious villains
upon earth. This went so well down with the citi¬
zens of Mecca and Medina, that they flocked to him
in great numbers, so that he soon found himself at the
head of a considerable force. The caliph Yezid being
informed of his progress, swore he would have him in
chains ; and accordingly sent a silver collar for him to
Merwan, then governor of Medina : but the interest of
Abdallah was now so strong, that he laughed at the
menaces both of the caliph and Merwan. Nay, the
governor of Mecca, though he secretly hated him,
thought it good policy, as matters then stood, to keep
up a good understanding with Abdallah : but this co¬
ming to the ears of Yezid, he deposed the governor j
appointing in his place Walid Ebn Gtbah, a man of
known fidelity, and a bitter enemy of Abdallah. The
new governor, therefore, immediately on his accession,
used all his art and skill to circumvent Abdallah 5 but
to no purpose, as the latter was always on his guard.
This conduct, however, giving him great disgust, as
well as terrible apprehensions, he wrote to the caliph,
informing him that all the disturbances were owing to
the untractable disposition of Walid } and that, if he
would send a person of a different character, peace
would soon be restored. This letter, the caliph very
injudiciously gave ear to, and dismissed his faithful go¬
vernor, appointing in his room one who was totally un¬
qualified for that post. The people of Medina now
having fresh intelligence of Yezid’s dissolute manner of
fife, renounced their allegiance to him, and formally
deposed him in a very singular manner. After they
Yezid for- had assembled in the mosque, about the pulpit there,
mally cje- 0ne of them said, “ I lay aside Yezid as I do this tur-
ban,” and immediately threw his turban on the
3
4 ] AKA
ground. Another said, “ I put away Yezid as I do Arabia,
this shoe,” casting away his shoe at the same time, '■'"'w
These examples being followed by others, there was a
large heap of shoes and turbans almost instantly form¬
ed upon the spot. They then dismissed Yezid’s gover¬
nor, and banished from the city all the friends and de¬
pendants of the house of Ommiyah. These, to the num¬
ber of about 8000, took refuge in the house of Merwan
Ebn A1 Hakem, where they were so closely besieged
by Abdallah’s party, that they found themselves ob¬
liged to send to Yezid for immediate assistance ; ac¬
quainting him, that if they were not succoured, they
must all inevitably perish. The caliph, though he
wondered that such a number of men should suffer
themselves to be so cooped up without making the
least resistance, despatched Moslem Ebn Okba to Me¬
dina, with a considerable body of troops, to quell the
disturbances. He ordered him to spare Ali the son of
Hosein and his family, as they had no hand at all in
the disturbances: then he was to summon the town
of Medina to surrender for three days successively ;
which if they refused, he was to take it by storm, and
give it up to be plundered by the soldiers for three whole
days.
The inhabitants of Medina being now sensible of
their danger, suffered the friends of the house of Om¬
miyah to withdraw quietly out of the city $ though be¬
fore they departed, a promise was extorted from them
not to appear in arms against the reigning faction.
Moslem, in the mean time, advanced towards the city
at the head of 5000 foot and 12,000 horse 3 and having
summoned it according to his instructions, upon its i'e-
fusal made the necessary preparations for an attack.
The garrison, however, for a considerable time, made
a vigorous defence 3 but at last, most ot the Ansars
and principal officers being killed, the Arabs proposed Ij8
a capitulation. Moslem, however, would hearken to Medina
no terms, and insisted on their surrendering at discre-ken and
tion 3 which being refused, he entered the city after aPlu^re
faint resistance. Ali was treated with great respect 3 A
but all the men that had carried arms were put to theces.
sword, and Moslem suffered his troops to ravish 1000
women, and to pillage the city for three days succes¬
sively. Those that escaped the slaughter he forced to
acknowledge themselves the slaves and vassals of Yezid.
For .this extreme severity he was surnamed by the A-
rabs Al Musreif or The extravagant, and ever after
considered as an impious person, especially as the pro¬
phet had declared that the wrath of God should most
certainly remain upon those who sacked or plundered
the city of Medina.
After the reduction of Medina, Moslem directed his
course to Mecca, where Abdallah then resided 3 but he
died by the way, and the command of the troops de¬
volved upon Hosein Ebn Thamir Al Sehvi. This ge¬
neral advanced to Mecca, which he besieged for 40
days, battering the town with such fury, that he beat
down a great part of the famous temple there, and
burnt the rest 3 nor would the city itself have escaped
the same fate, had not an end been put to the war by
the arrival of certain accounts of the death of Yezid, up
who departed this life in the 64th year of the Hegira, Yezid d
answering to the year 684 of the Christian era, haying-
lived 39, and reigned three years and six or eight
months. On the news of his death, Hosein offered to
take
A R A [51
rabia- oa^ a^eg'ance Abdallah ; but the latter
Iv-—-1 at that time durst not trust him, of which he had
afterwards sufficient reason to repent.
l3? Yezid was succeeded by his son Moawiyah II. who
>awiyah was prociajme(l caliph at Damascus the same day that
Kd his father died ; but being of a weakly constitution,
iph, and and unable to bear the fatigues of government, resign-
igns. the crown six weeks after his inauguration, and died
soon after without naming a successor.
This abdication having left the Moslem empire ab¬
solutely without a master, great commotions ensued.
On the death of Yezid, Obeidallah Ebn Ziyad, go¬
vernor of Basra, represented to the citizens that they
ought to choose a protector till a new caliph should be
chosen j and if the person so chosen should be disagree¬
able to them, they might then remain in the state of in¬
dependency under the protector whom they had cho¬
sen. The inhabitants perceiving the drift of this
Speech, complimented him with that honour $ which
he accepted with seeming difficulty : but sending a
deputy to Cufa, the inhabitants of that city not only
refused to acknowledge his authority, but threw dust
and gravel at his messenger. This coming to the ears
t3i of the people of Basra, they not only deprived Obei-
icidallah dallah of the dignity they had newly conferred upon
?edt0 him, but even expelled him the city. Nor could he
1"toS7* prevail upon the Najari, a tribe of Ansars, to espouse
his quarrel, nor even upon his own relations, though
he distributed among them great part of the sixteen
millions of pieces of money which he had found in the
treasury of Basra, and kept the remainder to himself.
Kay, so odious had he rendered himself to all ranks,
on account of his cruelties, particularly the death of
Hosein the son of Ali, that his brother Abdallah was
unable to protect him from the fury of the populace,
though he kept him concealed in women’s clothes, and
distributed among the mob 200,000 pieces of money.
He was therefore at last constrained to leave the city,
attended by a guard of 100 men. Immediately after
his departure, the mob plundered his house, and pursu¬
ed him, so that he was obliged to exchange his camel
for an ass, and thus with the utmost difficulty escaped
into Syria.
In the mean time, Hosein Ebn T-hamir, being re¬
turned into Syria with the forces under his command,
gave a faithful account of the situation of affairs in y\-
rabia to Merwan Ebn A! Hakem. He also acquainted
him of the offer he had made to Abdallah of the oath
of allegiance, which the latter had refused, or at least
would not come to Damascus in order to be invested
with the supreme authority there. On this account he
advised Merwan to take care of himself and the rest
of the house of Ommiyah, who had fled to Damascus
after their expulsion from Medina. On this discourse
Merwan was inclined to submit to Abdallah j but was
diverted from it by Obeidallah, who insisted that no
superior ought to be acknowledged by Merwan, who
was at the head of the Koreish. Ihe people 01 Da¬
mascus had constituted Dahak Ebn ivais their protec¬
tor, who inclined to Abdallah, riie Basrans were at
this juncture entirely in tumult and confusion, not be¬
ing able to agree about a protector after the expulsion
of Obeidallah*, so that at last they wrote to Abdallah,
offering him the government of their territory. Hus
he accepted, but could not be prevailed upon to stir
5 ] A R A
from Mecca j nor could Merwan be persuaded to suf- Arabia.
fer any of the Syrians to perform the pilgrimage to v 
Mecca, lest they should join Abdallah, and thereby
contribute to his exclusion from the throne.
In the midst of this confusion Abdallah might have
easily secured the caliphate to himself, had he not with
the utmost imprudence as well as inhumanity given or¬
ders for the extermination of the house of Ommiyah. 132
This ruined his affairs ; for they being now obliged to^rwan^
provide for their own safety, Merwan was proclaimed ca|jpj1 a(.
caliph at Damascus } and thus the whole Moslem empire Damascus,
was rent into two potent factions, the one under Mef-
wan and the other under Abdallah.
We have already observed, that Dahak Ebn Kais
inclined to favour Abdallah. This he continued to do
after Merwan was proclaimed caliph, insomuch that a
battle soon ensued between his followers and those of
Merwan, in which Dahak was defeated and kihed 3 and
thus Merwan became master of all the province of Sy¬
ria. Soon after this victory, Merwan advanced with a
considerable body of troops towards Egypt 3 but sent
before him Amru Ebn Said with a detachment, in or¬
der to facilitate his passage. That general having de¬
feated Abdalrahman, Abdallah’s lieutenant, in several
brisk actions, he at last surrendered the whole country
to Merwan for a sum of money, and retired with the
Arabs under his command to Hejaz. Ihe Syrian
troops, therefore, immediately took possession of that
country, and obliged the inhabitants to take an oath
of allegiance to Merwan 3 who having appointed his son
Abdalaziz to preside over Egypt, returned with the
greatest part of his forces to Damascus. Here he was
informed that Abdallah had despatched against him his Abdallah’s
brother Musab with a considerable army. Against him forces de-
Merwan despatched Amru Ebn Said 3 who having soon
come up with him, gave him a total defeat, and disper¬
sed his troops in such a manner that Musab found it
impossible to rally them again, 134
In the 65th year of the Hegira, the inhabitants of The Cufaus
Cufa, pretending to be seized with remorse of con-rev0^*
science for their treachery to Hosein the son of Ali,
raised an insurrection against both the caliphs, and
therefore assembled a body of 16,000 men, under the
command of one Soliman, who was to revenge the death joined by
of Hosein, upon Obeidallah Ebn Ziyad and his adhe-Al Moah-
rents. But while Soliman and his troops remainedtar*
yet inactive, A1 Mokhtar, who had served under Ab¬
dallah, and was disgusted at not having been promoted
as he expected, arrived at Cufa, and representing the
incapacity of Soliman, who indeed appears to have
been totally unfit for such an enterprise, offered to take
the command upon himself, ibis, however, was re¬
fused 3 and as A1 Mokhtar had no opinion of Soliman’s
military capacity, he found means to draw off 2000 of
his troops 3 while 10,000 more chose rather to violate
the oaths they had taken, than run the risk of being I3(S
cut to pieces by a superior enemy. Soliman, however, Soliman’s
put a good face upon the matter 3 and, telling his folly and
troops that they were to fight for another world and*11
not this, set forward to invade Syria with the 4000
who remained with him : but being advanced as Hr as
Eksas upon the Euphrates, he found that he had lost
1000 men by desertion 3 nor was he joined by the Se¬
paratists of Basra and A1 Mgdayen, though they had
promised him a reinforcement. Firmly persuaded,
g T 2 however#
•lies.
AHA [ 51
Arabia, however, that his cause was the cause of heaven, Soli-
» -f man continued his march all night, and next day ar¬
rived at the tomb of Hosein, where his men performed
their devotions with such enthusiasm of penitence, that
one present swore he never saw such crowding about
the black stone in the temple of Mecca itself.—Conti¬
nuing still to advance, he received a friendly letter
from Abdallah Ebn Yezid, the governor of Cufa, ad¬
vising him to return, and representing to him the folly
of engaging so powerful an army as would he sent
against him, with a handful of men : but Soliman,
imagining that he was only recalled in order to support
Abdallah Ebn Zobeir in his pretensions to the cali¬
phate, persisted in his resolution of penetrating into
Syria. He told his troops, that they would never be
nearer the two Hoseins (Hcsein, and his brother Ha¬
san, to whom also the Shiites gave that name) than
they were at present j and that should they at this time
meet with death, they would he in a state of repent¬
ance, and consequently could never die in a more pro-
137 per time; and after this speech, continuing still to ad-
He iseut.m vance> he was at last met by Obeidallah, at the head
alnfis meii 20>000 horse, who, after an obstinate engagement,
"cut to pieces Soliman and all his troops.
Merwan Soon after this decisive action died the caliph Mer-
wan, after he had reigned eleven months. He is said
by some authors to have been poisoned by his wife
Zeinab, Moawiyah’s widow. Her he had married, with
a promise that her son Khaled should succeed him ; but
afterwards altering the succession in favour of his own
son Abdalmalec, young Khaled reproached him with
his breach of pi’omise : upon this Merwan calling him
bastard, the child complained to his mother; who, to
be revenged for this affront, is said to have poisoned
him, or smothered him with a pillow.
In the beginning of the caliphate of Abdalmalec,
A1 Mokhtar, who had been imprisoned by the gover¬
nor of Cufa, was released at the intercession of Abdal¬
lah Ebn Omar, who had married his sister. The year
following, having put himself at the head of the Shiite
sectaries, he sent proposals of alliance to Abdallah Ebn
Zobeir ; but he, justly suspecting his sincerity, by a
stratagem cut oft’ near 3000 of his men. Upon this dis¬
aster, A1 Mokhtar, fearing the house of Ali might be
intimidated, sent a letter to Mahomet Ebn Hanifyah,
one of that family, in which he offered his assistance
with a powerful army. This offer Mahomet declined,
famif °oftlie declaring himself only for pacific measures ; but though
y ° he and all the rest of All’s family behaved in the most
peaceable manner, Abdallah did not think himself safe
till they owned his authority. Pie therefore imprison¬
ed them, together with 17 of the principal citizens of
Cufa, whom he threatened to put to death, and after¬
wards burn their bodies, if they did not within a limit¬
ed time take an oath of allegiance to him. A1 Mokhtar
being informed of the distressed situation they were in,
sent a body of 750 horse to Mecca, under Abu Ab¬
dallah, to release them. That general not only execu¬
ted his orders with great bravery, but took Abdallah
himself prisoner, whom he would have cut to pieces on
the spot, had be not been released at the intercession of
Mahomet, who for the present adjusted the differences
to the mutual satisfaction of all parties. After this re¬
conciliation, Abu Abdallah, or rather Mahomet him¬
self, distributed among 4000 of All’s friends a sum of
2
6 ]
A E A
*39
Narrow e
money brought for that purpose, in order to indemnify Arabia,
them for the losses they had sustained. Thus the friends v—.
of Ali were happily delivered, when only two days of
the time granted them by Abdallah remained, and a
sufficient quantity of wood and other combustibles vras
collected, in order to consume their bodies. Notwith¬
standing the reconciliation, however, that had lately
taken place, Mahomet Ebn Kanifyah thought proper
to post himself on a mountain near Mecca with a body
of 4000 men.
The Cufaus having received advice before Merwan’s
death, that he had sent Obeidallah with a powerful
army towards their city, and even given them permis¬
sion to plunder it in case it should be taken, appointed
Yezid Ebn Ares, a man of undaunted courage, to op¬
pose him ; but Merwan dying before Obeidallah could
execute his commission, an end was put for the present
to this expedition. The memory of it, however, still
remained ; and A1 Mokhtar, to whom Obeidallah was
personally obnoxious, assembled a body of troops to
act offensively against him, and even against the Sy¬
rian caliph himself in case he should support Obeidallab. 140
Among other preparations for this enterprise, Allmpietjof
Mokhtar caused a kind of portable throne to be made,A1 MoM1
telling his troops, that “ it would be of the same use1*1*
to them that the ark was to the children of Israel.” It
was therefore carried on a mule before the troops that
were to march against Obeidallah, and the following
px-ayer said before it: “ O God ! grant that we may
live long in thy obedience; help us ; and do not for¬
get us, but px-otect us.” This expedient was so well
adapted to the hot-headed enthusiasts who composed j^r
A1 Mokhtar’s army, that they attacked Obeidallah’sQbeidallf
camp, defeated him, and gained a complete victory.defeated
Obeidallah himself was killed in the action, his headan(^^e
sent to A1 Mokhtar, and his body reduced to ashes.—
By this victoi-y the sectaries were rendered so formi¬
dable, that Nisibin or Nisibis, and several other cities,
surrendered to them without opposition. They now
began to entertain thoughts of deposing both the ca¬
liphs, and placing on the Moslem throne one of the fa¬
mily of Ali ; but all their towering hopes were soon
frustrated by the defeat and death of A1 Mokhtar by 142
Musab brother to Abdallah Ebn Zobeir. A1 Mokh-AlMokh
tax*, after being defeated in a general engagement byt®r^e^
Musab, fled to the castle of Cufa, where he defended e(j
himself with great bravery for some time ; but being sab.
at last killed, his men, to the number of 7000, sur¬
rendered at discretion, and were all of them put to
the sword on account of the outrages they had com¬
mitted.
The next year, the 68th of the Hegira, the Azara-
kites, so denominated from Nafe Ebn A1 Azarak, the
author of their sect, having assembled a considerable
force, made an irruption into Irak. They advanced ^
almost to the gates of Cufa, and penetrated to A1 Ma-Horrid
dayen. Being swoi’n enemies of the house of Ommi-cluekie*
yah, and acknowledging no government, spiritual or
temporal, they committed terrible ravages in every part
of the Moslem territories through which they passed.
They carried their excesses to such a height as to mur¬
der all the people they met with, to rip open women
with child, and commit every species of cruelty that
could be invented upon the inhabitants without distinc¬
tion. The governor of Mavvsel and Mesopotamia, be¬
ing
Ambla.
144
'hey are
efeated
nd disper-
ed.
I45
Barbarity
jf Abdai-
aalec.
145
Disgrace¬
ful treaty
with the
Greeks.
*47
Musab de¬
feated and
silled by
Abdalma.
!ec.
A R A [51
ing informed of these unparalleled outrages, marched
against them with a body of troops, and carried on a
brisk war with them for eight months. During this
period their leader Nafe Ebn Al Azarak died ; and was
succeeded by Katri Ebn Al Fojat, under whose con¬
duct they continued their depredations. Musab not
being pleased with his lieutenant’s management of the
war, recalled him, and sent in his place one Omar Ebn
Abdallah Temini, who gave the Azarakites a great
overthrow at Naisabur in Khorasan, put many of them
to the sword, and pursued the rest as far as Ispahan
and the province of Keianan. Here having received
a reinforcement, they returned into the province of
Ahwaz, and did incredible damage to the country
through which they passed. But Omar advancing a-
gainst them a second time, they retired at his approach
to Al Madayen, ravaging the district belonging to
the city in a dreadful manner. However, Omar pur¬
suing them thither also, they fled into the province of
Kerman, and thence gradually dispersed themselves.
This year there was a grievous famine in Syria, which
suspended all military operations.
The next year, being the 69th of the Hegira, Ab-
dalmalec left Damascus to march against Musab. In
his absence he left Amru Ebn Said governor of the
city j but he immediately seized upon it for himself,
which obliged the caliph to return. After several skir¬
mishes had happened between some detachments ol the
caliph’s troops with those of Amru, a pacification was
concluded at the intercession of the women : but Ab-
dalmalec barbarously put Amru to death with his own
hand, notwithstanding his promise j and was imme¬
diately seized with such a tremor, that he lost the use
of almost all his faculties, and was obliged to be laid
in bed. In the mean time the palace was attacked by
Yahyah, Amru’s brother, at the head of 1000 slaves.
After a warm dispute, they forced open the gates,
killed several of the guards, and were upon the point
of entering the palace, when the people within threw
Amru’s head among them. This so cooled their ar¬
dour, that they desisted from the attempt j and some
money having been afterwards distributed among them
they retired. So great, however, was Abdalmalec’s
avarice, that after the tumult was appeased, he recalled
all the money which had been distributed, and com¬
manded it to be deposited in the public treasury.
In the 70th year of the Hegira, the Greeks made
an irruption into Syria j and Abdalmalec having oc¬
casion for all his forces to act against Abdallah Ebn
Zobeir, was obliged to pay a tribute of IOOO dinars
per day, according to Theophanes, and send every
year 365 slaves and as many horses to Constantinople.
In this treaty, it was also stipulated, that the reve¬
nues of Cyprus, Armenia, and Heria, should be
equally divided between-the caliph and the Greek em¬
peror.
Abdalmalec being now at leisure to pursue his in¬
tended expedition against Musab, marched against him
in person j and having arrived at Masken, a small town
on the frontiers of Mesopotamia, where he was waited
for by Musab, the latter was defeated through the
treachery of his troops, and himself killed. After the
battle, Abdalmalec repaired to Cufa, where he was re¬
ceived with the utmost submission ; and people of all
r^nkg canje in crpwds to take the oath of allegiance to.
7 ] AHA
him. He then ordered vast sums of money to be dis- Arabia,
tributed among them, and gave a splendid entertain- -v—
ment to his new subjects, to which even the meanest of
them were not refused admittance. During this enter¬
tainment, the unfortunate Musab’s head was presented
to the caliph } upon which one of the company took
occasion to say to him, “ I saw Hosein’s head in this
same castle presented to Obeidallah : Obeidallah’s to
Al Mokhtar ; Al Mokhtar’s to Musab ; and now at
last Musab’s to yourself.” This observation so affect¬
ed the caliph, that, either to avert the ill omen, or
from some other motive, he ordered the castle to be
immediately demolished. Abdallah Ebn Zobeir, in
the mean time, having received the melancholy news
of the defeat and death of his brother, assembled the
people of Mecca, and from the pulpit made a speech
suitable to the occasion. He also did his utmost to
put Mecca in a proper posture of defence, expecting
a speedy visit from his formidable competitor, who
now gave law to Irak, Syria, and Egypt, without
controul.
Soon after Abdalmalec’s return to Damascus, he ap¬
pointed his brother Bashar governor of Cufa, and Kha-
led Ebn Abdallah governor of Basra. The latter had
no sooner entered upon his office, than he indiscreetly
removed from the command of the army Al Mohalleb,
one of the greatest generals of the age j appointing in
his room Abdalaziz, who was greatly his inferior in
military skill. Of this dismission the Azarakites being
informed, they immediately attacked Abdalaziz, en¬
tirely defeated him, .and took his wife prisoner. A dis¬
pute arising among the victors about the price of that
lady, one of them, to end it, immediately cut off her
head. Upon this disaster, Khaled was commanded to
replace Al Mohalleb, which he did; and having in I4§-
conjunction with him attacked the Azarakites, forced Azarakites
their camp, and entirely defeated them, t defeated.
In the 72d year of the Hegira, Abdalmalec having
no enemy to contend with but Abdallah Ebn Zobeir,
made great preparations for an invasion of Hejaz, giv¬
ing the command of the army to be employed on this
occasion to Al Hejaj, one of his most warlike and elo¬
quent captains. Before that general had put his army
in march for Mecca, he offered his protection to all the
Arabs there that would accept of it. Abdallah being
informed of the enemy’s approach, sent out several par¬
ties of horse to reconnoitre, and give him intelligence
of their motions. Between these and some of Al He-
jaj’s advanced guards several skirmishes happened, in
which Abdallah’s men had generally the worst. This-
encouraged Al Hejaj to send to the caliph for a rein¬
forcement, his troops amounting to no more than 2000
men, who were insufficient for reducing Mecca. He
assured him at the same time, that Abdallah’s fierce¬
ness was very much abated, and that his men deserted
to him daily. The caliph, upon this, ordered a rein¬
forcement of 5000 men under the command of Iha-
rik Ebn Amer ; but notwithstanding this additional
strength, he made but little progress in the siege for
some time. While he battered the temple of Mecca Mecca be-
with his machines, it thundered and lightened so dread-
fully, that the Syrians were struck with terror, and re- h
fused to play them any longer upon that edifice.. Upon
this Al Hejaj stuck the corner of his vest into his gir¬
dle, and putting into it one of the stones that was to
« be
A R A [5
Arabia, be discharged out of the catapults, slang it into the
1 -1——1 town, and this occasioned the recommencement of the
operations. The next morning the Syrians were an¬
noyed by fresh storms, which killed 12 men, and quite
dispirited them. A1 Hejaj, however, animated them,
by observing that he was a son of Tehama j that this
was the storm of Tehama, and that their adversaries
suffered as much as they. The day following some of
Abdallah’s men were killed by a very violent storm,
which gave A1 Hejaj a further opportunity of animat¬
ing his troops. At last, Abdallah having been desert¬
ed by most of his friends, 10,000 of the inhabitants of
Mecca, and even by his own sons Hamza and Kho-
beib, desired to know his mother’s sentiments as to
what course he was to take. He represented to her,
that he was almost entirely abandoned by his subjects
and relations; that the few who persisted in their fide¬
lity to him could scarce enable him to defend the city
any longer ; and that the Syrian caliph would grant
him any terms he could think fit to demand. His
mother, however, being of an inflexible resolution,
and not able to bear the thoughts of seeing her son re¬
duced to the rank of a private person, being herself the
daughter of Abu Beer, the first caliph, advised him
by no means to survive the sovereignty, of which he
was on the point of being deprived. This advice be¬
ing agreeable to his own sentiments, he resolved to die
in defence of the place. In pursuance of this resolu¬
tion, he defended the city, to the amazement of the
besiegers, for ten days, though destitute of arms,
troops, and fortifications. At last, having taken a fi¬
nal leave of his mother, and being animated by de¬
spair, he made a sally upon the enemy, destroyed a
t^0 great number of them with his own hand, and was at
Abdallah length killed fighting valiantly upon the spot. At
killed. t}je ]ast; interview he had with his mother, she is said
to have desired him to put off a coat of mail he had on
for his defence ; and, in order to inspire him with the
greater fortitude, she gave him a draught in which a
whole pound of musk had been infused. Al Hejaj or¬
dered his head to be cut off, and his body to be af¬
fixed to a cross j and by reason of the musk he had
drank, the body emitted a grateful odour for several
days.
By the reduction of Mecca, and the death of Ab¬
dallah Ebn Zobeir, Abdalmalec remained sole master
of the Moslem empire ; but he sustained a great loss
next year, in having an army of 100,000 men totally
cut off by the Khazarians in Armenia. The governor,
however, having marched in person against them at the
head of only 40,000 men, but all chosen troops, pene-
151 trated into the heart of Armenia, defeated and disper-
Khazarianssed a large body of the Khazarians, drove them into
reduced. t]ie;r temples, and reduced them to ashes. One of his
generals also defeated an army of 80,000 Khazarians at
the Iron or Caspian Gates, and destroyed a great num¬
ber of them, obliging the rest to embrace the Mahome-
JC2 tan religion.
Cruelty of Al Plejaj, in consequence of his services, was made
Al Hejaj. governor, first of Medina, and then of Irak, Khura¬
san, and Sijistan ; in all which places he behaved with
the greatest cruelty. Having entered the city of Cufa
muffled up in his turban, he was surrounded by crowds
of people who pressed forward to see him. He told
them their curiosity would soon be gratified j which he
8 ] A R A
effectually did, by ascending the pulpit, and treating Arabia,
them in a very coarse manner ; swearing that he would
make the wicked bear his own burden, and fit him
with his own shoe; and telling them among other
things, that “ he imagined he saw the heads of men
ripe and ready to be gathered, and turbans and beards
besprinkled with blood.” At Basra he made a speech
much to the same purpose; and, to give the inhabi¬
tants a taste of his discipline, caused one of them who
had been informed against as a rebel to be beheaded
on the spot without any trial. So great indeed was
the abhorrence in which he was held by those over
whom he presided, that having once recommended him¬
self to the prayers of a religious Moslem, the latter in¬
stantly prayed that it would please God to kill Al He¬
jaj quickly; “ for nothing, said he, could be more ad¬
vantageous for himself or the people.” In consequence
of these cruelties, rebellions were soon raised against
him ; but they were easily suppressed, and Al Hejaj
continued in the full enjoyment of all his employments
till he died. j.
In the 76th year of the Hegira, one Saleh Ebn saleh ais<?
Marj, a hot-headed enthusiast, and Shebib Ebn Zeid, Shebib re-
a Kharejite, took up arms against the caliph. Theybel.
had conspired against him the year before when on a
pilgrimage to Mecca ; and Al Hejaj had been ordered
to seize them : but at that time they found means to
make their escape ; and having now assembled about
120 men, Saleh was proclaimed emperor of the faith¬
ful at Haras in Mesopotamia. The governor soon re¬
ceived intelligence of their motions; and ordered a
body of 500 men, under the command of one Adi, to
march against them : but that general, being afraid to
attack them notwithstanding his superiority in num¬
bers, demanded a reinforcement. He therefore was
supplied with 500 more troops, with which he advan¬
ced to Daras ; but being still afraid of the rebels, he
entered into negociations with them ; during which
they attacked him, entirely defeated his army, and
made themselves masters of his camp. Upon this the
governor sent a detachment of 1500 horse against them;
but the rebels, notwithstanding the smallness of their Their brs-
number, defended themselves in such a manner, thatvery.
the caliph’s troops were forced to dismount and fight
on foot. The engagement continued till night; when
the rebels, finding themselves unable to contend with
such numbers, retired to Mawsel. After this, Al He¬
jaj being informed that they had taken post at Dascara,
sent against them an army of 5000 men. The rebels
hearing of this formidable army, abandoned their camp ;
but were so closely pursued, that they found themselves
obliged to stand an engagement at Modbaj, a small vil¬
lage on the Tigris. Saleh’s forces, consisting only of
three companies of 30 men each, were soon thrown into Saleh
disorder, and himself killed : but Shebib made an ex-hilled»
cellent retreat to a neighbouring castle ; from whence
he sallied out at midnight on the caliph’s forces, pene¬
trated to the very heart of the camp, where he wound¬
ed the general himself, and dispersed the greatest part
of his army. -
After this victory, the rebels became terrible even Hejaj
to Al Hejaj himself, whom they afterwards defeated defeated b
in several engagements ; and taking advantage of his Shebib.
being at Basra, made themselves masters of Cufa with
little opposition. Al Hejaj tvas now constrained to
write
ids.
, *59
They are
A R A [5
Arabia- write to the caliph for a strong detachment of the Sy-
o—v——* rian troops, with which he advanced against Shebib ;
whose army bearing no proportion to that of A1 He-
jaj, the former was totally defeated, had his wife’s
brother killed in the action, and was obliged to fly into
Kerman. Having refreshed his men in this province,
he again advanced to Akwaz, where he was met by
ji-y one of A1 Hejaj’s generals at the head of the Syrian
Ihebib’s army. Shebib defended himself with incredible va-
alour and ]our) and several times repulsed the caliph’s forces j
but being overpowered by numbers, as his army con¬
sisted of no more than 600 men, he was at last put to
flight, and in passing a bridge, was thrown off by his
horse and drowned. His body was drawn up by a
net, and the head sent to A1 Hejaj, who was not a
little pleased at the sight. After his death, the rebels
quarrelled among themselves, so that the caliph’s troops
cut off the greatest part of them. The remainder, un¬
der Katri Ebn Fojat, fled to Tabrestan. Here they
were kindly received by Ashid the king, who assigned
158 them a part of his territories for their habitation. But
ngratitude they had not been long settled before they insisted up-
iftkere- on ^ghid’s either embracing Mahometanism, or paving
them an annual tribute j which he refusing, they drove
him into Irak, where he implored the caliph’s protec¬
tion. Ashid afterwards conducted a body of Moslem
troops into Tabrestan } where they fell upon the rebels
with such fury, that they killed Katri himself, cut a
U! destroy- great number of h is men to pieces, and took all the rest
prisoners.
This year also (the 76th of the Hegira) money was
first coined in Arabia. Before this time, the dinars,
or gold coins, had Greek inscriptions *, and the dir¬
hems, or silver ones, Persic inscriptions. The first erec¬
tion of a mint in Arabia was occasioned by the fol¬
lowing accident. Abdalmalec added to the letters he
wrote to the Greek emperor this short passage of the
Koran, “ Say, God is one j” or “ Say, there is one
God $” and then inserted the year of the Hegira, with
the name of the prophet, in such a manner aa gave the
Money first emPeror great offence. Upon this he wrote to Abdal-
:oined ia malec, desiring him to alter that manner of writing,
Arabia. or he would send him some coins in which the name
of Mahomet should be mentioned in such a manner as
would not prove very agreeable. Abdalmalec now re¬
solved to coin money of his own $ and accordingly
some dirhems were this year stamped by A1 Hejaj,
with the inscription “ Alla Samad, “ God is eternal
which gave great offence to the superstitious Moslems,
as they imagined that the name of God would be there¬
by profaned by the touch of unclean persons.
In the 77th year of the Hegira, the Arabs made an
incursion into the imperial territories, and had Lazica
and Bernucium betrayed to them ; and the next year
they made themselves masters of Africa Propria, de¬
molishing the city of Carthage so effectually, that
scarce a vestige of it was left. They were soon driven
out, however, by John the Patrician, a man ol great
valour and experience in war *, but returning with a
superior force, they obliged John in his turn to fly to
Constantinople.
The 79th year of the Hegira is remarkable for no¬
thing but the rebellion of Abdalrahman in Persia ;
who drove the khan, or emperor ot the Turks, lar-
tars, or Moguls, out of that country : but the fol-
161
Carthage
demolish¬
ed.
fp ] A II A
lowing year, one of the Greek generals, named Hera- Arabia
dins, penetrated into Syria as far as Samosata, and —  '
destroyed 200,000 Arabs, ravaging the country in a 162
terrible manner; and Abdalrahman was defeated and
killed by A! Hejaj, after a great number of engage-
ments, some say 81, and others 100. In the 83d Heracliu*.
year of the Hegira, the nobility of Armenia revolting,
drove the Arabs out of that province ; but Mahomet,
one of the caliph’s generals, entering the country with
a powerful army, got the authors of the revolt into his
hands, and caused them all to be burnt alive. En¬
couraged by tills success, the Moslems invaded Cilicia
under one Azar ; but were, to the number of 10,000,
cut iu pieces by Heraclius ; and the next year, having
again entered that country, 12,000 of them were de¬
stroyed by the same general, and the rest forced to fly
into their own country. *
In the 86th year of the Hegira died the caliph Abdalma-
Abdalmalec, after a reign of 21 years. He is said tolecdies.
have had such a stinking breath, that the flies which
accidentally settled on his lips were almost instantly
struck dead by it. He was succeeded by A1 Walid,
who greatly extended the Moslem dominions. The first
year of his reign, one of his generals having passed the
Oxus (nowr the Jihun), defeated a numerous army of
Turks and Tartars. He then overran and entirely
reduced the countries of Sogd or Sogdiana, Bagrass,
Shash, Targana, and the whole immense tract going
under the name of Mawaralnahr, or Great Bukharia.
He also conquered the khan of Khowarazm, obliging pr0(jjg]0US
him to pay an annual tribute of two millions of di- conquests
nars. About the same time another general, called °f fh®
Mahomet, made an irruption into India, and subdued ^em*•
a considerable part of that country. He also entirely
subdued the kingdom of A1 Sind, lying between Per¬
sia and India. In this expedition, Derar king of A1
Sind was defeated and killed, and had his head cut off
by Mahomet.
In the 90th year of the Hegira, the Moslems made
an irruption into Cappadocia, defeated the emperor’s
army who opposed them, and took the city of Tyana.
The next year they made another incursion into the
imperial territories, whence they carried off numbers of
slaves; and the year following one Othman penetrated
into the heart of Cilicia, where he made himself master
of several cities, but does not appear to have long kept
his conquests. ^
In the 93d year of the Hegira, answering to that They make
of Christ 712, Tarik Ebn Zarka made a descent on a descent 1
Spain, defeated Roderic, the last king of the Goths,on sPain>
reduced the city of Toledo, and overran a consider¬
able part of the kingdom. Being afterwards joined by
Musa, commander of the African Moslems, the two
generals made themselves masters of most of the for¬
tresses, subjugating in a manner the whole country, ^
and obliging it to pay tribute to the caliph. In theseaU(j over_
expeditions the Moslems acquired spoils of immense run the
value ; and, amongst other things, an exceeding rich whole
table, called by the Arab writers “ the table of Solo-c0Unt,7-
mon the son of David.” According to these writers,
this table consisted entirely of gold and silver, and was
adorned with three borders of pearls ; but Roderic ot
Toledo, a Spanish historian, says it consisted of one en¬
tire stone, of a green colour, and of an immense size,
having no less than 365 feet. He adds, that it was
found 4
AHA [ 520 ] AHA
Arabia, found in a certain village or town, near tlie mountain
—v—J called in his days Jibal Soliman, or “ the mountain of
Solomon.”
After Musa and Tarik had committed dreadful de¬
predations in Spain, they were both recalled by the ca¬
liph j but the next year, Tarik having undertaken an¬
other expedition into the same country, landed a body
of 12,000 men at Gibraltar, with which he plundered
the whole province of Baetica, and overran the great¬
est part of Lusitania. Boderic hearing of these depre¬
dations, sent against him an army of raw undisciplined
troops, who were easily defeated, and most of them left
dead on the spot j which so animated the Arab com¬
mander, that he resolved not to lay down his arms till
he had made an absolute conquest of Spain. About the
same time that Tarik made such progress in Spain, an¬
other Moslem general entered Pisidia with a powerful
army, took the city of Antioch, and, after having rava¬
ged the country, retired into the caliph’s territories with
very little loss.
A1 Hejaj In the 95th year of the Hegira died A1 Hejaj go-
dies. vernor of Irak, &c. after he had presided over that
country 20 years. He exercised such cruelties upon
those who were in subjection to him, that he is said to
have killed 120,000 men, and to have suffered 50,000
men and 30,000 women to perish in prison. To ex¬
cuse this cruelty, he used frequently to say, That a se¬
vere, or even violent government, is better than one too
weak and indulgent 5 as the first only hurts particular
persons, but the latter the whole community. This
year also the Arabs gained a complete victory in Spain
over Roderic king of the Goths, who perished in the
action. In this campaign, Tarik possessed himself of
immense treasures j by which means he was enabled to
reward not only his officers, but common soldiers also.
In the eastern parts of the world also, the Arabs were
this year very formidable ; Moslema, an Arab general,
having entered the imperial territories, ravaged the
Whole province of Galatia, carrying off with him many
rich spoils, and a vast number of prisoners. The Greek
emperor, hearing that A1 Walk! designed to attack
him both by sea and land, sent some of his nobles to
treat of a peace j and, among other things, desired them
to bring him a particular account of the force with
which the caliph designed to invade the Greek empire.
This they represented as so terrible, that it would be
next to impossible to oppose it. The emperor therefore
caused a great number of light ships to be built, the
walls to be repaired, and ordered such of the citizens
as had not laid up provisions for three years to depart
the city. A1 Walid, in the mean time, continued his
warlike prepax-ations with the utmost vigour, being de¬
termined to make himself master of Constantinople in a
i63 single campaign.
A1 Walid In the 96th year of the Hegira died the caliph Al
dies, and is Walid ; and was succeeded by his brother Soliman.
bySoliman.year ^ie ^os^em conquests on the east side were
increased by the reduction of Tabrestan and Jui’gan or
Georgia. In Spain, also, the city of Toledo which
169 revelled was reduced, and Caesarea Augusta, now
Constant!- Saragossa, as well as several others. The next year
nopleuu- Moslema set out for Constantinople, which he besieged
without success till the 99th year of the Hegira; at
e*e * which time he was obliged to return, after having lost
before it 120,000 men. The soldiers were reduced to
the greatest extremities of hunger, being forced to live Arabia,
upon hides, the roots and bark of trees, the most noi- -y—
some animals, and even the dead bodies of their com¬
panions. This year also (the 99th of the Hegira) is jy0
remarkable for the death of the caliph Soliman. Ac-Death of j
cording to some, he was poisoned by Yezid his brothei-, Soliman.
governor of Persia, who was displeased with his having
appointed his cousin-german, Omar Ebn Abdalaziz,
as his successor, to the exclusion of himself. Accord¬
ing to others he died of an indigestion j which is not
greatly to be wondered at, if, as those authors say, he
used to devour 100 pounds weight of meat every day,
and dine very heartily after eating three lambs roasted
for breakfast. In the latter part of his reign, the Mos¬
lems were by no means successful in Spain : the king¬
dom of Navarre being founded at this time by Pela-
gius, or Pelayo, whom the Arabs were never able to
reduce.
The new caliph Omar Ebn Abdalaziz was by no
means of a martial character $ but is said to have been
very pious, and possessed of very amiable qualities. He
suppressed the usual malediction, which was solemnly
pronounced by the caliphs of the house of Ommiyah
against the house of Ali ; and always showed great
kindness to the latter. He was poisoned by Yezid, af-New call
ter a short reign of two years and five months. It is re- p0*501^
lated, as an instance of this caliph’s humility, that when
Moslema visited him in his last sickness occasioned by
the poison, he lay upon a bed of palm tree leaves, sup¬
ported by a pillow formed of beasts skins, and covered
with an ordinary garment. He had also on a dirty
shirt $ for which Moslema blamed his sister Fatima,
Omar’s wife ; but she excused herself by telling him,
that the emperor of the faithful had not another shirt
to put on.
Concerning Yezid the successor of Omar we find
very little worth mentioning. He did not long enjoy
the dignity he had so iniquitously purchased, dying af¬
ter a reign of little more than four years. He died of
grief for a favourite concubine named Hababah, who
was accidentally choked by a large grape which stuck
in her throat.
Yezid was succeeded by his brother Hesham, who
ascended the throne in the 105th year of the Hegira.
In the second and third year of his reign, several in¬
cursions were made into the imperial territories, but
generally without success. In the iC9th year of the t-2
Hegira, Moslema drove the Turks out of Armenia and The Tur
Aderbijan, and again confined them within the Caspian defeated.
Gates. The next year he obliged them to take an oath
that they should keep their own country, but this they
soon violated, and were again driven back by Moslema. ^
About this time also the Arabs, having passed the Py-Frances
renees, invaded France to the number of 400,000, in-vadedbj
eluding women and slaves, under the command ol onethe Aral
Abdalrahman. Having advanced to Arles upon the
Rhone, they defeated a large body of French that op¬
posed them ; and having also defeated Count Eudo,
they pursued him through several provinces, wasted the
whole country with fire and sword, making themselves
masters of the city of Tours, most of which they redn-
ced to ashes. Here, however, a stop was put to their They ar.
devastations by Charles Martel j who coming up with utterly 0
them near the above-mentioned city, engaged them for
seven days together, and at last gave them a t°tal Martel.
overthrow.
AHA [ 521 ] AHA
Arabia, overthrow. The French general made himself master
of all their baggage and riches \ and Abdalrahman,
with the shattered remains of his army, reached the
frontiers of Spain with the utmost difficulty. The fol¬
lowing year also, according to some historians, the
Arabs were overthrown at Illiberis, scarce any of them
making their escape. To make amends for this bad
fortune, however, the caliph’s arms were successful
against the Turks, who had again invaded some of the
eastern provinces.
In the 125th year of the Hegira died the caliph He-
sham, after a reign of 19 years, seven months, and ele¬
ven days. He was succeeded by A1 Walid II. who is
represented as a man of a most dissolute life, and was
assassinated the following year on account of his profes¬
sing Zendicisrriy a species of infidelity nearly resembling
Sadducism. He was succeeded by Yeatid the son of
A1 Walid I. who died of the plague, after a reign of
six months : and was succeeded by Ibrahim Ebn A1
elm of Walid, an imprudent and stupid prince. He wasdepo-
erwaa. sed in the 127th year of the Hegira by Merwan Ebn
Mahomet, the governor of Mesopotamia j who gave
out, as an excuse for his revolt, that he intended to re¬
venge the murder of the caliph A1 Walid II, He
was no sooner seated on the throne, than the people
of Hems rebelled against him. Against them the ca¬
liph marched with a powerful army \ and asking them
what could excite them to this rebellion, summoned
(hem to surrender. They assured him that they were
disposed to admit him into their city j and, accord¬
ingly, one of the gates being opened, Merwan en¬
tered with about 3000 of his troops. The men that
entered with him were immediately put to the sword
and the caliph himself escaped with great difficulty.
However, he afterwards defeated them in a pitched
battle, put a great number of them to the sword, dis¬
mantled the city, and crucified 600 of the principal
authors of the revolt.
This, however, was far from quieting the commotions
in different parts of the empire. The inhabitants of
Damascus soon followed the example of those of Hems,
and deposed the caliph’s governor *, but Merwan, im¬
mediately after the extinction of the former rebellion,
marched to Damascus with great celerity, entered the
city by force, and brought to condign punishment the
authors of the revolt. Peace, however, was no sooner
established at Damascus, than Soliman Ebn Hesham
set up for himself at Basra, where he was proclaimed
caliph by the inhabitants. Here he assembled an army
of 10,000 men, with whom he marched to Kinnissin,
where he was joined by vast numbers of Syrians, who
flocked to him from all parts. Merwan, receiving ad¬
vice of Soliman’s rapid progress, marched against him
with all the forces he could assemble, and entirely de¬
feated him. In this engagement Soliman lost 3000
men ; so that he was obliged to fly to Hems, where
900 men took an oath to stand by him to the last. Ha¬
ving ventured, however, to attack the caliph’s forces a
second time, he was defeated, and again forced to fly
to Hems. But, being closely pursued by Merwan,
he constituted his brother Said governor of the city,
leaving with him the shattered remains of his troops,
and himself fled to Tadmor. Soon after his depar¬
ture Merwan appeared before the town, which he be¬
sieged for seven months j during which time he bat-
Vol. II. Part II. +
tered it incessantly with 80 catapults. The citizens, Arabia,
being reduced to the last extremity, surrendered, and \
delivered Said into the caliph’s hands. In considera¬
tion of this submission, Merwan pardoned the rebels,
and took them all under his protection. About the
same time, another pretender to the caliphate appeared
at Cufa ; but Merwan took his measures so well, that
he extinguished this rebellion before it could come to
any height. ijs
Notwithstanding the success, however, that had hi-A party
therto attended Merwan, a strong party was formed fornied a-
against him in Khorasan by the house of A1 Abbas.
The first of that house that made any considerable fi- san>
gure was named Mahomet, who flourished in the reign
of Omar Ebn Abdalaziz. He was appointed chief of
the house of A1 Abbas about the hundredth year of the
Hegira j and is said to have prophesied, that after his
death, one of his sons, named Ibrahim, should preside
over them till he was killed, and that his other son Ab¬
dallah, surnamed Abul Abbas Al Saffah, should be ca¬
liph, and exterminate the house of Ommiyah. Upon
this Al Saffah was introduced as the future sovereign,
and those present kissed his hands and feet.
After the decease of Mahomet, his son Ibrahim no¬
minated as his representative in Khorasan one Abu
Moslem, a youth of 19 years of age ; who beginning
to raise forces in that province, Merwan despatched
against him a body of horse under the command of Nasr 177
Ebn Sayer ; but that general was entirely defeated by Me»wan’«
Abu Moslem, and the greatest part of his men killedUorce* ^e*
The next year (the 128th of the Hegira) Merwan‘eate
made vast preparations to oppose Abu Moslem, who
after the late victory began to grow formidable to se¬
veral parts of the empire. According to some authors,
Merwan gained two victories over some of Ibrahim’s
generals 5 but the year following, Abu Moslem brought
such a formidable army into the field, that the caliph’s
troops could not make head against them ; his officers
in Khorasan therefore were obliged either to take an
oath of allegiance to Ibrahim, or to quit the province
within a limited time.
In the 130th year of the Hegira, the caliph’s gene¬
ral Nasr having drawn together another army, was
again defeated by Khataba another of Ibrahim’s gene¬
rals, and forced to fly to Raya, a town of Dylam, ac¬
cording to some, or of Khorasan, according to others. t^g
The next year Ibrahim having foolishly taken it into Ibrahim put
his head to go on a pilgrimage to Mecca, attended by to death,
a numerous retinue splendidly accoutred, was seized
and put to death by Merwan j and the year following
Abu Abbas was proclaimed caliph at Cufa. As soon
as the ceremony was ended, he sent his uncle Abdallah
with a powerful army to attack Merwan’s forces that
were encamped near Tubar at a small distance from
Mosul, where that caliph was then waiting for an ac¬
count of the success of his troops under Yezid gover¬
nor of Irak, against Khataba one of Al Saffah’s gene¬
rals. Khataba receiving advice of Yezid’s approach,
immediately advanced against him, and entirely defeat¬
ed him ; but in crossing the Euphrates, the waters of
which were greatly swelled, he was carried away by
the current and drowned. The pursuit, however, was
continued by his son Hamid, who dispersed the fugi¬
tives in such a manner that they could never afterwards
be rallied. At the news of this disaster, Merwan was
3U at
Arabia.
Merwau
himself de¬
feated.
1S0
and killed.
1S1
Seisin of
Al Mansur.
1S2
He mur¬
ders Abu
Moslem.
^s3
Abdalrali-
man pro¬
claimed
caliph in
Spain.
Attempt to
assassinate
the caliph.
AHA [ 522 ] A R A
at first greatly dispirited ; but soon recovering himself,
he advanced to meet Abdallah. In the beginning of
the battle, the calipb happened to dismount j and bis
troops perceiving their sovereign’s horse without his
rider, concluded that he was killed, and therefore im¬
mediately fled; nor was it in the power of the caliph
himself to rally them again, so that he w7as forced to fly
to Damascus-; but the inhabitants of that city, seeing
bis condition desperate, shut their gates against him.
Upon this he fled to Egypt, where he maintained him¬
self for some time ; but was at last attacked and killed
by Saleh, Abdallah’s brother, in a town of Thebais,
called Busir Kurides. The citizens of Damascus,
though they had shamefully deserted Merwan, refused
to open their gates to the victors; upon which Saleh
entered the city by force, and gave it up to be plunder¬
ed for three days by his soldiers.
By the total defeat and death of Merwan, Al Safl'ah
remained sole master of the Moslem throne ; but we
hear of no very remarkable events that happened during
his reign : only that he massacred great numbers of the
partisans of the house of Ommiyah ; and that Constan¬
tine Copronymus, taking advantage of the intestine
divisions among the Moslems, ravaged Syria. The
caliph died of the small-pox in the 136th year of the
Hegira, in the 33d year of his age ; and was succeeded
by his brother Al Mansur. In the beginning of Al
Mansur’s reign, hostilities continued against the house
ot Ommiyab, who still made resistance, but were al¬
ways defeated. Abdallah, however, the caliph’s uncle,
caused himsell to be proclaimed caliph at Damascus ;
and h aving assembled a powerful army in Arabia, Sy¬
ria, and Mesopotamia, advanced with great expedition
to the banks of the Masius near Nisibis, -where he en¬
camped. Al Mansur, being informed of this rebellion,
despatched Abu Moslem against Abdallah. This gene¬
ral, having harassed him for five months together, at
last brought him to a general action; and having entirely
defeated him, forced him to fly to Basra. Nothwith-
standing all his services, however, Abu Moslem was
soon after ungratefully and barbarously murdered by Al
Mansur, on some ridiculous pretences of being deficient
in respect towards him.
After the death of Abu Moslem, one Sinan, a Ma-
gian, or adorer of fire, having made himself master of
that general’s treasures, revolted against the caliph ; but
lie was soon defeated by Jamhur Ebn Morad, who had
been sent against him with a powerful army. In this
expedition Jamhur having acquired immense riches, the
covetous disposition of the caliph prompted him to send
a person express to the army to seize upon all the wealth.
1 his so provoked Jamhur, that he immediately turned
his arms against his master; but was soon defeated,
and entirely reduced. The following year (the 139th
of the Hegira), one Abdalrahman, of the house of Om-
rriiyah, after the entire ruin of that family in Asia, arri¬
ved in Spain, where he was acknowledged caliph ; nor
did he or his descendants ever afterw-ards own subjec¬
tion to the Arabian caliphs.
I lie 140th year of the Hegira is remarkable for an
attempt to assassinate the caliph. This attempt was
made by the Bawandians ; an impious sect, who held
the doctrine of metempsychosis or transmigration.—
rhey first offered Al Mansur divine honours, by going
in procession round his palace, as the Moslems were
a
wont to do round the Caaba ; but the caliph, highly in- Arabia
censed at this impiety, ordered 100 of the principal of -—
them to be imprisoned. These, however, were soon re¬
leased by their companions; who then went in a body
to the palace with an intention to murder their sove¬
reign ; but he being a person of uncommon bravery,
though he was surprised with very few attendants,
mounted a mule, and advanced towards the mutineers,
with an intention to sell his life as dear as possible. In
the mean time, Maan Ebn Zaidat, one of the chiefs of
the Ommiyan faction, who had concealed himself in or¬
der to avoid the caliph’s resentment, sallied out of his
retreat, and putting himself at the head of Al Mansur’s
attendants, charged the rebels with such fury, that he
entirely defeated them. This generosity of Maan was
so remarkable, that it afterwards passed into a proverb.
On this occasion 6000 of the Rawandians were killed
on the spot, and the caliph delivered from instant
death : he was, however, so much disgusted with the
Arabs on account of this attempt, that he resolved to
remove the capital of his empire out of their peninsula; ^
and accordingly founded a new city on the banks of theHeremo
Tigris, which from that time to this has been known by the seat
the name of Bagdad. The foundations of it were laidenlPirej
in the 145th year of the Hegira, and finished four years
after.
On the removal of the seat of government to Bagdad,
the peninsula of the Arabs seems all at once to have lost
its consequence, and in a short time the inhabitants
seem even to have detached themselves from the juris¬
diction of the caliphs: for in the 156th year of the
Hegira, while Al Mansur was yet living, they made
irruptions into Syria and Mesopotamia, as if they had
designed to conquer these countries over again for
themselves ; and though the Arabs, properly so called,
continued nominally subject to the caliphs of Bagdad till
the abolition of the caliphate by Hulaku the Tartar, yet
they did not become subject to him when he became
master of that city. There is even the strongest reason
to believe that the x\rabs (i. e. the inhabitants of the
peninsula properly called Arabia) have remained inde¬
pendent, not only of Hulaku, but of every other con¬
queror that the world hath yet produced.
The perpetual independence of the Arabs, indeed, Gjjionq
“ has been the theme of praise among strangers and Hist, vol-
natives. The kingdom of Yemen, it is true, has beenP-I7S'
successively subdued by the Abyssinians, the Persians,
the sultans of Egypt, and the Turks ; the holy cities ofij^epeix
Mecca and Medina have repeatedly bowed under aenceofi
Scythian tyrant; and the Roman province of Arabia Arabs,
embraced the peculiar wilderness in which Ismael and
his sons must have pitched their tents in the face of
their brethren. Yet these exceptions are temporary or
local; the body of the nation has escaped the yoke of
the most powerful monarchies ; the arms of Sesostris
and Cyrus, of Pompey and Trajan, could never a-
chieve the conquest of Arabia; the present sovereign
of the Turks may exercise a shadow of jurisdiction,
but his pride is reduced to solicit the friendship of a
people whom it is dangerous to provoke and fruitless
to attack. The obvious causes of their freedom are
inscribed on the character and country of the Arabs.
Many ages before Mahomet, their intrepid valour had
been severely felt by their neighbours in offensive and
defensive war. The patient and active virtues of a sol¬
dier
AHA t S23 ] 1 AHA
Arabia. ^ier are insensibly nursed in the habits and discipline
*»-y—J of a pastoral life. The care of the sheep and camels is
abandoned to the women of the tribe $ but the mar¬
tial youth, under the banner of the emir, is ever on
horseback, and in the field, to practise the exercise of
the bow, the javelin, and the scimitar. The long me¬
mory of their independence is the firmest pledge of its
perpetuity j and succeeding generations are animated
to prove their descent and to maintain their inheri¬
tance. Their domestic feuds are suspended on the ap¬
proach of a common enemy j and in their last hostili¬
ties against the Turks, the caravan of Mecca was at¬
tacked and pillaged by fourscore thousand of the con¬
federates. . When they advance to battle, the hope of
victory is in the front; and in the rear, the assurance
of a retreat. Their horses and camels, who in eight or
ten days can perform a march of four or five hundred
miles, disappear before the conqueror 5 the secret wa¬
ters of the desert elude his search ; and his victorious
troops are consumed with thirst, hunger, and fatigue,
in the pursuit of an invisible foe, who scorns his efforts,
and safely reposes in the heart of the burning solitude.
The arms and deserts of the Bedoweens are not only
the safeguards of their own freedom, but the barriers
also of the Happy Arabia, whose inhabitants, remote
from war, are enervated by the luxury of the soil and
climate. The legions of Augustus melted away in dis¬
ease and lassitude : and it is only by a naval power that
the reduction of Yemen has been successfully attempt¬
ed. When Mahomet erected his holy standard, that
kingdom was a province of the Persian empire j yet
seven princes of the Homerites still reigned in the
mountains ; and the vicegerent of Chosroes was tempt¬
ed to forget his distant country and his unfortunate
master. The historians of the age of Justinian repre¬
sent the state of the independent Arabs, who were di¬
vided by interest or affection in the long quarrel of the
East: the tribe of Ghassan was allowed to encamp on
the Syrian territory ; the princes of Hira were per¬
mitted to form a city about 40 miles to the southward
of the ruins of Babylon. Their service in the field
was speedy and vigorous ; but their friendship was ve¬
nal, their faith inconstant, their enmity capricious :
it was an easier task to excite than to disarm these
roving barbarians : and, in the familiar intercourse of
war, they learned to see, and to despise, the splendid
weakness both of Rome and of Persia. From Mecca
to the Euphrates, the Arabian tribes were confound¬
ed by the Greeks and Latins, under the general ap¬
pellation of Saracens ; a name which every Christian
mouth has been taught to pronounce with terror and
^ abhorrence.
'lieir do- ** ^ slaves °f domestic tyranny may vainly exult
‘estic free-in their national independence 5 but the Arab is perso-
omand nally free; and he enjoys, in some degree, the benefits
laracter. 0f society, without forfeiting the prerogatives of na¬
ture. In every tribe, superstition, or gratitude, or
fortune, has exalted a particular family above the heads
of their equals. The dignities of sheich and emir in¬
variably descend in this chosen race •, but the order of
succession is loose and precarious 5 and the most worthy
or aged of the noble kinsmen are preferred to the
simple, though important, office of composing disputes
by their advice, and guiding valour by their example.
The momentary junction of several tribes produces an
army : their more lasting union constitutes a nation ; Aralia.
and the supreme chief, the emir of emirs, whose ban- 1 /-—•<
ner is displayed at their head, may deserve, in the eyes
of strangers, the honours of the kingly name. If the
Arabian princes abuse their power, they are quickly
punished by the desertion of their subjects, who had
been accustomed to a mild and parental jurisdiction.
Their spirit is free, their steps are unconfined, the de¬
sert is open, and the tribes and families are held toge¬
ther by a mutual and voluntary compact. The softer na¬
tives of Yemen supported the pomp and majesty of a
monarch ; but if he could not leave his palace without
endangering his life, the active powers of government
must have been devolved on his nobles and magistrates.
The cities of Mecca and Medina present, in the heart
of Asia, the form or rather the substance of a common¬
wealth. The grandfather of Mahomet, and his lineal
ancestors, appear in foreign and domestic transactions
as the princes of their country j but they reigned like
Pericles at Athens, or the Medici at Florence, by the
opinion of their wisdom and integrity : their influence
was divided with their patrimony ; and the sceptre was
transferred from the uncles of the prophet to a younger
branch of the tribe of Koreish. On solemn occasions
they convened the assembly of the people j and, since
mankind must be either compelled or persuaded to
obey, the use and reputation of oratory among the an¬
cient Arabs is the clearest evidence of public freedom.
But their simple freedom was of a very different cast
from the nice and artificial machinery of the Greek and
Roman republics, in which each member possessed an
undivided share of the civil and political rights of the
community. In the more simple state of the Arabs,
the nation is free, because each of her sons disdains a
base submission to the will of a master. Flis breast is
fortified with the austere virtues of courage, patience,
and sobriety} the love of independence prompts him
to exercise the habits of self-command j and the fear
of dishonour guards him from the meaner apprehension
of pain, of danger, and of death. The gravity and
firmness of the mind is conspicuous in its outward de¬
meanour j his speech is slow, weighty, a»d concise; he
is seldom provoked to laughter; his only gesture is
that of stroaking his beard, the venerable symbol of
manhood ; and the sense of his own importance teaches
him to accost his equals without levity, and his superi¬
ors without awe. The liberty of the Saracens survi¬
ved their conquests : the first caliphs indulged the bold
and familiar language of their subjects: they ascended
the pulpit to persuade and edify the congregation ;
nor was it before the seat of empire was removed to
the Tigris, that the Abbassides adopted the proud
and pompous ceremonial of the Persian and Byzantine
courts. _ l88
“ In the study of nations and men, we may observe ciril wars
the causes that render them hostile or friendly to each and private
other, that tend to narrow or enlarge, to mollify orrevenSe*
exasperate the social character. The separation of
the Arabs from the rest of mankind has accustomed
them to confound the ideas of stranger and enemy ;
and the poverty of the land has introduced a maxim
of jurisprudence, which they believe and practise to
the present hour. They pretend, that in the division
of the earth the rich and fertile climates were assigned
to the other branches of the human family; and that
3 U 2 the
AHA
[ 5H ]
AHA
Arabia, the posterity of the outlaw Ismael might recover, by
fraud or force, the portion of inheritance of which he
had been unjustly deprived. According to the remark
of Pliny, the Arabian tribes are equally addicted to
theft and merchandise : the caravans that traverse the
desert are ransomed or pillaged j and their neighbours,
since the remote times of Job and Sesostris, have been
the victims of their rapacious spirit. If a Bedoween
discovers from afar a solitary traveller, he rides furi¬
ously against him, crying, with a loud voice, “ Undress
thyself j thy aunt, {my wife) is without a garment.” A
ready submission entitles him to mercy ; resistance will
provoke the aggressor, and his own blood must expiate
the blood which he presumes to shed in legitimate de¬
fence. A single robber, ora few associates, are brand¬
ed with their genuine name 5 but the exploits of a
numerous band assume the character of lawful and ho¬
nourable war. The temper of a people, thus armed
against mankind, was doubly inflamed by the domestic
license of rapine, murder, and revenge. In the con¬
stitution of Europe, the right of peace and war is
now confined to a small, and the actual exercise to a
much smaller, list of respectable potentates j but each
Arab, with impunity and renown, might point his
javelin against the life of his countryman. The union
of the nation consisted only in avague resemblance of lan¬
guage and manners ; and in each community the juris¬
diction of the magistrate was mute and impotent. Of
the time of ignorance which preceded Mahomet, 1700
battles are recorded by tradition : hostility was embit¬
tered with the rancour of civil faction ; and the re¬
cital, in prose or verse, of an obsolete feud was suffi¬
cient to rekindle the same passions among the descend¬
ants of the hostile tribes. In private life, every man,
at least every family, was the judge and avenger of its
own cause. The nice sensibility of honour, which
weighs the insult rather than the injury, sheds its dead¬
ly venom on the quarrels of the Arabs : the honour
of their women, and of their beards, is most easily
wounded ; an indecent action, a contemptuous word,
can be expiated only by the blood of the offender;
and such is their patient inveteracy, that they expect
whole months and years the opportunity of revenge.
A fine or compensation for murder is familiar to the
barbarians of every age: but in Arabia the kinsmen
of the dead are at liberty to accept the atonement, or
to exercise with their own hands the law of retaliation.
The refined malice of the Arabs refuses even the head
of the murderer, substitutes an innocent to the guilty
person, and transfers the penalty to the best and most
considerable of the race by whom they have been in¬
jured. If he falls by their hands, they are exposed in
their turn to the danger of reprisals j the interest and
principal of the bloody debt are accumulated ; the in¬
dividuals of either family lead a life of malice and sus¬
picion, and 50 years may sometimes elapse before the
account of vengeance be finally settled. This sangui¬
nary spirit, ignorant of pity or forgiveness, has been
moderated, however, by the maxims of honour, which
require in every private encounter some decent equa¬
lity of age and strength, of numbers and weapons.
An annual festival of two, perhaps of four months, was
observed by the Arabs before the time of Mahomet ;
during which their swords were religiously sheathed both
in foreign and domestic hostility : and this partial truce
2
Arabii
189
Annual
truce.
is more strongly expressive of the habits of anarchy
and warfare.
“ But the spirit of rapine and revenge was attempered 190
by the milder influence of trade and literature. The ^.^rS(1J
solitary peninsula is encompassed by the most civilized ficat^nra8
nations of the ancient world j the merchant is theandvirt)
friend of mankind j and the annual caravans imported
the first seeds of knowledge and politeness into the cities,
and even the camps of the desert. The arts of gram¬
mar, of metre, and of rhetoric, were unknown to the
freeborn eloquence of the Arabians j but their pene¬
tration was sharp, their fancy luxuriant, their wit
strong and sententious, and their more elaborate com¬
positions were addressed with energy and effect to the ^
minds of their hearers. The genius and merit of aLovuof
rising poet was celebrated by the applause of his own poetry,
and the kindred tribes. A solemn banquet was pre¬
pared, and a chorus of women, striking their cymbals,
and displaying the pomp of their nuptials, sung in the
presence of their sons and husbands the felicity of their
native tribe 5 that a champion had now appeared to
vindicate their rights j that a herald had raised his
voice to immortalize their renown. rIhe distant or
hostile tribes resorted to an annual fair which was abo¬
lished by the fanaticism of the first Moslems 3 a nation¬
al assembly that must have contributed to refine and
harmonize the barbarians. Thirty days were employ¬
ed in the exchange, not only of corn and wine, but
of eloquence and poetry. The prize was disputed by
the generous emulation of the bards j the victorious
performance was deposited in the archives of princes
and emirs; and we may read in our own language the
seven original poems which were inscribed in letters of
gold, and suspended in the temple of Mecca. (The
Arabian poets were the historians and moralists of the
age ; and if they sympathized with the prejudices, they
inspired and crowned the virtues of their countrymen.
The indissoluble union of generosity and valour was
the darling theme of their song : and when they point¬
ed their keenest satire against a despicable race, they
affirmed, in the bitterness of reproach, that the men
knew not how to give, nor the women to deny. The
same hospitality which was practised by Abraham, and
celebrated by Homer, is still renewed in the camps
of the Arabs. The ferocious Bedoweens, the terror
of the desert, embrace, without inquiry or hesitation,
the stranger who dares to confide in their honour and
to enter their tent. His treatment is kind and re¬
spectful : he shares the wealth or the poverty of his
host j and, after a needful repose, he is dismissed on
his way, with thanks, with blessings, and perhaps
with gifts. iji
“ The religion of the Arabs, as well as of the Indi-Ancient
ans, consisted in the worship of the sun, the moon, and'^®*^’1
the fixed stars; a primitive and specious mode of su¬
perstition. The bright luminaries of the sky display
the visible image of a deity : their number and distance
convey to a philosophic, or even a vulgar eye, the idea
of boundles space : the character of eternity is mark¬
ed on these solid globes, that seem incapable of cor¬
ruption or decay : the regularity of their motions may
be ascribed to a principle of reason or instinct $ and
their real or imaginary influence encourages the vain
belief that the earth and its inhabitants are the object
of their peculiar care. The science of astronomy was
cultivated
AHA. [ 525 ] AHA
cultivated at Babylon •, but the school of the Arabs
^raJ)1*' i vvas a clear firmament and a naked plain. In their
nocturnal marches, they steered by the guidance of the
stars : their names, and order, and daily station, were
familiar to the curiosity and devotion of the Bedo-
ween ; and he was taught by experience to divide in
28 parts the zodiac of the moon, and to bless the con¬
stellations who refreshed, with salutary rains, the thirst
of the desert. The reign of the heavenly orbs could
not be extended beyond the visible sphere ; and some
metaphysical powers were necessary to sustain the trans¬
migration of souls and the resurrection of bodies ; a
camel was left to perish on the grave, that he might
serve his master in another life ; and the invocation of
departed spirits implies that they were still endowed
with consciousness and power. Each tribe, each fami¬
ly, each independent warrior, created and changed the
rites and the object of his fantastic worship ; but the
nation in every age, has bowed to the religion as
well as to the language of Mecca. The genuine an-
foecLba tiquity of the Caaba extends beyond the Christian era.
r temple In describing the coast of the Red sea, the Greek hi-
f Mecca, gtorian Diodorus has remarked between the Thaumau-
dites and the Sabseans, a famous temple, whose supe¬
rior sanctity was revered by (ill the Arabians : the li¬
nen or silken veil, which is annually renewed by the
Turkish emperor, was first offered by a pious king of
the Homerites, who reigned 700 years before the time
of Mahomet. A tent or a cavern might suffice for
the worship of the savages, but an edifice of stone and
clay has been erected in its place j and the art and
power of the monarchs of the east have been confined
to the simplicity of the original model. A spacious por¬
tico encloses the quadrangle of the Caaba 5 a square cha¬
pel, 24 cubits long, 23 broad, and 27 high $ a door and
a window admit the light j the double roof is supported
by three pillars of wood \ a spout (now of gold) dis¬
charges the rain water, and the well Zemzem is pro¬
tected by a dome from accidental pollution. The tribe
of Koreish, by fraud or force, had acquired the custody
of the Caaba j the sacerdotal office devolved through
four lineal descents to the grandfather of Mahomet j
and the family of the Hashemites, from whence he
fiprung, was the most respectable and sacred in the eyes
of their country. The precincts of Mecca enjoyed the
rights of sanctuary j and, in the last month of each
year, the city and the temple was crowded with a
long train of pilgrims, who presented their vows and
ofierings in the house of God. The same rites which
are now accomplished by the faithful Mussulmans were
invented and practised by the superstition of tlm idola¬
ters. At an awful distance they cast away their gar¬
ments : seven times, with hasty steps, they encircled
the Caaba, and kissed the black stone $ seven times
they visited and adored the adjacent mountains j seven
times they threw stones into the valley of Mina; and
the pilgrimage was achieved, as at the present houi,
by a sacrifice of sheep and camels, and the burial of
their hairs and nails in the consecrated ground. Each
tribe either found or introduced into the Caaba their
domestic worship j the temple was adorned or defiled
with 360 idols of men, eagles, lions, and antelopes;
and most conspicuous was the statue of Hebal, or led
agate, holding in his hand seven arrows, without heads
w feathers, the instruments and symbols of profane di¬
vination. But this statue was a monument of Syrian Arabia,
arts ; the devotion of the ruder ages was content with ‘-v——'
a pillar or a tablet; and the rocks of the desert were
hewn into gods or altars in imitation of the black
stone of Mecca, which is deeply tainted with the re- 154
proach of an idolatrous origin. From Japan to Pern, Sacrifice*
the use of sacrifice has universally prevailed ; and the and r*U;s*
votary has expressed his gratitude or fear by destroying
or consuming, in honour of the gods, the dearest and
most precious of their gifts. The life of a man is the
most precious oblation to deprecate a public calamity ;
the altars of Phoenicia and Egypt, of Rome and Car¬
thage, have been polluted with human gore, the cruel
practice was long preserved among the Arabs ; in the
third century, a boy was annually sacrificed by the
tribe of the Dumatians ; and a royal captive was pi¬
ously slaughtered by the prince of the Saracens, the
ally and soldier of the emperor Justinian. The father
of Mahomet himself was devoted by a rash vow, and
hardly ransomed for the equivalent of 100 camels. 1 he
Arabs, like the Jews and Egyptians, abstained from
the taste of swine’s flesh ; and they circumcised their
children at the age of puberty: the same customs,
without the censure or the precept of the Koran, have
been silently transmitted to their posterity and prose¬
lytes ; and it has been sagaciously conjectured, that the
artful legislator indulged the stubborn prejudices of his
countrymen. _ _ 195
“ Arabia was free : from the adjacent kingdoms, Introfinc-
which were shaken by the storms of conquest and ty-lion of the
ranny, the persecuted sects fled to the happy land where
they might profess what they thought, and practise
what they professed ; and the religions of the Sabians
and Magians, of the Jews and Christians, were disse¬
minated from the Persian gulf to the Bed sea. In
a remote period of antiquity, Sabianism was diffused
over Asia by the science of the Chaldeans and the
arms of the Assyrians. From the observations of 2000
years, the priests and astronomers of Babylon deduced
the eternal laws of nature and providence. They ado¬
red the seven gods or angels who directed the course
of the seven planets, and shed their irresistible influence
on the earth. The attributes of the seven planets,
with the twelve signs of the zodiac and the twenty-
four constellations of the northern and southern hemi¬
sphere, were represented by images and talismans ;
and seven days of the week were dedicated to their re¬
spective deities; the Sabians prayed thrice each day ;
and the temple of the moon at Haran was the term of
their pilgrimage. But the flexible genius of their faith Ip(j
was always ready either to teach or to learn. The al-TheMagi-
tars of Babylon were overturned by the Magians ; but aua.
the injuries of the Sabians were revenged by the sword
of Alexander. Persia groaned about 500 years under
a foreign yoke; and the purest disciples of Zoroaster
escaped from the contagion of idolatry, and breathed
with their adversaries the freedom of the desert. Se¬
ven hundred years before the death of Mahomet the ip7
Jews were settled in Arabia : but a far greater multi- The Jew*,
tude was expelled from the holy land im the wars oi
Titus and Hadrian. The industrious exiles aspired to
liberty and power : they erected synagogues in the
cities and castles in the wilderness ; and their Gentile
converts were confounded with the children of Israel,
whom they resembled in the outward mark of circum-
i cision».
Arabia.
19S
The Chri¬
stians,
A R A [ 526 ] A R A
fusion. The Christian missionaries were still more ac¬
tive and successful $ the Catholics asserted their univer¬
sal reign 5 the sects whom they oppressed successively
retired beyond the limits of the Roman empire ; the
Marcionites and Manichseans dispersed their fantastic
opinions and apocryphal gospels ; the churches tof Ye¬
men, and the princes of Hira and Ghassan, were in¬
structed in a purer creed by the Jacobite and Nestorian
bishops.” Such was the state of religion in Arabia
previous to the appearance of Mahomet. See N° 22.
supra.
As the Arabs are one of the most ancient nations in
the world, having inhabited the country they at present
possess almost from the deluge, without intermixing
with other nations, or being subjugated by any foreign
power, their language must have been formed soon af¬
ter, if not at, the confusion of Babel. The two princi¬
pal dialects of it were, that spoken by the Hamyarites
and other genuine Arabs, and that of the Koreish, in
which Mahomet v/rote the Koran. The first is styled by
the Oriental writers the Arabic of Hamyar, and the
other the pure or defecated. As Yarab, grandfather of
Hamyar, is supposed by the Oriental writers to have
been the first whose tongue deviated from the Syriac to
the Arabic, the Hamyaritic dialect according to them
must have approached nearer to the purity of the Sy¬
riac; and consequently have been more remote from the
true genius of the Arabic than that of any other tribe.
Ihe dialect of the Koreish, termed by the Koran the
perspicuous and clear Arabic, is referred to Ishmael as
its author j who, say the above-mentioned writers, first
spoke it 5 and, as Dr Pococke believes, after he had con¬
tracted an alliance with the family of Jorham by mar-
riage, formed it of their language and the original He¬
brew. As, therefore, the Hamyaritic dialect partook
principally of the Syriac, so that of the Koreish was
supposed to consist chiefly of the Hebrew. But, ac¬
cording to Jallalo’ddin, the politeness and elegance
of the dialect of the Koreish ought rather to be attri¬
buted to their having, from the remotest antiquity,
the custody of the Caaba, and dwelling in M^ecca the
centre of Arabia. Ihe Arabs are full of the commen¬
dations of their language, which is very harmonious,
expressive, and, as they say so immensely copious, that
no man uninspired can be a perfect master of it in its
utmost extent. How much, in this last article, it is
superior to the Greek and Latin tongues, in some
measure appears from hence, that sometimes a bare
enumeration of the Arabic names of one particular
thing, and an explication of them, will make a consi¬
derable volume. Notwithstanding this, the Arabs be¬
lieve the greatest part of their language to be lost 5
which will not seem improbable, when we consider how
late the art of writing became generally practised
among them. For though it was known to Job their
countryman, to the Edomites, as well as the other Ara¬
bian nations bordering upon Egypt and Phoenicia, and
to the Hamyarites many centuries before Mahomet, as
appears from some ancient monuments said to be re¬
maining in their character : yet the other Arabs, and
those of Mecca in particular, unless such of them as
were either Jews or Christians, were to the time of Mo-
ramer perfectly ignorant of it. It was the ancient A-
rabic language preceding the reign of Justinian, which
so nearly resembled the Ethiopic; for since that time,
and especially since the age of Mahomet, all the Arabic Ar j.
dialects have been not a little corrupted. This is now
the learned language of the Mahometans, who study it
as the European Christians do the Hebrew, Greek, and
Latin. ’
The character used by them, the most ancient of anyLet^
peculiar to the Arabs, wherein the letters were not di- *
stinctly separate, went by the appellation of Al Mos-
nad, from the mutual dependency of its letters or parts
upon one another. This was neither publicly taught,
nor suffered to be used, without permission first obtain¬
ed. Could we depend upon what Al Firauzabadius re¬
lates from Ebn Hashem, this character must have been
of a very high antiquity; since an inscription in it, ac¬
cording to the last author, wTas found in Yaman as old
as the time of Joseph. Be that as it will, Moramer
Ebn Morra of Anbar, a city of Irak, who lived not
many years before Mahomet, was the inventor of the
present Arabic character, which Bashar the Kendian,
who married the sister of Abu Sofian, is said to have
learned from the house of Anbar, and to have introdu¬
ced at Mecca but a little time before the institution of
Mahometanism. Moramer’s alphabet the Oriental au¬
thors agree to have been very different from the an-1
cient one of the Hamyarites, since they distinguish the
Hamyaritic and Arabic pens. In Mahomet’s time,
the Morameric alphabet had made so small a progress,
that no one in Yaman could either write or read it $
nay, Mahomet himself was incapable of doing either $
for which reason he was called the illiterate prophet.
The letters of this alphabet were very rude j being ei¬
ther the same with, or very much like, the Cufic,
which character is still found in inscriptions and the
titles of ancient books 5 nay, for many years, it was
the only one used by the Arabs, the Koran itself being
the first written therein. In order to perpetuate the me¬
mory of Moramer’s invention, some authors call the Ara¬
bic letters Al Moramer, i. e. the progeny of Moramer.
The most remarkable specimens of the Cufic character
(so denominated from Cufa, a city of Irak, where some
of the first copies of the Koran were written) are the
following : Part of that book in it on vellum, brought
from Egypt by Mr Greaves ; some other fragments of
the same book in it published by Sir John Chardin ;
certain passages of a MS. in the Bodelian library; the
legends on several Saracenic coins dug up not many
years ago on the coast of the Baltic, not far from Dant-
zic ; and, according to Mr Professor Hunt, those noble
remains of it that are, or were lately, to be seen in Mr
Joseph Ames’s valuable collection of antique curiosi¬
ties. As to the true origin of the ancient and modern
Arabic alphabets, we must own ourselves pretty much
in the dark. See Alphabet.
The Arabian learning may be divided into two pe- Learnic
riods, viz. Ante-Mahometan and Mahometan.
The Arab learning, in this first period, consisted,
according to Abulpharagius, in the knowledge of their
language, the propriety of discourse, the composition
of verse, and the science of the stars : but their chief
attention seems to have been directed to oratory and
poetry.
Ihe same period is more distinguished, at least
from the time of Al-Mamon, the seventh caliph of
the family of the Abassides, who flourished about the
year 820, and has the honour of being the founder of
the
A R A [- s
the modern Arabian learning. He sent for all the best
books out of Chaldea, Greece, Egypt, and Persia, re¬
lating to physic, astronomy, cosmography, music, chro¬
nology, &c. and pensioned a number of’ learned men,
skilled in the several languages and sciences, to trans¬
late them into Arabic. By this means, divers of the
Greek authors, lost in their own country and language,
have been preserved in Arabic. From that time Ara¬
bia became the chief seat of learning ; and we find men¬
tion by Abulpharagius, Pococke, D’Herbelot, and Het¬
tinger, of learned men, and books without number.
The revival of learning in the tenth century, by
Gerbert, known after his elevation to the pontificate
by the title of Silvester II. and afterwards among the
Europeans in general, may be ascribed to the instruc¬
tions and writings of the Arabian doctors and philoso¬
phers, and to the schools which they founded in seve¬
ral parts of Spain and Italy. And in the I2th centu¬
ry, the inquisitive of different countries frequented the
schools of the Saracens in Spain, and disseminated the
knowledge which they obtained there after their re¬
turn. At this time, many of the learned productions
of the Arabians were translated into Latin, which fa¬
cilitated the general progress of science.
The philosophy of the Arabians, before Mahomet,
was Sabian, and included the system and ceremonies
of that sect of idolaters. This it was that Mahomet
set himself to decry; and he is even said by some to
have carried his opposition so far, as to prohibit, if not
punish, all study of philosophy. But his followers, by
degrees, got over this restraint: the love of learning
increased 5 till, under the memorable caliphate of A1
Mamon, Aristotle’s philosophy was introduced and
established among them ; and from them propagated
with their conquests, through Egypt, Africa, Spain,
and other parts. As they chose Aristotle for their
master, they chiefly applied themselves to that part of
philosophy called logic, and thus became proficients in
the knowledge of words rather than things. Whence
they have been sometimes denominated Masters of the
wisdom of words ; sometimes the Talking sect. Their
philosophy was involved in quaint arbitrary terms and
notions, and their demonstrations drawn from thence
as from certain principles, &c. Walch. Hist. Log. lib.ii.
sec. 2. § 1.
Their physic succeeded the Grecian ; and their phy¬
sicians handed down the art to us, having made consi¬
derable improvements, chiefly in the pharmaceutical
and chemical parts.
It is certain we owe to them most of our spices and
aromatics, as nutmegs, cloves, mace, and other matters
of the produce of India. We may add, that most of
the gentler purgatives were unknown to the Greeks,
and first introduced by the Arabs, as manna, senna,
rhubarb, tamarinds, cassia, &c. They likewise brought
sugar into use in physic, where, before, only honey
was used. They also found the art of preparing wa¬
ters and oils, of divers simples, by distillation and sub¬
limation. The first notice of the smallpox and the
measles is likewise owing to them. Lastly, The resto¬
ration of physic in Europe took its rise from their
writings. M. le Clerc has given a sketch, and Dr
Freind an ample history, of the Arabian physic. We
have also a Notitia of all the Arabian physicians by Fa-
bricius.
27 ] AHA
Their poetry may be divided into two ages. The Arabia,
ancient, according to Vossius, was no other than rhym- v——v-_».
ing ; was a stranger to all measure and rule ; the ver¬
ses loose and irregular, confined to no feet, number of
syllables, or any thing else, so that they rhymed at the
end : oftentimes all the verses in the poem ended with
the same rhyme. It is in such verse that the Alcoran
is said to be written.
I he modern Arabian poetry takes its date from the
caliphate ol A1 Raschld, who lived toward the close
of the eighth century. Under him poetry became an
art, and laws of prosody were laid down. Their com¬
parisons, in which they abound, are taken, with little
choice, from tents, camels, hunting, and the ancient
manners of the Arabs. aor
I hat some of the Arabs had a good degree of know- Mecliani-
ledge in several mechanical arts, appears from Strabo,cal art?*
who informs us, that the people of Tamna and the ad¬
jacent provinces had magnificent temples, and elegant
houses, built in the Egyptian taste. The same author
likewise relates, that in Arabia Felix, besides the hus¬
bandmen, there were many artificers; and amongst
others, those who made palm wine, which he inti¬
mates, w'as much used by the Arabs. As for the ex¬
ercise of arms and horsemanship, they looked upon this
as one of their principal accomplishments, being obli¬
ged to practise and encourage it by reason of the inde¬
pendency of their tribes, whose frequent jarring made
wars almost continual amongst them, which for the most
part ended in field battles. Hence it became an usual
saying amongst them, that God had bestowed four pe¬
culiar things on the Arabs, viz. turbans instead of dia¬
dems, tents instead of walls and houses, s words instead
of mtrenchments, and poems instead of written laws.
The principal arms used by the ancient Arabs w'ere
bows and arrows, darts or javelins, and broadswords
or scimitars. The bows and arrows were the most an¬
cient of these ; being used by Ishmael himself, accord¬
ing to Scripture. It is probable also, that some of them
were acquainted with every branch of the military art
cultivated by their neighbours the Egyptians, Syrians,
and Phoenicians. 2Q2
Before the Portuguese interrupted the navigation ofCommerce,
the Red sea, the Arabs were the factors of all the trade
that passed through that channel. Aden, which is situ¬
ated at the most southern extremity of Arabia upon the
Indian ocean, was the mart in those parts. The situa¬
tion of its harbour, which opened an easy communica¬
tion with Egypt, Ethiopia, India, and Persia, had ren- *
dered it, for many ages, one of the most flourishing fac¬
tories in Asia. Fifteen years after it had repulsed the
great Albuquerque, who attempted to demolish it in
1513, it submitted to the Turks, who did not long re¬
main masters of it. The king of Yemen, who possessed
the only district in Arabia that merits the title oiHap-
py, drove them from thence, and removed the trade to
Mocha, a place in his dominions which till then was
only a village.
This trade was at first inconsiderable •, consisting
principally in myrrh, incense, aloes, balm of Mecca,
some aromatics, and medicinal drugs. These articles,
the exportation of which is continually retarded by
exorbitant imposts, and does not exceed at present
30,625!. were at that time more in repute than they
have been since j but must have been always of little
consequence3 .
A R A [ 528 ] A R A
Arabia, consequence. Soon after a great change ensued from
1 the introduction of coffee.
Though this article is generally used in the Arabian
entertainments, none but the rich citizens have the
pleasure of tasting the berry itself. The generality are
obliged to content themselves with the shell and the
husk of this valuable production. These remains, so
much despised, make a liquor of a pretty clear colour,
which has a taste of coffee without its bitterness and
strength. These articles may be had at a low price at
Betelfagui, which is the general market for them.
Here likewise is sold all the coffee which comes out of
the country by land. The rest is carried to Mocha,
which is 35 leagues distant, or to the nearer ports of
Loheia or Hodeida, from whence it is transported in
small vessels to Jodda. The Egyptians fetch it from
the last-mentioned place, and all other nations from the
former.
The quantity of coffee exported may be estimated at
twelve millions five hundred and fifty thousand weight.
The European companies take off a million and a half j
the Persians three millions and a half; the fleet from
Suez six millions and a half j Indostan, the Maldives,
and the Arabian colonies on the coast of Africa, fifty
thousand ; and the caravans a million.
As the coffee which is bought up by the caravans
and the Europeans is the best that can be procured,
it costs about S^d. a pound. The Pex-sians, who con¬
tent themselves with that of an inferior quality, pay
110 more than about 6^d. a pound. The Egyptians
purchase it at the rate of about 8d. j their cargoes
being composed partly of good and partly of bad cof¬
fee. If we estimate coffee at about 7|-d. a pound,
which is the mean price, the profits accruing to Arabia
from its annual exportation will amount to 384,343!.
15s. This money does not go into their coffers j but
it enables them to purchase the commodities brought
from the foreign markets to their ports of Jodda and
Mocha.
Mocha receives from Abyssinia, sheep, elephants
teeth, musk, and slaves. It is supplied from the eastern
coast of Africa with gold, slaves, amber, and ivory j
from the Persian gulf, with dates, tobacco, and corn $
from Surat, with a vast quantity of coarse, and a few
fine linens ; from Bombay and Pondicherry, with iron,
lead, and copper, which are carried thither from Eu¬
rope j from Malabar, with rice, ginger, pepper, Indian
saffron, with coire, cardamom, and also with planks j
from the Maldives, with gum benzoin, aloes wood, and
pepper, which these islands take in exchange; from Co¬
romandel, with 400 or 500 bales of cottons, chiefly
blue. The greatest part of these commodities, which
may fetch 262,300!. are consumed in the interior parts
of the country. The rest, particularly the cottons, are
disposed of in Abyssinia, Socotora, and the eastern coast
of Africa.
None of the branches of business which are managed
at Mocha, as well as throughout all the country of Ya-
man, or even at Sanaa the capital, are in the hands of
the natives. The extortions with which they are per¬
petually threatened by the government deter them from
interfering in them. All the warehouses are occupied
by the Banians of Surat or Guzerat, who make a point
of returning to their own country as soon as they have
made their fortunes. They then resign their settlements
to merchants of their own nation, who retire in their
turn, and are succeeded by others. - ^ ^
The European companies, who enjoy the exclusive
privilege of trading beyond the Cape of Good Hope,
formerly maintained agents at Mocha. Notwithstand¬
ing it was stipulated by a solemn capitulation, that the
imposts demanded should be rated at two and a quar¬
ter per cent, they were subject to frequent extortions :
the governor of the place insisting on their making him
presents which enabled him to purchase the favour of
the courtiers, or even of the prince himself. However,
the profits they obtained by the sale of European goods,
particularly cloths, made them submit to these repeated
humiliations. When these several articles were furnish¬
ed by Grand Cairo, it was then impossible to withstand
the competition, and the fixed settlements were therefore
given up.
The trade was carried on by ships that sailed from
Europe with iron, lead, copper, and silver, sufficient
to pay for the coffee they intended to buy. The super¬
cargoes, who had the care of these transactions, settled
the accounts every time they returned. These voyages,
which at first were pretty numerous and advantageous,
have been successively laid aside. The plantations of
coffee, made by the European nations in their colonies,
have equally lessened the consumption and the price of
that which comes from Arabia. In process of time
these voyages did not yield a sufficient profit to answer
the high charges of undertaking them on purpose.
The companies of England and France then resolved,
one of them to send ships from Bombay, and the other
from Pondicherry, to Mocha, with the merchandise of
Europe and India. They even frequently had recourse
to a method that was less expensive. The English and
French visit the Red sea every year. Though they dis¬
pose of their merchandise there to good advantage, they
can never take in cargoes from thence for their return.
They carry, for a moderate freight, the coffee belong¬
ing to the companies, who lade the vessels with it,
which they despatch from Malabar and Coromandel to
Europe. The Dutch company, who prohibit their ser¬
vants from fitting out ships, and who send no vessels
themselves to the gulf of Arabia, are deprived of the
share they might take in this branch of commerce. They
have also given up a much more lucrative branch, that
of Jodda.
Jodda is a port situated near the middle of the gulf
of Arabia, 20 leagues from Mecca. The govern¬
ment there is of a mixed kind : the grand signior and
the xeriff of Mecca share the authority and the reve¬
nue of the customs between them. These imposts are
levied upon the Europeans at the rate of 8 per cent,
and upon other nations at 13. They are always paid
in merchandise, which the managers oblige the mer¬
chants of the country to buy at a very dear rate. The
Turks who have been driven from Aden, Mocha, and
every part of Yaman, would long ago have been ex¬
pelled from Jodda, if there had not been room to ap¬
prehend that they might revenge themselves in such a
manner as to put an end to their pilgrimages and com¬
merce.
The coins which are current at Mocha, the Prin*Coj,j^
cipal port of the Red sea, are dollars of all kinds ; but^
they abate five per cent, on the pillar dollars, because
they are reckoned not to be the purest silver, and the
. dollar,
A R A [ 520 ] A R A
Arabia dollar weight with them is 17 drachms 14 grains. All
|j their coins are taken by weight, and valued according
Awcan. to their pureness. The gold coins current here are
ducats of Venice, Germany, Turkey, Egypt, &c. The
comasses are a small coin, which are taken at such a
price as the government sets on them 5 and they keep
their accounts in an imaginary coin, called cabeers, of
which 80 go to a dollar. For an account of the an¬
cient coins called dinars and dirhems, see these two
articles.
Gum ARABIC. See Gum.
ARAB1CI, a sect who sprung up in Arabia about
the year 207, whose distinguishing tenet was, that the
soul died with the body, and also arose again with it.
Eusebius, lib. vi. c. 38. relates that a council was
called to stop the progress of this rising sect j and that
Origen assisted at it, and convinced them so thorough¬
ly of their error that they abjured it.
ARABIS, Bastard Tower Mustard. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ARABISM, Arabismus, an idiom or manner of
speaking peculiar to the Arabs or the Arabic lan-
guage. .
ARABIST, a person curious of, and skilled in, the
learning and language of the Arabians : such were
Erpenius and Golius. The surgeons of the 13th cen¬
tury are called Arabists by Severinus.
ARABLE LANDS, those which are fit for tillage,
or which have been formerly tilled.
ARACAN, the capital of a small kingdom to the
north-east of the bay of Bengal, situated in E. Long.
93. c. N. Lat. 20. 30. It has the conveniency of a spa¬
cious river, and a harbour large enough to hold all the
ships in Europe. It is said by Schouten to be as large
as Amsterdam j but the houses are slight, being made
with palm trees and bamboo canes, and covered with
leaves of trees. They are seldom above six feet high,
but have many windows or air-holes. But the people
of the highest rank are much better accommodated.
They have no kitchens,, chimneys, or cellars, which
obliges the women to dress the victuals out of doors.
Some of the streets are on the ridges of rocks, where¬
in are a great many shops. Their orchards and gar¬
dens contain all the fruits common to the Indies, and
their trees are green all the year. Their common drink
is toddy •, which is the sap of the cocoa tree, and when
new, will intoxicate like wine, but soon grows sour.
Elephants and buffaloes are very numerous here, and
are made use of instead of horses. They have plenty
of provisions, and but little trade: for when Mr Char-
nock was here in 1686, with six large ships, there was
nothing to be had in the way of commerce; and yet
the country produces lead, tin, stick lac, and elephants
teeth. The Mogul’s subjects come here to purchase
these commodities j and sometimes meet with diamonds,
rubies, and other precious stones. They were former¬
ly governed by a king of their own, called the king of
the White Elephant; but this country has been con¬
quered by the k5ng of Pegu. They pay little or no
regard to the chastity of their women, and the common
sailors take great liberties among them. Uheir reli¬
gion is Paganism ; and the idols, temples, and priests
are very numerous. The dress of the better sort is
very slight, for it consists chiefly of a piece of white
cotton over their arms, breast, and belly, with an apron
Vol. II Part II. *
before. The complexion of the women is tolerable :
they wear thin flowered gauze over their breast and
shoulders, and a piece of cotton, which they roll three
or four times round their waist, and let it hang as low
as their feet. They curl their hair, and put glass rings
in their ears, and stretch them of a monstrous length.
On their arms and legs they have hoops of copper,
ivory, silver, &e. The country produces great quan¬
tities of rice, and the water is good. Their flocks of
sheep and herds of cattle are also numerous near Ara-
can \ but what they say of the towns and villages, with
which the country is pretended to be overspread, may
be doubted. Captain Hamilton affirms, that there are
but few places inhabited, on account of the great num¬
ber of wild elephants and buffaloes, which would de¬
stroy the fruits of the ground j and that the tigers
would destroy the tame animals. There are some
villages near the sea, inhabited by a few miserable fish¬
ermen, who can just keep themselves from starving,
though they are out of the reach of oppression. The
rich burn the dead bodies •, but the poor, who are not
able to buy wood, throw them into the river.
ARACHIS, See Botany Index.
ARACHNE, in fabulous history, a young maid of
Lydia, said to have been the inventress of spinning.
She is fabled to have been so skilful in this art, as to
challenge Minerva at it $ who tore her work, and
struck her, which disgrace driving her to despair, she
hanged herself. Minerva from compassion brought
her to life, and transformed her into a spider, which still
employs itself in spinning.
ARACHNOfDES, in Anatomy, an appellation
given to several membranes $ as the tunic of the cry¬
stalline humour of the eye, the external lamina of the
pia mater, and one of the coverings of the spinal mar¬
row.
ARACK, Arrack, or Rack, a spirituous liquor
imported from the East Indies, used by way of dram
and in punch.
The word arack, according to Mr Lockyer, is an
Indian name for strong waters of all kinds j for they
call our spirits and brandy English arack. But what
we understand by the name arack, he affirms, is really
no other than a spirit procured by distillation from a
vegetable juice called toddy, which flows by incision out
of the cocoa-nut tree, like the birch juice procured
among us. The toddy is a pleasant drink by itself,
when new, and purges those who are not used to it:
and, when stale, it is heady, and makes good vinegar.
The English at Madras use it as leaven to raise their
bread with.
Others are of opinion, that the arack, or arrack, is a
vinous spirit obtained by distillation, in the East Indies,
from rice or sugar, fermented with the juice of cocoa
nuts.
The Goa arrack is said to be made from the toddy,
the Batavia arack from rice and sugar $ and there is
likewise a kind of shrub from which arack is made.
Goa and Batavia are the chief places for arack. At
Goa there are divers kinds: single, double, and treble
distilled. The double distilled, which is that common¬
ly sent abroad, is but a weak spirit in comparison with
Batavia arack ; yet, on account of its peculiar and
agreeable flavour, is preferred to all the other aracks
of India. This flavour is attributed to the earthen ves-
3 X sels
A R A
r 530 ]
A R A
Arack. ?els which they use at Goa to draw the spirit 5 where-
—-v-"1--' as at Batavia tliey use copper stills. ;
TheParier arack made at Madras, and the Columho
and Quilone arrack at other places, being fiery hot spi¬
rits, are little valued by the Europeans, and therefore
rarely imported ; though highly prized among the na¬
tives. In the best Goa arack, the spirits of the cocoa
juice do not make above a sixth or eighth part.
The manner of making the Goa arack is this : The
juice of the trees is not procured in the way of tapping
as we do j but the operator provides himself with a
parcel of earthen pots, with bellies and necks like our
ordinary bird bottles: he makes fast a number of these
to his girdle, and any way else that he commodiously
can about him. Thus equipped, he climbs up the
trunk of a cocoa tree ; and when he comes to the
boughs, he takes out his knife, and cutting off one of
the small knots or buttons, he applies the mouth of
the bottle to the wound, fastening it to the bough with
a bandage; in the same manner he cuts off’ other but¬
tons, and fastens on his pots, till the whole number is
used : this is done in the evening, and descending from
the tree, he leaves them till the next morning ; when
he takes off the bottles, which are mostly filled, and
empties the juice into the proper receptacle. This is
repeated every night, till a sufficient quantity is produ¬
ced ; and the whole being then put together, is left to
ferment, which it soon does. When the fermentation
is over, and the liquor or wash is become a little tart,
it is put into the still, and a fire being made, the still is
suffered to work as long as that which comes over has
any considerable taste of spirit.
The liquor thus procured is the low wine of arack 5
and this is so poor a liquor, that it will soon corrupt
and spoil if not distilled again, to separate some of its
phlegm ; they therefore immediately after pour back
this low wine into the still, and rectify it to that very
weak kind of proof spirit, in which state we find it.
The arack we meet with, notwithstanding its being of
a proof test, according to the way of judging by the
crown of bubbles, holds but a sixth, and sometimes but
an eighth part of alcohol, or pure spirit j whereas our
other spirits, when they show that proof, are generally
esteemed to hold one half pure spirit. Shaw's Essay
on Distilling.
There is a paper of observations on arack, in the Me¬
langes cPHistoire Natur. tom. v. p. 302. By ferment¬
ing, distilling, and rectifying the juice of the American
maple, which has much the same taste as that of the
cocoa, the author says, he made arack not in the least
inferior to any that comes from the East Indies j and
he thinks the juice of the sycamore and of the birch
tree would equally answer the end.
Besides the common sorts of Goa and Batavia arack,
there are two others less generally known ; these are
the bitter arack and the black arack.
By stat. nth Geo. I. c. 30. arack, on board a ship
within the limits of any port of Great Britain, may he
searched for and seized, together with the package; or
if found unshipping or unshipped, before entry, may be
seized by the officers of excise, in like manner as by the
officers of the customs.—Upon an excise officer’s suspi¬
cion of the concealment of arack, and oath made of the
grounds of such suspicion before the commissioners or a
justice of peace, they may empower him to enter such
suspected places, and seize the liquors, with the casks, ^racj(
&c. If the officers are obstructed, the penalty is look jj
Arack is not to be sold but in warehouses, entered as Arad us.
directed in the 6th of Geo. I. c. 21. upon forfeiture,
and the casks, &c. If permits are not returned which
are granted for the removal of arack, or if the goods
are not sent away within the time limited, the penalty
is treble the value. If the permits are not returned,
and the decrease is not found to be sufficient, the like
quantity is forfeited. Permits are not to be taken
out but by direction in writing of the proprietor of the
stock, or his known servant, upon forfeiture of 50I. or
three months imprisonment.
By stat. pth Geo. II. c. 35. if arack is offered to sale
without a permit, or by any hawker, pedlar, <&c. with
a permit, the person to whom it is offered may seize
and carry it to the next warehouse belonging to the
customs or excise, and bring the person offering the
same before any justice of the peace, to be committed
to prison, and prosecuted for the penalties incurred by
such oflence. The person seizing such goods may pro¬
secute in his own name} and on recovery is entitled to
one-third part of the gross produce of the sale } and the
commissioners are, if desired, upon a certificate from
the justice of the offender’s being committed to prison,
to advance to the seizer 15s. per gallon for the arack
so seized.
Arack (except for the use of seamen, two gallons
each) found in any ship or vessel arriving from foreign
parts, at anchor, or hovering within the limits of any
port, or within two leagues of the shore, and not pro¬
ceeding on her voyage (unless in case of unavoidable
necessity and distress of weather, notice whereof must
be given to the collector or chief officer of the port up¬
on the ship’s arrival), is forfeited, with the boxes, casks,
or other package, or the value thereof.
Arack is also the name of a spirituous liquor made
by the Tartars of Tungusia, of mares milk, left to sour,
and afterwards distilled twice or thrice between two
earthen pots closely stopped, whence the liquor runs
through a small wooden pipe. It is more intoxicating
than brandy.
ARAD, in Ancient Geography, a city lying to the
south of Judah and the land of Canaan, in Arabia Pe-
trEea. The Israelites having advanced towards the
land of Canaan (Numb. xxi. 1.), the king of Arad
opposed their passage, defeated them, and took a great
booty from them } but they destroyed his country as
soon as they became masters of the land of Canaan
(Numb, xxxiii.). Arad was rebuilt, and Eusebius
places it in the neighbourhood of Kades, at the di¬
stance of 20 miles from Hebron. The Israelites in
their passage through the wilderness, having departed
from Sepher, came to Arad, and from thence to Mak-
kelath.
ARADUS, in Ancient Geography, an island be¬
tween the borders of Phoenicia and Seleucia, at the
distance of 20 stadia from a dangerous coast : all of it
a rock surrounded by the sea, in compass seven stadia}
and forming a very powerful city and republic. It is
now called Ronad; but not a single wall is remaining
of all that multitude of houses which, according to
Strabo, were built with more stories than even those
of Rome. The liberty enjoyed by the inhab'tants had
rendered it very populous} and it subsisted by naval
commerce.
ABA [ 531 ] ABA
4radus commerce, manufactures, and arts. At present the
y island is deserted •, nor has tradition even retained the
ricoiue- memory of a spring of fresh water in its environs,
te^ which the people of Aradus discovered at the bottom
1J of the sea, and from which they drew water in time of
war by means of a leaden bell and a leathern pipe fit¬
ted to its bottom.
ARiE Phil^non, or PhiljENOrum (Strabo) 5 to
the south of the Syrtis Major $ but in Peutinger more
westerly, to the south almost of the Syrtis Minor. In
Strabo’s time, the altars were not extant, but a village
of the same name stood on the spot. On a dispute
about limits, between the Cyreneans and Carthagini¬
ans, it was agreed that two of each people should set
out on the same day, and that where they should hap¬
pen to meet, there the limits of both should be fixed.
The Philmni, two brothers, Carthaginians, undertook
it for Carthage : these, after having advanced a great
many miles into the territory of the Cyreneans, were
met by their antagonists j who, enraged at their be¬
ing beforehand with them so far, gave them the option
of either returning back, or of being buried alive on
the spot. Like zealous patriots, they chose the lat¬
ter j and there the Carthaginians raised two altars
in honour of the Philseni. (Sallust, Valerius Maxi¬
mus).
ARAEOMETER, an instrument to measure the
density or gravity of fluids.
The araeometer, or waterpoise, is usually made of
glass 5 consisting of a round hollow ball, which termi¬
nates in a long slender neck hermetically sealed at top :
there being first as much running mercury put into it
as will serve to balance or keep it swimming in an erect
position.
The stem is divided into degrees (as represented
Plate XXXVI. fig. 23.) ; and by the depth of its de¬
scent into any liquor, the lightness of that liquor is con¬
cluded : for that fluid in which it sinks least must be
heaviest ; and that in which it sinks lowest lightest.
Mr Homberg has invented an araeometer, described
in Phil. Transact. N° 262. thus : J is a glass bottle
or matrass, with so slender a neck that a drop of wa¬
ter takes up in it above five or six lines, or half of an
inch. Near that neck is a small capillary tube D,
about six inches long, and parallel to the neck.—To
fill the vessel, the liquor is poured in at the mouth B
(which is widened to receive a tunnel), till it run out
at D, that is, till it rise in the neck to the mark C, by
which means you have always the same bulk or quan¬
tity of liquor j and consequently, by means of the ba¬
lance, can easily tell, when different liquors fill it, which
weighs most, or is most intensely heavy.
Some regard, however, is to be had in these trials
to the season of the year, and degree of heat and cold
in the weather j because some liquors rarefy with beat
and condense with cold more than others, and accord¬
ingly take up more or less room.
By means of this instrument, the ingenious author
has made a table to show the different weights of the
same bulk of the most considerable chemical liquors
both in summer and winter as follows :
Weighed in summer. In winter.
The araeometer full of o-z. dr. gr. 0%. dr. gr.
Quicksilver, - nooc6 - 110032
Oil of tartar, - 01 03 08 - ox 03 13
The araeometer full of
Oil of vitriol,
Spirit of nitre,
Spirit of salt,
Aquafortis,
Vinegar,
Spirit of wine,
River water,
Distilled water
Weighed in summer.
055. dr. gr.
01 03 58
01 01 40
01 00 39
01 01 38
00 07 55
00 06 47
00 07 53
00 07 50
In winter.
oz. dr. gr.
01 04 03
01 01 70
01 00 47
01 01 57
00 07 65
00 06 60
00 07 51
00 07 54
Araeome¬
ter
Aral,
The instrument itself weighed, when empty, one drachm
twenty-eight grains. See Hydrometer in this work,
and Araeometer in the Supplement.
ARAEOPAGUS. See Areopagus.
ARAEOSTYLE, in Architecture, a term used by
Vitruvius, to signify the greatest interval which can be
made between columns.
ARAE01TCS, in Medicine, remedies which rarefy
the humours, and render them easy to be carried off by
the pores of the skin.
ARAF, among the Mahometans. See Alaraf.
ARAFAH, the ninth day of the last month of the
Arabic year, named Dhoulhegiat; on which the pil¬
grims of Mecca perform their devotions on a neigh¬
bouring mountain called Arafat. The Mahometans
have a very great veneration for this mountain, be¬
cause they believe that Adam and Eve, after they
were banished out of Paradise, having been separated
from each other during 120 years, met afterwards on
this mountain.
•ARAFAT, or Gibel EL Orphat, the mountain of
knowledge, a mountain in Arabia near Mecca. The
Mahometans say this was the place where Adam first
met with and knew his wife Eve after their expulsion
from Paradise. This mountain not being large enough
to contain all the devotees that come annually in piU
grimage to Mecca, stones are set up all round it to
show how far it reaches. The pilgrims are clad in
robes of humility and montification, with their heads
uncovered. They seem to be very much affected ; for
the tears flow down their cheeks, and they sob and
sigh most bitterly, begging earnestly for remission of
sins, and promising to lead a new life. They continue
here about four or five hours, aud at half an hour af¬
ter sunset they all decamp to perform a religious duty
called Asham nomac. After this, they all receive the
honourable title of hadgees, which is conferred upon
them by the imam or priest. This being pronounced,
the trumpet sounds, and they all return to Mecca.
ARAGON. See Arragon.
ARAL, a great lake in the kingdom of Khowa-
razm, lying a little to the eastward of the Caspian
sea. Its length from north to south is said to be near
150 miles, and its breadth from east to west about ~o.
The shore on the west side is high and rocky, and de¬
stitute of good water: yet there are abundance ol wild
horses, asses, antelopes, ana wolves j as also a fierce
creature called a jolbart, which the Tartars say is of
such a prodigious strength as to carry off a horse. It
is surprising that this lake should be quite unknown to
geographers till within these few years. Several great
rivers, which were supposed to run into the Caspian
sea, are now known to fall into this lake, particulaiiy
the Sihun or Sirr, and the Ghihun or Amo, so often
2X2 mentioned
A R A ' [ 532 ] A R A
Aral mentioned by the Oriental historians. This lake, like
I) the Caspian sea, has no visible outlet. Its water is also
Aiaiijucz. very sa]t. anj for reason is conveyed by the neigh¬
bouring inhabitants by small narrow canals into sandy
pits, where the heat of the sun, by exhaling the water,
leaves them a sufficient quantity of salt. The same
kinds of fish are found in the Aral that are found in
the Caspian sea. The former is also called the Lake of
Eagles.
ARAHUM, or Harahum, in ancient writers, de¬
notes a place consecrated or set apart for holy purposes.
Hence the phrase in araho jurare, or conjurare, “ to
make oath in the church j” because, by the Ripuarian
laws, all oaths were to be taken in the church on the
relicks of the saints.
ARALIA, the Angelica Tree. See Botany
Index.
ARAM, or Arameea Rcg/o, in Ancient Geography^
the Hebrew name of Syria, so called from Aram the
son of Shem, (Moses, Josephus).
Aram Bet/i-Rehob, in Ancient Geography, was that
part of Syria lying to the north of Palestine j because
liehob was its boundary towards that quarter, (Mo¬
ses) ; allotted to the tribe of Asher, (Judges) 5 where
it joins Sidon, (Joshua).
ARAM-Dammasek, or Syria Damascena, in Ancient
Geography, a principal part of Syria, and more power¬
ful than the rest (2 Sam.), taking its name from Da¬
mascus, the principal city.
ARAM-Maacha, in Ancient Geography, a district of
Syria, at the foot of Mount Hermon, (2 Samuel,
1 Chronicles) $ on the borders of the half tribe of Ma-
nasseh, on the other side the Jordan, called the coast
of Maachathi, (Moses, Joshua).
Aram-Naharaim, in Ancient Geography, i. e. Aram
or Syria of the Rivers, or Mesopotamia, situated be¬
tween the Euphrates and Tigris j which is the reason
of the name.
ARAM-Soba or Zoba, in Ancient Geography, which
David conquered, was a country near the Euphrates,
where afterwards Palmyra stood: the Euphrates bound¬
ed it on the east, as the land of Canaan and Syria Da-
niascena did on the west, (2 Samuel).
ARAMONT, a town of Languedoc in France,
seated on the river Rhone. E. Long. 4. 52. N. Lat.
43- 54-
ARANEA, the Spider. See Entomology In¬
dex.
ARANJUEZ, a town in the province of New Ca¬
stile, where the king of Spain has a palace and gar¬
dens which are reckoned the most delightful in the
world.
This place is 20 miles from Madrid, by a noble
road, planted on each side with trees, lately made at
the expence of 120,000k sterling. It is delightfully
situated at the conflux of the rivers Tagus and Jara-
ma j which run through the gardens, and add new
beauty to this charming spot, where art and nature seem
to go hand in hand with the most pleasing and rural
simplicity. On one side fine avenues of stately oaks
and lofty elms convey the truest ideas of magnificence,
while they afford the most reviving shade ; on the
other, the sudden transitions to lawns and wilderness,
the cascades of water breaking through the thickets, the
tuneful songs of numberless birds sheltered in these
2
cool recesses, the occasional appearance and passage of
the monarch attended by the grandees of his kingdom j
all these objects united, and concentred in one point,
fill the imagination with pleasing ideas, and impress
the mind of a traveller with a thousand agreeable sen¬
sations.
The general situatloh is in a very large plain sur¬
rounded with large hills, of a most disagreeable aspect
indeed, but seldom appearing, being well hidden by
the noble rows of trees that extend across the flat in
every direction. The main body of the palace is an
old building, to which have been lately added two
new wings. The first part of the building was erected
by Philip II. who purchased the estate, planted many
of the avenues, and, in order to extend his chase, or
to indulge his splenetic disposition, had all the vines
that grew on the hills rooted up. By that means he
drove away the inhabitants, and rendexed the environs
of his villa a perfect desert.—The apartments are good 5
but contain nothing very particular to take off from
the enjoyment of so many fine objects abroad. In one
of the new wings is a playhouse, and in the other a cha¬
pel. Part of the ceiling of the former was painted by
Mengs, who was also sent to Rome to paint a holy fa¬
mily for the principal altar in the chapel. There are
seven fine pictures of Luca Jordano in the apartment
called El Cabinete Antiguo, and six others in that De
los Mayordomos. The portraits of the grand duke and
duchess of Tuscany, by Mengs, are in a new apart¬
ment, called the king's dressing-room. In the chapel,
over the great altar, there is a fine picture of the An¬
nunciation, by Titian, presented by him to Charles Y.
and brought from the convent of Juste, after the death
of that emperor. The porcelain cabinet, where there
are several large pieces of the king’s own manufacture,
is also an object of curiosity to a traveller.
As to the gardens, the whole of them may be
thrown into three grand divisions, distinguished by the
names of La Huerta Valenciana, Los Deleites, and El
Cortijo. In the Huerta Valenciana, agriculture and
gardening are carried on in the same manner as in that
fruitful province, and they plough w'ith horses. In the
Cortijo they use oxen, as in Andalusia; and in other
places they scratch up the ground with mules, as is
still practised in some parts of Spain. Whichever way
one looks round, a constant variety pleases the eye,
and enraptures the mind. At one moment the sturdy
buffalo moves before you, drawing his heavy burden j
soon after, the slow camel, with bis ponderous load j
while the swift zebra with his striped garment frisks
over the plains. If you approach the farm, every ob¬
ject of convenience is consulted, and in the dairy every
degree of neatness. The Dutch cow enjoys a luxuri¬
ant pasture, the brood mares greatly enliven the land¬
scape, and the stables are filled with the most excellent
horses j and an immense nursery furnishes all manner
of trees and plants. The fine avenue, which serves also
for a public walk, called Calle de Reyna, has nothing
equal to it at Versailles. It is three miles long, quite
straight from the palace gate, crossing the Tagus twice
before it loses itself in the thickets, where some noble
spreading elms and weeping poplars hang beautifully
over the deep still pool. Near this road is a flower
garden for the spring, laid out with great taste by Mr
Wall during his ministry. The gay variety of flowers
at
Aranjae
A R A [ 533 J A R A
at this time of year is particularly pleasing to the eye;
but its beauty soon fades on the approach of summer.
As the weather grows hot, the company that choose
to walk, retire to a garden in an island of the Tagus,
on the north side of the palace. This is a heavenly
place, cut into various walks and circular lawns, which
in their primitive state may have been very stiff’ and
formal : but in the course of a century, Nature has
obliterated the regular forms of art; the trees have
swelled out beyond the line traced for them, and de¬
stroyed the enfilade by advancing into the walks or re¬
tiring from them. The sweet flowering shrubs, in¬
stead of being clipped and kept down, have been al¬
lowed to shoot up into trees, and hang over the statues
and fountains they were originally meant to serve as
humble fences to. The jets-d’eau dash up among the
trees, and add fresh verdure to the leaves. The ter¬
races and balustrades built along the river, are now
overgrown with roses, and other luxuriant bushes,
hanging down into the stream, which is darkened by
the large trees growing on the opposite banks. Many
of the statues, groupes, and fountains, are handsome,
some masterly, the works of Algardi : all are placed
in charming points of view, either in open circular spots,
at a distance from the trees, or else in gloomy arbours,
and retired angles of the wood. The banks of this
wood, called the Ila, are also enlivened by elegant yachts
for the amusement of the royal family.
The town or village formerly consisted of the pa¬
lace, its offices, and a few miserable huts, where the
ambassadors, and the attendants of the court, endea¬
voured to lodge themselves as well as they could, but
always very uncomfortably ; many of the habitations
were vaults half under ground. What determined the
king to build a new town, and to embellish the envi¬
rons, was an accident that happened at the nuncio’s;
a coach broke through the ceiling of his dining-room,
and fell in upon the table. The court then began to
apply very considerable sums to the purpose of erecting
proper dwellings for the great number of persons that
flock to the place where the sovereign resides ; near
10,000 are supposed to live here two or three months
in spring; the king keeps 115 sets of mules, which re¬
quire a legion of men to take care of them. Above a
million sterling has been laid out at Aranjuez since
the year 1763; and it must be acknowledged, that
wonders have been performed: several fine streets drawn
in straight lines with broad pavements, a double row
of trees before the houses, and a very noble road in
the middle ; commodious hotels lor the ministers and
ambassadors; great squares, markets, churches, a thea¬
tre, and an amphitheatre for bull feasts, have been
raised from the ground ; besides the accession of two
new wings to the palace. Neatness and convenience
have been more studied and sought for than show in
the architecture, but altogether the place has something
truly magnificent in the coup d’ceil.
ARAR, (Caesar, Strabo) ; Aran's, (Dio Cassius) ;
Saucona, (Ammian) : A river of Celtic Gaul, now
the Saone ; which rises out of Mount Vogesus on the
confines of Lorrain, runs through the Franche Comte
and Burgundy, and below Lyons falls into the Rhone.
It is so incredibly slow, that the eye cannot distinguish
which way it moves, (Caesar) ; and therefore Pliny
calls it the Sluggish river. Its course is from north to
south. It is famous for a bridge of Ctesar, which was ^rar
built by the soldiers in one day. It is navigable equally Ararat,
with the Rhone.
ARARAT, the name of the mountain on which
Noah’s ark rested, after the abatement of the waters-
of the universal deluge. Concerning this mountain
there are various conjectures though it is almost uni¬
versally allowed to be in Armenia Major. Some are
of opinion that it is one of the mountains which divide
Armenia on the south from Mesopotamia and that part
of Assyria inhabited by the Curds ; from whom these'
mountains took the name of Curdu or Cardu, by the
Greeks turned into Gordifcei, &c. Others, that it lies
towards the middle of Armenia, near the river Araxes,
above 280 miles distant from the above mentioned
mountains, making it belong to Mount Taurus; but the
Armenians are positive that Noah’s Ararat is no other
than a mountain to which they now give the name of
Musis, which lies about 12 leagues to the east of Eri-
van, and four leagues from the Aras. It is encompas¬
sed by several petty hills: on the tops of them are found
many ruins, thought to have been the buildings of the
first men, who were, for some time, afraid to descend
into the plains. It stands by itself, in form of a sugar-
loaf, in the midst of a very large plain, detached, as it
were, from the other mountains of Armenia, which
make a long chain. It consists, properly speaking, of
two hills; the lesser of which is the more sharp and
ponted : the higher, on which it is said the ark rested,
lies to the north-west of it, and rises far above the
neighbouring mountains. It seems so high and bigy.
that, when the air is clear, it may be seen four or five,
days journey oft'; yet travellers think the height is not
extraordinary. Chardin is of opinion that he passed a
part of Mount Caucasus which is higher ; and Foul let
thinks the height of Mount Masis, or Ararat, not above
twice as great as that of Mount Valerian near Paris.
They therefore think that its being visible at such a
great distance is owing to its lonely situation in a vast
plain, and upon the most elevated part of the country,
without any mountains before it to obstruct the view.
Nor is the snow with which it is always covered from,
the middle upwards any argument of its height ; for
in this country, ice hath often been observed in the
mornings of the middle of July. (See Armenia).
Certain it is, however, that this mountain hath never
yet been ascended; which the Armenians pretend was
owing to the interposition of angels, in order to disap¬
point the curiosity of those who wanted to advance to "
such a sacred place as that whereon the ark.rested: but
the excess of cold may very reasonably be supposed
able to frustrate all such attempts, without any super¬
natural interposition. The most distinct account we
have of this mountain is that given by M. Journefort :
which, however, being much swelled with immaterial
circumstances, it is needless to trouble our readers witfr
at length. He tells us, that this mountain is one-
of the most disagreeable sights upon earth, without
either houses, convents, trees, or shrubs ; and seems as
if continually wasting and mouldering away. He di¬
vides it into three regions r The lowermost, he says, is
the only one which contains any human creatures, and
is occupied by a few miserable shepherds that tend scab¬
by flocks ; and here are also found some partridges:
the second is inhabited by crows and tigers ; and all.
ABA L 534 J ABA
Ararat the rest is covered with snow, which half the year is
I! involved in thick clouds. On the side of the moun-
Araius. ]00ks towards Erivan is a prodigious preci-
v"~ pice, from whence rocks of an immense size are con¬
tinually tumbling down with a hideous noise. This
precipice seems quite perpendicular j and the extremi¬
ties are rough and blackish, as if smutted with smoke.
The soil of the mountain is loose, and on the sandy
parts it is impossible to take a firm step j so that our
traveller encountered great difficulties in his ascent and
descent of this mountain ; being often obliged, in or
der to avoid the sand, to betake himself to places
where great rocks were heaped on one another, under
which he passed as through caverns, or to places full
of stones, where he wras forced to leap from one stone
to another. If we may believe Struys, a Dutch writ¬
er, however, all these difficulties may be surmounted.
He assures us, he went five days journey up Mount A-
rarat, to see a Romish hermit: that he passed through
three regions of clouds ; the first dark and thick, the
next cold and full of snow, and the third colder still j
that he advanced five miles every day 5 and when he
came to the place where the hermit had his cell, he
breathed a very serene and temperate air j that the
hermit told him, that he perceived neither wind nor
rain all the 25 years he had dwelt there j and that on
the top of the mountain there reigned a still greater
tranquillity, whereby the ark was preserved uncorrupt¬
ed. He farther pretends, that the hermit gave him a
cross made out of the wood of the ark, together with a
certificate ; a formal copy of which the author has given
in his sham relation.
ARASSI, a maritime, populous, and trading town
of Italy, in the territory of Genoa. E. Long. 7. 20.
N. Lat. 44. 3.
ARATEIA, in antiquity, a yearly festival celebra¬
ted at Sicyon, on the birth day of Aratus, wherein
divers honours were paid by a priest consecrated to this
service, who for distinction’s sake wore a ribband be¬
spangled with white and purple spots. The Arateia
were solemnized with much pomp of music, the chorist¬
ers of Bacchus attending.
ARATUS, general of the Achseans, conquered
Nicocles tyrant of Sicyon. Two years after he sur¬
prised the castle called Acrocorinthus, and drove out
the king of Macedonia : he delivered Argos from its
tyrants, and was poisoned by Philip II. king of Ma¬
cedonia, whom he had newly restored. He was about
62 when he died, the second year of the 141st Olym¬
piad. He was interred at Sicyon, and received the
greatest honours from his countrymen. His son, who
had also been prsetor, was poisoned by King Philip.
Polybius gives .us so great a character of Aratus the
father’s Commentaries or History, that the loss of so
valuable a wrork is highly to be regretted.
Aratus, a Creek poet, born at Soli, or Solse, a
town in Cilicia, which afterwards changed its name,
and was called Pompeiopolis, in honour of Pompey the
Great. He flourished about the 124th, or according
to some, the 126th Olympiad, in the reign of Ptole¬
my Phiiadelphus king of Egypt. He discovered in
his youth a remarkable poignancy of wit, and capacity
for improvement; and having received his education
under Dionysius Heracleotes, a Stoic philosopher, he
espoused the principles of that sect. Aratus was phy¬
sician to Antigonus Gonatus, the son of Demetrius ^ratlis
Poliorcetes, king of Macedon : this prince being a ||
great encourager of learned men, sent for him to court, Ara*es.
admitted him to his intimacy, and encouraged him in
his studies. The Fhcenomena of Aratus, which is still
extant, gives him a title to the character of an astro¬
nomer as well as a poet j in this piece he describes the
nature and motion of the stars, and shows the particular
influences of the heavenly bodies, with their various dis¬
positions and relations. He wrote this poem in Greek
verse : it was translated into Latin by Cicero} who tells
us, in his first book De Oratore, that the verses of Ara¬
tus are very noble. This piece was translated by others
as well as Cicero } there being a tx-anslation by Germa-
nicus Caesar, and another into elegant verse by Festus
Avienus. An edition of the Phcenomena was published
by Grotius, at Leyden, in quarto, 1600, in Greek
and Latin with the fragments of Cicero’s version,
and the translations of Germanicus and Avienus; all
which the editor has illustrated with curious notes.
He was certainly much esteemed by’ the ancients, since
we find so great a number of scholiasts and commenta¬
tors upon him. There are several other w'orks also
ascribed to Aratus. Suidas mentions the following:
Hymns to Pan ; Astrology and Astrothesy } a compo¬
sition ot Antidotes } an E5r<5t/r<*fl> on Theopropus } an
HQottoix on Antigonus ; an Epigram on Phila, the daugh¬
ter of Antipater, and wife of Antigonus } an Epice-
dium of Cleombrotus } a Correction of the Odyssey}
and some Epistles in prose. Virgil, in his Georgies,
has imitated or translated many passages from this
author } and St Paul has quoted a passage of Aratus.
It is in his speech to the Athenians (Acts xvii. 28.)
wherein he tells them, that some of their own poets
have said, Toy yx% kxi ysves trfctv : “ For wre are also his
offspring.” These words are the beginning of the fifth
line of the Phcenomena of Aratus.
ARAVA, a fortress of Upper Hungary, on a river of
the same name. E. Long. 20. o. N. Lat. 47. 20.
ARAUCO, a fortress and town of Chili, in South
America } situated in a fine valley, on a river of the
same name. The bravery of the natives drove the
Spaniards out of their country even without fire arms.
W. Long. 73. 20. S. Lat. 38. 10. See Araucania,
Supplement.
ARAUSIO, or Civitus Arausiensis, or Arausico-
rum (Notitiee) } Colonia Sccnndanorum (Mela, Pliny,
Coins') } so called, because the veterans of the second
legion were there settled : The capital of the Cavares,
in Gallia Narbonensis. Now Orange, in the west of
Provence, on an arm of the rivulet Egue, which soon
after falls into the Rhone, from which it is distant a
league to the east, at the foot of a mountain. Here is
an ancient amphitheatre to be still seen. E. Long. 4.
46. N. Lat. 44. 10.
ARAW, a town of Swisserland, in Argow, seated
on the river Aar. It is handsome, large, and remark¬
able for its church, its fountain, and the fertility of the
soil. E. Long. 8. o. N. Lat. 47. 25.
ARAXES, now the Aras, a river of Armenia
Major, which takes its rise in a mountain called Ablos,
where the Euphrates also hath its origin. From this
mountain it runs eastward with a serpentine course, dis¬
charging itself into the Caspian sea, after a run of up-
wards of 50c miles, during which it receives some con¬
siderable
A R E [ 53
siderable rivers. Some have imagined that it hath its
rise in Mount Ararat; but Tournefort assures us that
it conies no nearer that mountain than 12 miles. The
Araxes is a very rapid river, and is supposed to be the
Gihon mentioned by Moses. Besides this extreme ra¬
pidity, it is very apt to overflow after rains j so that
they have in vain endeavoured to build bridges over
it j though some of them appear, from the few arches
remaining, to have been built of the best materials,
and in the strongest manner. Such is the vehemence
of its current after the thawing of the adjacent snows,
or some fierce rains, that neither banks nor dikes can
resist it; so that nothing can be more terrible than the
noise and violence of its waves at such times : but in
winter, when its waters are low, it is fordable in some
places on camels.
ARBA, in Ancient Geography, an island and city
of Illyria, now Arbe, in the gulf of Quarnaro. Of
this island, which has been but slightly noticed by
geographers, we have the following description by the
abbe Fortis.
In the Roman times, it is probable that there were
no other cities in Arbe but that which bears the name
of the island, in the neighbourhood of which ancient
monuments are frequently dug up.
This city of Arbe, though the capital of a small
island, not above thirty miles round, wholly unculti¬
vated, and uninhabitable in the highest part that faces
the channel of Morlacca, has always maintained itself
with decorum. That it was inhabited by civilized peo¬
ple in the Roman times, is evident, by the inscriptions
that have been frequently discovered there, and others
still remaining at Arbe. In the lower times it suffered
all the calamities to which the neighbouring countries
were subjected, but it always x-ecovered itself with ho¬
nour even after dissolution.
The archives of the community of Arbe contain
some ancient papers that are truly valuable, and they
are kept with great jealousy j by them it appears, that
in the eleventh century, gold and silk were not rare
among the inhabitants. Arbe was subject to the kings
of Hungary j afterwards it became dependent on Ve¬
netian feudatories j and at last was taken under the im¬
mediate dominion of the most serene republic, by which
a governor is appointed who has the title of count and
captain. The number of people on the' island does
not much exceed three thousand souls, distributed in
a few parishes, which might be officiated by a small
number of priests: Yet, through a monstrous incon¬
sistency that falls very heavy on the poor inhabitants,
they have to maintain no less than three convents of
friai's, and as many of nuns, besides the considerable
charge of near sixty priests, who have a very scanty
provision.
The climate of Arbe is none of the happiest; the
winter season is horrid, especially when agitated by the
violent northerly winds, which sometimes transform
the intermediate seasons into winter, and cause the sum¬
mer itself to disappear. These furious winds do great
damage to the island, particularly in the winter and
spring. Two years ago, about twelve thousand sheep
perished in one night, of cold, in the common pas¬
tures of the mountain ; where, accortfing to the cus¬
tom over all Dalmatia, they are left in the open air the
whole year round. The salt fog raised by the dread-
5 ] ARB
ful commotion of the waves, which often roar between
the mountains of Arbe and the opposite Alps, in the
narrow channel of Morlacca, consumes all the buds of
the plants and coni, if it happens to be driven upon the
island by the wind; and it is followed by a cruel scai’-
city of every kind of product. This calamity commu¬
nicates its baneful influence even to the flesh of the
animals left on the pastures, that becomes ill tasted, in
consequence of the bitterness and bad nourishment of
the food. Abstracting from these irregularities, the
air of Arbe is healthful; nor ought the constant sum¬
mer fevers among the inhabitants to be attributed to its
influence, as they ax-e, more probably, derived from un¬
wholesome food, and a way of life differing little from
that of the Hottentots.
The appearance of the island is exceedingly pleasant.
On the east it has a very high mountain, of the same
substance as the Morlacca, of which it was once a part.
At the foot of this mountain, the rest of the island is
extended to the westward, and divided into beautiful
and fruitful plains interspersed with little hills fit to
hear the richest products. At the extremity that
looks to the north, a delightful promontory, called
Loparo, strelches jnto the sea ; it is crowned with lit¬
tle hills, which almost quite enclose a fine cultivated
plain. Near this promontory are the two small islands
of S. Gregorio and Goli, very useful to shepherds and
fishers. The coast of Arbe, that faces the Morlacca
mountains, is quite steep and inaccessible ; and the
channel between them is extremely dangerous, being
exposed to furious winds, and without a single port on
either side. The long and narrow island of Dolin,
lying parallel to the island of Arbe, along the coast of
Barbado, forms a channel less dangerous, though by no
means so secure as it is beautiful to look at. There
are several harbours in the neighbourhood of the city
of Arbe, by which the trade of the best part of the
Bland is facilitated.
The city stands on* a rising ground between two har¬
bours, which form a peninsula ; it contains about a
thousand inhabitants, among whom are many noble fa¬
milies, but few of them are rich. Among the most
remarkable curiosities of the island, the Arbegiani are
proud of many egregious relicks, and particularly of the
head of S. Christofano their protector ; but the lovers
of sacred antiquity will find something much more sin¬
gular iu the three heads of Shadrach, Meshech, and
Abednego, which are venerated there with great devo¬
tion. Four of the principal gentlemen are keepers of
the sanctuary, and to their care the precious records of
the city are also committed. Among these x'ecords
there is a transaction of IOl8, by which the city of
Arbe promises to the doge of Venice, Ottone Orfeolo,
a tribute of some pounds rfe serta serica, “ of wrought
silk,” and in case of contravention, pounds <Je auro obn~
zo, “ of pure gold.”
In the last age there was a learned bishop of Arbe,
named Ottavio Spaderi, who would not permit the re¬
licks of S. Christofano to be exposed to the public ve¬
neration, on the solemnity of the saint’s day, because
he doubted of their authenticity. The mob x*ose, and
was going to throw him down from the top ot the hill
on which the cathedral stands ; nor did the tumult
cease after the day was past. The government sent
an armed vessel to deliver the prelate from the danger
ARB [ 535 ] ARB
Arba, lie was In: ami tlie pope thought proper to give him
Arbaces. a more tractable spouse in Italy.
v 1"- ' The nature of the soil of Arbe is not the same in
every situation 5 nay it would be difficult to find a coun¬
try where there is so great a variety in so little space.
There is a very great difference between the ground of
the extremity of the mountain above the channel of
Barbado, and the sides of it on the one part towards the
island, and on the other facing the ridge of Morlacca.
Nor is the top of the mountain itself always of the same
structure : for in some parts it is extended in a fine le¬
vel plain, partly Avoody and partly cultivable j in other
places it is quite rocky, and composed of bare marble.
The ground at the foot of the mountain, where it
stretches towards the shore, opposite to Jablanaz, is
nothing but marble ; and in the district of Barbado
it is gravelly, and a good soil for vines. The wine of
Barbado is of excellent quality, and in great estima¬
tion j hardly any other product is cultivated along that
coast, as the vines succeed so well, notwithstanding
the negligent culture. Below the pretended ruins of
Colento the land bears vines, olives, mulberry, and
other fruit trees, and also corn in the lowest parts. All
the lower part of the island is composed alternately of
little, hills and valleys, and of a substance for the most
part very different from that of the mountain and its
adjacencies. As the organization of the mountain is
wholly of marble, so that of the hills is generally are¬
naceous. The Avhetstone forms a large part, and fre¬
quently contains ostracites and lenticulares; the ex¬
terior stratum is commonly friable. The valleys, which
, according to appearances should be full of sand, are
provided with an excellent soil, Avith such a mixture
of very minute sand as is requisite to keep it light.
Springs of fresh Avater are by nature Avell distributed
over the island, and maintain a proper humidity Avhen
the summer is not excessively dry 5 so that the dark ver¬
dure of the hills covered with wood, the luxuriance of
the vines, and freshness of the corn ground, form a
spectacle extremely cheerful and agreeable.
The island of Arbe vyould have every thing requi¬
site for the subsistence of its small population, if the
land was cultivated by a people less stupid and lazy.
It produces, however, fireAvood, of which many car¬
goes are annually sent to Venice ; corn, oil, excellent
wine, brandy, and silk, since very ancient times ; it also
exports hides, wool, sheep, hogs, and horses of a good
breed. There is also abundance of good salt made on
the island j and the fishing of tunny and mackarel, not-
withstanding it is managed in a sloArenly and aAvkAvard
manner, makes no inconsiderable article of trade to the
Arbegiani, avIio like all their,neighbours, find their ac¬
count in selling this commodity to strangers rather than
to the Venetians. Yet, with all these natural products,
the island is very far from being rich, or even in a tole¬
rably flourishing state j because there is much land left
uncultivated, and the peasants are lazy.
ARBACES governed Media under Sardanapalus.
Seeing him spinning among a company of his Avomen,
he stirred up his people to re\'olt, and dethroned Sar¬
danapalus : avIio thereupon burnt himself in his palace.
4-rbaces being crowned, began the monarchy of the
Medes, which lasted 317 years under nine kings, till
Astyages was expelled by Cyrus. Arbaces reigned 22
years, and died A. M. 3 206. See Media.
ARBALEST, or Cross Bow. See Cross-Bow.
ARBELA, now Irbil, a city of Assyria, lying in Arbe I
E. Long. 44. 5. N. Lat. 35. 15. It is famous for1 
the last and decisive battle fought in its neighbourhood
between Alexander the Great and Darius Codomannus,
This battle Avas fought 331 years before Christ, and
the event of it determined the fate of the Persian em¬
pire. Arrian relates, that Darius’s army consisted of a
million of foot and 40,000 horse ; according to Diodo¬
rus, there Avere 200,000 horse and 800,000 foot; Plu¬
tarch relates, that the horse and foot together made up
a million : and Justin gives U3 exactly half Diodorus’s
number. The Macedonian army, according to Arrian
consisted of 40,000 foot and 7000 horse.
Upon receiving notice of the vast strength of the HiUies'l
enemy, Alexander expressed neither surprise nor appre-^rf,0j"
hension ; but having “ commanded a halt, he encamped
four days, to give his men rest and refreshment. His
camp being fortified by a good intrenchment, he left
in it the sick and infirm, together with all the baggage ;
and, on the evening of the fourth day, prepared to
march against the enemy with the effective part of his
army, which was said to consist of 40,000 infantry and
7000 horse, unencumbered Avith any thing but their
provisions and armour. The march w'as undertaken at
the second watch of the night, that the Macedonians,
by joining battle in the morning, might enjoy the im¬
portant advantage of having an entire day before them,
to reap the full fruits of their expected victory. About
half Avay between the hostile camps, some eminences
intercepted the vieAv of either army. Having ascend¬
ed the rising ground, Alexander first beheld the bar¬
barians, drawn up in battle array, and perhaps more
skillfully marshalled than he had reason to apprehend.
Their appearance, at least, immediately determined him
to change his first resolution. He again commanded
a halt, summoned a council of Avar; and different mea¬
sures being proposed, acceded to the single opinion of
Parmenio, Avho advised that the foot should remain sta¬
tionary until a detachment of horse had explored the
field of battle and carefully examined the disposition of
the enemy. Alexander, whose conduct was equalled
by his courage, and both surpassed by his activity, per¬
formed those important duties in person at the head of
his light horse and royal cohort. Having returned
with unexampled celerity, he again assembled his cap¬
tains, and encouraged them by a short speech. Their
ardour corresponded with his own j and the soldiers,
confident of victory, were commanded to take rest and
refreshment.
“ MeanAvhile Darius, perceiving the enemy’s ap¬
proach, kept his men prepared for action. NotAvith-
standing the great length of the plain, he was obliged
to contract his front, and form in two lines, each of
which was extremely deep. According to the Persian
custom, the king occupied the centre of the first line,
surrounded by the princes of the blood and the great
officers of his court, and defended by his horse and
foot guards, amounting to 15,000 chosen men. These
splendid troops, Avho seemed fitter for parade than bat¬
tle, were flanked on either side by the Greek merce¬
naries and other warlike battalions, carefully selected
from the whole army. The right wing consisted of the
Medes, Parthians, Hyrcanians and Sacae : the left Avas
chiefly occupied by the Bactrians, Persians, and Car-
dusians.
ARB [ 537 3 ARB
irbela. Asians. The various nations composing this immense
—»host were differently armed, with swords, spears, clubs,
and hatchets : while the horse and foot of each divi¬
sion were promiscuously blended, rather from the re¬
sult of accident than by the direction of design. The
armed chariots fronted the first line, whose centre was
farther defended by the elephants. Chosen squadrons
of Scythian, Eactrian, and Cappadocian cavalry advan¬
ced before either wing, prepared to bring on the ac¬
tion, or after it began to attack the enemy in flank
and rear. The unexpected approach of Alexander
within sight of his tents prevented Darius from forti¬
fying the wide extent of his camp 5 and, as he dreaded
a nocturnal assault from enemies who often veiled their
designs in darkness, he commanded his men to remain
all night under arms. This unusual measure, the
gloomy silence, the long and anxious expectation, to¬
gether with the fatigue of a restless night, discouraged
the whole army, but inspired double terror into those
who had witnessed the miserable disasters on the banks
of the Granicus and the Issus.
“ At daybreak Alexander disposed of his troops in
a manner suggested by the superior numbers and deep
order of the enemy. His main body consisted of two
heavy-armed phalanxes, each amounting to above
16,000 men. Of these the greater part formed into
one line 5 behind which he placed the heavy-armed
men, reinforced by his targeteers, with orders, that
when the outspreading wings of the enemy prepared
to attack the flanks and rear of his first line, the second
should immediately wheel to receive them. The caval-
ry and light infantry were so disposed on the wings,
that while one part resisted the shock of the Persians
in front, another, by only facing to the right or left,
might take them in flank. Skilful archers and darters
were posted at proper intervals, as affording the best
defence against the armed chariots, which (as Alexan¬
der well knew) must immediately become useless when¬
ever their conductors or horses were wounded.
“ Having thus arranged the several parts, Alexan¬
der with equal judgment led the whole in an oblique
direction towards the enemy’s left; a manoeuvre which
enabled the Macedonians to avoid contending at once
with superior numbers. When his advanced battalions,
notwithstanding their nearness to the enemy,still stretch¬
ed towards the right, Darius also extended his left, till,
fearing that by continuing this movement, his men
should be drawn gradually off the plain, he command¬
ed the Scythian squadrons to advance, and prevent the
farther extension of the hostile line. Alexander imme¬
diately detached a body of horse to oppose them. An
equestrian combat ensued, in which both parties were
reinforced, and the barbarians finally repelled. The
armed chariots then issued forth with impetuous vio¬
lence ; but their appearance only was formidable ; for
the precautions taken by Alexander rendei’ed their as¬
sault harmless. Darius next moved his main body,
but with so little order, that the horse, mixed with
the infantry, advanced, and left a vacuity in the line,
which his generals wanted time or vigilance to supply.
Alexander seized the decisive moment, and penetrated
into the void with a wedge of squadrons. He was
followed by the nearest sections of the phalanx, who
rushed forward with loud shouts, as if they had already
pursued the enemy. In this part of the field, the vic-
Vol. II. Part II. f
tory was not long doubtful; after a feeble resistance
the barbarians give way j and the pusillanimous Darius
was foremost in the flight.
“ The battle, however, was not yet decided. The
more remote divisions of the phalanx, upon receiving
intelligence that the left wing, commanded by Parme-
nio, was in danger, had not immediately followed
Alexander. A vacant space was thus left in the Ma¬
cedonian line, through which some squadrons of Per¬
sian and Indian horse penetrated with celerity, and
advanced to the hostile camp. It was then that Alex¬
ander derived signal and well-earned advantages front
his judicious order of battle. The heavy-armed troops
and targeteers, which he had skillfully posted behind
the phalanx, speedily faced about, advanced with a ra¬
pid step, and attacked the barbarian cavalry, already
entangled among the baggage. The enemy, thus sur¬
prised, were destroyed or put to flight. Meanwhile
the danger of his left wing recalled Alexander from
the pursuit of Darius. In advancing against the ene¬
my’s right, he was met by the Parthian, Indian, and
Persian horse, who maintained a sharp conflict. Sixty
of the Companions fell 5 Hephaestion, Ccenus, and Me-
nidas, were wounded. Having at length dissipated this
cloud of cavalry, Alexander pi'epai’ed to attack the
foot in that wing. But the business was already effect¬
ed, chiefly by the Thessalian horse j and nothing i’e-
mained to be done, but to pursue the fugitives, and to
render the victory as decisive as possible.
“ According to the least extravagant accounts, with
the loss of 500 men, he destroyed 40,000 of the bar¬
barians, who never thenceforth assembled in sufficient
numbers to dispute his dominion in the east. The in¬
valuable provinces of Babylonia, Susiana, and Persis,
with their respective capitals of Babylon, Susa, and
Persepolis, foi’med the prize of his skill and valour.
The gold and silver found in those cities amounted to
thirty millions sterling ; the jewels and other precious
spoil, belonging to Darius, sufficed, according to Plu¬
tarch, to load 20,000 mules, and 5000 camels.” The
consequences of this victoi’y the reader will find narrat¬
ed under the article Persia.
ARBERG, a town of Swisserland, in the canton
of Bern, with a handsome castle, where the bailiff i'e-
sides. It is seated on the river Aar, in a kind of island.
E. Long. 7. 15. N. Lat. 47. o.
ARBITER, in the Civil Law, implies a judge no¬
minated by the magistrate, or chosen voluntarily by
the two contending parties, in order to decide their
diffei-ences.
The civilians make a difference between arbiter and
arbitrator, though both found their power on the com¬
promise of the parties 5 the former being obliged to
judge according to the customs of the law, whereas the
latter is at liberty to use his own discretion, and ac¬
commodate the differences in the manner that appears
to him most just and equitable.
ARBITRARY, that which is left to the choice or
arbitration of men, or not fixed by any positive law or
injunction.
Arbitrary Punishment, in Law, denotes, such pu¬
nishments as are by statute left to the discretion of the
judge. It is a general rule in arbitrary punishments,
that the judge cannot inflict death. Hence all punish¬
ments that are not capital have acquired the name of
3 Y arbitrary
Arbela
Arbitrary.
ARB [ 538 ] ARB
arbitrary punishments^ even although they be expressly-
pointed out by statute.
ARBITRATION, is where the parties, injuring
and injured, submit all matters in dispute, concerning
any personal chattels or personal wrong, to the judge¬
ment of two or more arbiters or arbitrators 5 who are
to decide the controversy : and, if they do not agree,
it is usual to add, that another person be called in as
umpire (imperator or inipar'), to whose sole judgment
it is then referred } or frequently there is only one ar¬
bitrator originally appointed. This decision, in any of
these cases, is called an award. And thereby the
question is as fully determined, and the right transfer¬
red or settled, as it would have been by the agreement
of the parties or the judgment of a court of justice.
See Law.
ARBITRATOR, a private extraordinary judge,
chosen by the mutual consent of parties, to determine
controversies between them. See Arbiter and Arbi¬
tration.
ARBOIS, a small populous town of France, in the
department of Jura, formerly Franche Compte, famous
for its wines. E. Long. 5. 40. N. Lat. 46. 55.
ARBON, an ancient town in Swisserland, on the
south banks of the lake Constance, in Thurgaw. It
has a castle built by the Romans, and is under the ju¬
risdiction of the bishop of Constance. In the time of
war, the Swiss have a right to put in a garrison. The
Popish and Protestant religions are equally tolerated in
this town. E. Long. 9. 30. N. Lat. 4. 38.
ARBOR, in Botany, a tree. Trees are by Linnaeus
classed in the seventh family of the vegetable kingdom,
and are distinguished from shrubs in that their stems
come up with buds on them ; but this distinction holds
not universally, there being rarely any buds on the
large trees in India.
Arbor, in Mechanics, the principal part of a ma¬
chine, which serves to sustain the rest j also the axis or
spindle on which a machine turns, as the arbor of a
crane, windmill, &c.
Arbor Diance. See Chemistry Index.
Arbor Vitce. See Thuya, Botany Index.
ARBORESCENT, an epithet applied to such ob¬
jects as resemble trees.
ARBORIST, a person skilled in that part of botany
which treats of trees.
Arborescent Star-Jish, in Zoology, a species of as-
lerias. See Asterias.
AEBORIBONSES, in modern history, priests of
Japan, who live an erratic life, and subsist on alms.
They dwell in caverns, and cover their heads with
bonnets made of the bark of trees.
ARBOUR, in Gardening, a kind of shady bower,
formerly in great esteem 5 but of late rejected on ac¬
count ot its being damp and unwholesome.
Arbours are generally made of lattice work, either
of wood or iron j and covered with elms, limes, horn¬
beams ; or with creepers, as honeysuckles, jasmines, or
passion flowers ; either of which will answer the purpose
very well, if rightly managed.
Arbroath. See Aberbrothick.
ARBURG, a town of Swisserland, in the canton
of Bern, on the river Aar. It is small, but very
strong, being seated on a rock, and defended by a good
3,
fortress cut out of the rock. E. Long. 7. 55. N. Lat.. Arbor?
47. 10. j '
ARBUSCULA, is used by Bradley to denote a Arbuthnol;
little or dwarf tree, above the rank of shrubs, but be-
low that of trees ; such, e. g. as the elder.
ARBUSTUM, implies a number or multitude of
trees planted for the fruit’s sake.
The word was more peculiarly applied to a place
planted with trees for fastening vines to, which are
hence called by Columella arbustivee.
Arbustum is sometimes also used to denote an or¬
chard, or field wherein trees are planted at such di¬
stance that there is room for ploughing and growing
corn between.
ARBUTHNOT, Alexander, principal of the
university of Aberdeen in the reign of James YI. of
Scotland, was born in the year 1538. He studied first
at Aberdeen $ and was afterwards sent over to France,
where, under the famous Cujacius, he applied himself
to the study of the civil law. In the year 1563, he
returned to Scotland, and took orders. "Whether be
was ordained by a bishop or by presbyters, is a matter
of uncertainty. In 1568, he was appointed minister of
Arbuthnot and Logie Buchan; and in the following
year, Mr Alexander Anderson being deprived, our au¬
thor was made principal of the king’s college at Aber¬
deen, in his room. In the general assembly which met
at Edinburgh in the years 1573 and 1577, was
chosen moderator; and to the *end of his life was an
active supporter of the reformed religion. He died in
1583, in the 45th year of his age 5 and was buried in
the College church of Aberdeen. We are told in the
Biographia, that he was eminent as a poet, a philoso¬
pher, a mathematician, a lawyer, a divine, and a phy¬
sician. He wrote Oi ationes de origine et dignitate juris,
printed at Edinburgh, 1572, 410. His cotemporary
Thomas Maitland wrote a copy of Latin verses on the
publication of this book : they are printed in the Delic.
Poet. Scot. He published Buchanan’s History of
Scotland in the year 1582.
Arbuthnot, John, M. I). the son of an Episcopal
clergyman in Scotland, was born soon after the Resto¬
ration at Arbuthnot near Montrose. After acquiring
a competent knowledge of the elementary parts of
education, he was sent to the college of Aberdeen,
where the buddings of those great qualities and those
sallies of wit, which contributed so much to his future
greatness, soon made their appearance. Having there
gone through a course of academical studies, and ob¬
tained the degree of doctor of physic, he went to Lon¬
don, in order to reap the fruits both of his natural and
acquired abilities. He then began to display his ta¬
lents, in teaching mathematics, in which he was very
expert. “ An Examination of Dr Woodward’s Ac¬
count of the Deluge,” &c. in 1697, first made him
known to the learned world. This performance was
received with great applause; and in 1700 a treatise
“ On the Usefulness of Mathematical Learning” still
increased his reputation. A very interesting paper
“ On the Regularity of the Births of both Sexes,”
demonstrating from authentic proofs the universal si¬
milarity which is observed by nature in this circum¬
stance, and drawing from these several political and
moral inferences, which he presented to the Royal So-
ARB C 539 ] ARC
latlinot, ciety, procured his election in 1704 into that body.
' Meanwhile, in his own proper profession, he was ac¬
quiring considerable eminence, and was appointed, on
account of his great medical knowledge, physician ex¬
traordinary to Prince George of Denmark, and shortly
afterwards one of the physicians in ordinary to Queen
Anne. He was admitted in 1710 a fellow of the col¬
lege. He formed about this period a very intimate
acquaintance, which lasted with unabating tenderness
and affection during the rest of his life, with these
great literary men, Pope, Gay, and Swift. In 17I4
he engaged in an extensive design, of making a satire
upon all the abuses of science in every branch in co¬
operation with Pope and Swift, which was to be writ¬
ten under the form of the history of a fictitious cha¬
racter, and in the grave ironical style. The plan was
never finished, but the “ Memoirs of Martinas Scrib-
lerus,” published in Pope’s works, form a part; of
which, much is the performance of Dr Arbuthnot.
It is very probable, that the whole of the first book is
of his composition, in which the great profoundness of
knowledge that is discerned, and the good-natured
pleasantry with which the satire is directed, has gain¬
ed it the chai'acter of one of the most original, learn¬
ed, and interesting pieces in the English language.
Those parts which relate to anatomy, the manners
and customs of antiquity, and logic, are particularly his
performance. On the death of Queen Anne, he made
a visit to Paris, in order to drive away the melancholy,
Which attended him on account of that circumstance,
which was a severe stroke to him, and destructive not
only to his personal, but also to his political views. Re¬
turning from thence, as his medical services were no
longer required at St James’s, he retired from it, and
followed at large the practice of his profession } yet
he did not thence give up his literary pursuits, but
pursued them with great ardour, although long in¬
tervals take place between the times of his publi¬
cations. A work entitled “ Tables of Ancient CoinSj
Weights, and Measures,” explained and exemplified
in several dissertations, in a 4to vol. appeared in I727»
Which is the chief of his serious performances. Al¬
though there are several inaccuracies in it, which could
hardly be avoided in so intricate a subject, it is a work
of great merit, and has ever since been considered as
the standard authority. A treatise “ On the Nature
and Choice of Aliments,” which was published in
1732, and another published in 1733, “ On the Effects
of Air on H uman Bodies,” finish the list of his sterling
works. Both these were well received by the facul¬
ty, and continue to be still esteemed, and are occa¬
sionally read and quoted. Respecting his humorous
works, which were the productions of his leisure
hours, they are so confounded with those of his con¬
temporaries, that it is not easy to distinguish them.
But a piece which, independent of any other, would
raise him to the character of the first humorous wri¬
ter in the English language, entitled the “ History
of John Bull,” is confidently ascribed to him. This
is conducted with great wit and humour, and all the
circumstances and characters are most admirably adapt¬
ed. Among his several avowed ironical pieces are
“ A Treatise concerning the Altercation or Scolding
of the Ancients,” and the “ Art of Political Lying.”
In the year 1751, there were published two small Vo¬
lumes, entitled “ The Miscellaneous Works of Dr Ailaiilmot
Arbuthnot $” but the greatest part of what they con- H
tain is denied by his son to be of his composition. As Ar°j
it was customary for him* when any comical occur- ’
rence took place, which struck his fancy, to write
concerning it in a large folio which lay in his parlour ;
it is very probable, that many slight and imperfect es¬
says, which had gone out of his remembrance, might
get abroad into the world. Through all his pieces of
this kind there runs a vein of good-natured pleasantry ;
and this tends to confirm the character given of him
by Swift, to a lady who desired to know bis opinion
concerning Dr Arbuthnot, “ He has more wit than
we all have, and his humanity is equal to his wit.”
Although his writings are free from that gall and ran¬
cour, too common among party writers, yet they
cannot be said to be altogether free from a party spiiit.
He, however, cannot be excused in one instance, of
allowing his personal dislike to overrule his humanity,
viz. in the “ Memorandums of the six days preceding
the death of a late Right Reverend” (meaning Bishop
Burnet). The indignation of a virtuous man towards
an infamous character, is sufficient to justify bis seve¬
rity in his bitter “ Epitaph on Colonel Chartres and
this severity was probably aggravated by party spirit.
Although he had no proper poetical talent, yet he
made an effort to try his genius in that kind of com¬
position. A piece, published in Dodsley’s collection,
is valuable for its philosophical sentiment, which is en¬
titled rN£20I ZEAYTON, Know thyself. He was also
skilled in music; and Sir J. Hawkins mentions an an¬
them and a burlesque song, which are ascribed to him.
In these occupations he passed his days, amid all the
pleasures that can render domestic life happy, in the
affection and estimation of his friends, beloved and
esteemed by all his literary associates, who have each
taken great pains to celebrate their mutual friendship.
Swift in one of his poems sincerely laments that he is
“ Far from his kind Arbuthnot’s aid,
Who knows his art, but not his trade.”
Pope has dedicated to him an epistle, called a “ Pro¬
logue to the Satires.” He was full of humility and
resignation in all the dispensations of Providence. Of
Ills two sons, he witnessed the death of one j and the
other, with some daughters, survived him. At length,
fi’om an inveterate asthma, he fell into a dropsical dis¬
order } and, in order to txy the effect of a change of
air, he repaired to Hampstead, but without the least
gleam of hope respecting a recovery, as he assured his
fx-iends Pope and Swift. Returning to his house in
London, he died February 27. 1734-5. -^s latest
letters display a great serenity of mind, an exemplary
piety, a contempt of vice, and a glowing desire of vix-
tue. {Gen. Biog.').
ARBUTUS, the Strawberry Tree. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ARC, Joan OF, generally called the Maid of Or¬
leans, one of the most famed hei'oines in the annals of
history, was born about the beginning ol the 15th
century at Domremy, near Vaucouleurs in Lorrain,
whei'e her fathei', a peasant, named James d’Arc, re¬
sided. When she was able in the least degree to earn
a sustenance for herself, her parents, who were but
poor, put her to service at a small inn, where she^per-
3 Y 3 formed
ARC L 540 ] ARC
Arc. formed several offices, more properly belonging to the
—v—",—1 other sex, such as riding the horses to water without a
saddle, and attending them in the fields, and many
other similar services, which greatly displayed her mas¬
culine habit of body. At the time when Charles Vlf.
was reduced to a very low condition, and the greatest
part of his country had been overrun by the English,
Joan, probably then at the age of 27 or 28, imagined
that she saw several visions, and that in one of these
she was commanded by St Michael, to go immediately
to the relief of Orleans, at that time closely besieged
by the English army, and then to procure the conse¬
cration of the king at JRheims. In February 1429,
her parents took her to the governor of Vaucouleurs,
named Baudricourt, who at first held her pretended in¬
spiration to be no more than an idle tale, and treated it
with the contempt such a thing would have deserved ;
but at last induced by her entreaties, he sent her to
Chinon, where the king then was, in order that she
might be introduced to him. Charles, whether it pro¬
ceeded from earnest or not, in order to sound her, de¬
termined to present her to a company of his nobles,
where no mark of dignity tended to distinguish him
from them j and, it is asserted, that she immediately
recognized him, and informed him of secrets which he
had endeavoured to conceal from every person. She
boldly engaged to accomplish the two objects of her
mission, and required that they should arm her with a
consecrated sword, which lay in the church of St Ca¬
tharine of Fierbois ; and although she had never seen
it, she accurately described every particular concerning
it. The manner in which she acted inspired many with
confidence ; and certain doctors of the church were ap¬
pointed to inspect into the nature of her inspifation,
and matrons to give proofs of her virginity. The re¬
port which they gave was very favourable ; but being
next put into the hands of the parliament, they treated
her as frantick, and demanded that she should shew
them a miracle. She answered, that although she had
not any at that time to present, she would soon accom¬
plish one at Orleans. At length being fully armed
and mounted, she was sent to Orleans along with the
army destined for its relief. By displaying a conse¬
crated banner, she soon cleansed the camp of intempe¬
rance ; and by her whole deportment, animated the
soldiers by her exemplary enthusiasm. Entering Or¬
leans, she introduced a convoy, and boldly attacking
the English in their forts, she routed them with great
slaughter, and struck them with such a panic that
they vvere even obliged to raise the siege with great
precipitation. The dignity of a superior mind and a
brave heroism reigned through all her actions. Va¬
rious other successes followed in a short time, and the
dismayed English everywhere fled before the hand of
a conquering enemy, whom they had but lately con¬
temned. Joan now thinking it proper to perform her
other promise of crowning the king at Rheims, pro¬
ceeded with him through the kingdom, in order to re- *
ceive submission of the towns as he marched, which he
did without any opposition. Arriving at Rheims, the
keys of the city were delivered to him, and, entering
the town, he was anointed and crowned with the holy
oil of Clovis, Joan standing by his side in full armour,
and displaying her consecrated banner. Charles filled
with gratitude for her impoi'tant services, ennobled
2
her family, and conferred upon it the title of the St/s,
with a conformable estate in land. The two objects of
her mission being now accomplished, Joan prepared to
retire into the country ; but Dunois, the general, be¬
ing sensible of her importance on account of her pre¬
tended inspiration, endeavoured to persuade her to re¬
main in arms until the English should be fully driven
from the country ; which by his persuasions he effect¬
ed. Advised by him, she cast herself into Compeigne,
then closely besieged by the English and the duke of
Burgundy. Having there made a sally upon the ene¬
my, she drove them from their entrenchments ; but be¬
ing basely deserted by her followers, she was taken
prisoner. Upon her capture, the English enjoyed a
malignant gratification, and resolved to shew her no
mercy on account of the change she had occasioned
in their affairs. The duke of Bedford, the regent, ha¬
ving ransomed her from the captors, appointed a cri¬
minal prosecution against her upon the charges of em¬
ploying sorcery and magic, and of being impious. He
was joined in the accusation by the clergy, and by the
university of Paris. She was carried in irons before
an ecclesiastical commission at Rouen, where several
capricious interrogatories were put to her during a trial
of about four months, to which she answered with stea¬
diness and gravity. Among several other questions,
she was interrogated why she bad assisted at the coro¬
nation of Charles with her standard in her hand.
She boldly replied, “ Because the person who shared
in the danger, had a right to share in the glory.”
Her defence was not so strong concerning her pretend¬
ed inspiration and visions, which were the most dange¬
rous points of the attack. She appealed to the pope
upon being accused on these grounds of impiety and
heresy j but her appeal was not allowed. At length
she was condemned of being a blasphemer and sorce¬
ress, and accordingly delivered over to the power of
the civil magistrate. A view of the dreadful punish¬
ment that awaited her, at last overpowered her resolu¬
tion 5 and she endeavoured to escape it, by making a
disavowal of her pretended revelations, and a full re¬
nunciation of her errors. Her sentence was then
changed into perpetual imprisonment, but this punish¬
ment did not assuage the fury ol her barbarous ene¬
mies. They craftily laid a man’s dress in her cham¬
ber, and she, induced by the sight of an apparel in
which she had gained so much honour, put it on ; and
upon being discovered, her enemies condemned her to
the stake, interpreting the action into a relapse of he¬
resy. She suffered her punishment in June 1431, at
the market-place of Rouen, with great firmness j and
even the English themselves beheld the scene with
tears. Her death will for ever cast an indelible stigma
on the character of her cruel prosecutors. Charles did
nothing towards avenging her cause : but ten years af¬
terwards, contented himself with procuring the resto¬
ration of her memory by the pope, and a reversion of
the process. She was styled in that act, a “ martyr to
her religion, her country, and her king.” In their
enthusiastic admiration, her countrymen were not so
slow in honouring her memory* Many marvellous sto¬
ries were related by them concerning her death. Some
supposed that she was not actually dead, and conti¬
nually expected, that, as formerly, she would come,
and at their head lead them on to victory. A consist¬
ent
ARC [ 54i ] ARC
^rc ent and uniform judgment respecting the actions and
l| address of this personage cannot be made by posterity,
rcangis. That she gave herself up to the influence of a heated
fancy, and that she was confident in the idea of her
divine inspiration, and that this notion was so improved
by certain favourites of Charles, as to excite the emo¬
tions of the public, seems to be the most probable sup¬
position. That the appearance of the Maid of Or¬
leans tended to give a decisive turn to the contest be¬
tween the English and the French, has never in the
least been questioned.
The praise and exploits of this noble heroine have
formed the subject of various works both in prose and
verse. In verse, that of Voltaire is very licentious and
burlesque, and is an injury to her memory j but it
has in a great degree been repaired by that most spi¬
rited and sublime poem of Southey, in English, which
represents her in the most lively and striking colours of
heroism and virtue ; and by that of Chapelain, although
it did not meet with such success. (Gen. Biog.).
ARCADE, in Architecture, is used to denote any
opening in the wall of a building formed by an arch.
ARC ADI, or Arcadians, the name of a learned
society at Rome. See Academy.
ARCADIA, an inland district in the heart of Pe¬
loponnesus (Strabo). It is mountainous, and fitter for
pasture than corn ; and therefore chiefly celebrated by
bucolic or pastoral poets, who feign Pan the god of
shepherds, to be the guardian of it (Virgil). It has
to the north Achaia, to the east Argos and Laconia,
Messenia to the south, and Elis to the west. Accord¬
ing to Pliny, the wine of this country cured barren¬
ness in women, and inspired the men with rage $ and
the berries of the yew gathered there were so strong a
poison, that whoever slept or took refreshment under
that tree was sure to die. In Strabo’s time there
were few cities remaining in it, most of them being
destroyed in the Grecian wars. Eustathius says, that
the country w'as anciently called Pelasgia, from Pelas-
gos, who brought the people, from roots, herbs, and
leaves of trees, to feed on acorns, especially beech
mast; as Artemidorus observes, that the Arcadians
usually lived on acorns. It was also called Lycaonia,
Gigantis and Parrhasia (Stephanus). The Arcadi¬
ans are greatly commended for their love of, and skill
in, music, (Virgil, Polybius). To imitate the Arca¬
dians, is to labour and toil for the benefit of others,
never conquering their own, but the enemies of others
(Hesychius). This probably took its rise from the an¬
cient Arcadians being accustomed to hire themselves
out as mercenaries to foreign nations. Homer com¬
mends their martial prowess, their pastures, their sheep,
and their country well watered. The gentilitious
name is Arcades ; who boasted of their great antiqui¬
ty, and that they were older than the sun and moon
(Apollonius Rhodius, Nonnius, Plutarch, Ovid, Sta¬
tius). They were the first who had a year of three
months, and therefore called Proceleni, because their
year was prior to that adjusted in Greece to the course
of the moon (Censorious).
ARCANGIS, in the Turkish armies, an inferior
kind of infantry, which serve as enfans perdus, and to
harass and pillage the enemy’s frontiers. The Arcangis
are an order inferior to the Janizaries j and when any:
©£ them distinguish themselves, are usually preferred
into the Janizaries order. They have no pay, but are Arcangis
to subsist on their plunder. }]
ARCANUM, among physicians, any remedy, the Arch,
preparation of which is industriously concealed, in or-
der to enhance its value.
Arcanum, in Ancient Geography, a villa ©f Q. Ci¬
cero, Tally’s brother, in Latium, (Cicero). Now
Arce, in the Terra di Lavora, in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, on the borders of the Campagna di Roma, on the
river Melpis, between Arpinum and Aquinum.
ARCBOUTANT, in building, an arched buttress.
See Buttress.
ARCESILAUS, a celebrated Greek philosopher,
about 300 years before the Christian era, was born at
Pitane, in Eolis. He founded the second academy,
which is called the second school. He was a man of
great erudition, and well versed in the writings of the
ancients. He was remarkable for the severity of his
criticisms j but nevertheless he knew how to accom¬
modate himself to the age, and pursue the allurements
of pleasure. He had a great number of disciples. His
doctrines were different in several respects from those
of the ancient school: and perhaps he was led into this
diversity of opinions by many capital errors in the an¬
cient school, such as the incredible arrogance of the
dogmatists, who pretended to assign causes for all
things; the mysterious air they had thrown upon the
doctrine of ideas 5 the entirely discarding the testimo¬
ny of the senses ; the objection of the Pyrrhonists, who
now began to broach their opinions ; the powerful
opposition of the Stoics and Peripatetics, who disco¬
vered the feeble parts of the Academic philosophy.
These might have given cause to reform the ancient
school, and to found a new one. The middle school,
therefore, laid it down as a principle, that we could
know nothing, nor even assure ourselves of the certain¬
ty of this position ; from whence they inferred, that
we should affirm nothing, but always suspend our judge¬
ment. They advanced, that a philosopher was able to
dispute upon every subject, and bring conviction with
him, even upon contrary sides of the same question ;
for there are always reasons of equal force both in the
affirmative and negative of every argument. Accord¬
ing to this doctrine, neither our senses nor even our
reason, are to have any credit: and therefore, in com¬
mon affairs, we are to conform ourselves to received
opinions. Arcesilaus was succeeded by his disciple
Lacydes.
ARCH, in Geometry, any part of the circumfe¬
rence of a circle or curved line, lying from one point
to another, by which the quantity of the whole circle
or line, or some other thing sought after, may be ga¬
thered. See Bridge and Center.
Arch, a concave or hollowed piece of building,
constructed in such a manner that the several stones of
which it is composed keep one another in their places.
The terms arch and vault properly differ only in this,
that the arch expresses a narrower, and the vault a
broader piece of the same kind. The principal dif¬
ference in the form of arches is, that some are circu¬
lar, and others elliptical 5 the former having a larger
or smaller part of a circle, the other of an ellipsis.
What are called strait arches, are those frequently
used for doors and windows, the upper and under
edges of which are straight and parallel, and the ends and
joints
A K C [ 542 ] ABC
Arch joints all pointing toward a centre. The space between
II two piers of a bridge is called an arch, because usually
Archangel, arched over.
Triumphal uincuEs are magnificent entries into ci¬
ties, erected to adorn a triumph, and perpetuate the
memory of the action. The arches of Titus and Con¬
stantine make at this time a great figure among the
ruins of old Rome.
Arch, in composition, signifies chief, or of t\\a first
class : as archangel, archbishop, &c.
ARCHjEUS, or Archeus. See Archeus.
ARCHANGEL, an angel occupying the eighth
rank in the celestial hierarchy. See Angel and Hie¬
rarchy.
Archangel, a city of Russia, in the province of
Dwina, situated on the east side of the river Dwina,
about six miles from the White sea, in E. Long. 39.
N. Lat. 64. 30. The city extends about three
miles in length and one in breadth. It is rich, popu¬
lous, built in the modern taste, and is a metropolitan
see. It rose from a castle built on the spot by Basilo-
witz II. to protect the increasing trade brought there
by the discovery of the White sea by the English, and
took its name from a monastery built in honour of the
archangel Michael. Before this period the commer¬
cial intercourse between Russia and the northern parts
ot Europe had been long carried on by the Hanseatic
towns •, which usually sailed to Revel or Narva, and
from thence passed through Dorpt or Plescof and No-
vogorod, where their factories were established. The
accidental discovery of Archangel, in 1553, deprived
the Hanseatic towns of a great part of this lucrative
commerce, and transferred it to the English. On the
nth of May, in the above-mentioned year, three ships
sailed from Deptford, in order to explore the northern
seas, under the command of Sir Hugh Willoughby.
Two of these vessels penetrated as high as the 72d de¬
gree of latitude, to the coast of Spitzbex*gen ; and be¬
ing afterwards forced by stress of weather into the
bay of the river Arzina in Russian Lapland, both their
crews were frozen to death. Richard Chancellor, who
commanded the other ship, called the Bonaventure,
discovering the country bordering upon the White sea,
landed near the mouth of the Dwina, in a bay, which
he denominated the Bay of St Nicholas, from a con¬
vent of that name near the present port of Archangel.
The czar Iwan Basilovyitz, being informed of his "ar-
lival, invited him to his court, where he was hospita¬
bly entertained, and the czar indulged the English
with a free trade in his dominions : in consequence of
this permission, a company of merchants was incorpo¬
rated in London $ and being encouraged by particular
privileges from the czar, set on foot a considerable
commerce, to the mutual advantage of both nations.
Hus traffic the English for some time enjoyed without
competition. The Dutch, however, and other na¬
tions, gradually insinuated themselves into this com¬
merce ; which they carried on to a very great disadvan-
tage, as not being favoured with those privileges which
the czar had granted to the English company. These
were at last suddenly annihilated by Alexis Michaelo-
vitch ; who in 1648 banished the English merchants
from all his dominions. The cause of this expulsion is
generally imputed to the resentment which the czar
conceived against the English for the execution of
Charles I. with whom he was closely connected by Atcban
leagues of amity and alliance : but in effect he abolish-Archbish
ed the company’s privileges in the year before that' \r*
event; and his indignation against the English for their
rebellion, Mr Coxe affirms, was only a political pretext 5
the real motive being derived from the offers made by
the Dutch to pay duties of export and import to the
amount of 15 per cent, if they were indulged with the
liberty of carrying on as free a trade as the English
throughout his dominions. For not long afterwards, the
czar suflered William Prideaux, Cromwell’s agent, to
reside at Archangel $ and permitted the English to
renew their commerce in that port upon the same foot¬
ing with other foreigners. And upon this footing alone
our merchants ever after continued to trade.
The commodities chiefly imported into Archangel,
were gold and silver stuffs and laces, gold wire, cochi¬
neal, indigo, and other drugs for dyeing j wine, bran¬
dy, and other distilled spirits. The customs arising to
the czar were computed at 200,000 rubles a-year, and
the number of foreign ships at 400 annually. But up¬
on the building of Petersburg, Peter the Great abolish¬
ed the immunities of Archangel, and removed the
commerce of the White sea to the havens of the Baltic.
Still, however, its exports of tar were considerable 5
in 1730, to the amount of 40,000 lasts, of 11 barrels
each. It sends, during winter, great quantities of the
rawaga, a small species of three-finned cod, to Peters¬
burg frozen.
In 1752 Elizabeth again restored the ancient immu¬
nities of Archangel 3 and its present trade is not in¬
considerable. It supplies the government of Archan¬
gel, part of those of Niehnei-Novogorod and Casan,
with European commodities 3 and draws in exchange
from those parts corn, flax, hemp, coarse linen, cor-
dage, sails, masts and tallow, which are mostly con¬
veyed by the Dwina : it forms also a principal com¬
munication with the northern and western parts of Si¬
beria, from whence the merchants procure furs, skins,
and iron.
The houses of Archangel are generally of wood, but
well contrived ; and every chamber is provided with a
stove, as a fence against the cold, which is here exces¬
sive in the winter. The streets are paved with broken
pieces of timber and rubbish, disposed so unskilfully,
that one cannot walk over it without running the risk
of falling, except when the streets are rendered smooth
and equal by the snow that falls and freezes in the
winter. Notwithstanding the severity of the cold in
this place, there is always plenty of good provisions 3
butchers meat, poultry, wild fowl: and fish, in a great
variety, are sold surprisingly cheap.
The most remarkable edifice in Archangel is a large
townhouse, built of square stones in the Italian manner,
and divided into three parts. One of these consists
of large commodious apartments, for the accommo¬
dation of merchants, strangers as well as natives : here
they are permitted to reside with their merchandise
till the month of October, when all the foreign ships
set sail for their respective countries. Then, too, the
native traders are obliged to remove their quarters from
the townhouse. In 1793 great part of this city and
suburbs was destroyed by fire, but has since been ele¬
gantly rebuilt.
ARCHBISHOP, the name of a church dignitary
of
ARC [ 543 ] A R C
chbiihop. of the first class. Archbishops were not known in the
—y—'east till about the year 320 ; and though there were
some soon after this who had the title, yet that was
only a personal honour, by which the bishops of consi¬
derable cities were distinguished. It was not till of
late that archbishops became metropolitans, and had
sutfragans under them. Athanasius appears to be the
first who used the title Archbishop, which he gave oc¬
casionally to his predecessor ; Gregory Nazianzen, in
like manner, gave it to Athanasius •, not that either of
them were entitled to any jurisdiction, nor even any
precedence in virtue of it. Among the Latins, Isi¬
dore Hispalensis is the first that speaks of archbishops.
He distinguishes four orders or degrees in the ecclesi¬
astical hierarchy, viz. patriarchs, archbishops, metropo¬
litans, and bishops.
The archbishop, beside the inspection of the bishops
and inferior clergy in the province over which he pre¬
sides, exercises episcopal jurisdiction in his own dio¬
cese. He is guardian of the spiritualties of any vacant
see in his province, as the king is of the temporalties j
and exercises ecclesiastical jurisdiction in it. He is
entitled to present by lapse to all the ecclesiastical liv¬
ings in the disposal of his diocesan bishop, if not filled
within six months. He has likewise a customary pre¬
rogative, upon consecrating a bishop, to name a clerk
or chaplain to be provided for by such bishop j in lieu
of which it is now usual to accept an option. He is
said to be enthroned when vested in the archbishopric j
whereas bishops are said to be installed.
The ecclesiastical government of England is divided
into two provinces, viz. Canterbury and York. Can¬
terbury hath the following suffragan bishoprics apper¬
taining to it, St Asaph, Bangor, Bath and Wells, Bri¬
stol, Chichester, Litchfield and Coventry, St David’s,
Ely, Exeter, Gloucester, Hereford, Landaff, Lincoln,
London, Norwich, Oxford, Peterborough, Rochester,
Salisbury, Winchester, and Worcester. To York ap-
pertaineth the bishoprics of Carlisle, Chester, and Dur¬
ham } to which may be added the bishopric of Sodor
and Man, whose bishop is not a lord of parliament.
See Canterbury and York.
The archbishop of Canterbury had anciently, viz.
till the year 1152, jurisdiction over Ireland as well as
England, and wras styled a patriarch, and sometimes o/-
terius orbis papa, and orbis Britannicipontifex. Mat¬
ters were done and recorded in his name thus, Anno
pontijicatus nostriprimo, &c. The first archbishop of
Canterbury was Austin, appointed by King Ethelbert,
on his conversion to Christianity", about the year 598.
He was also rcgatm not us. He even enjoyed some
special marks of royalty 5 as, to be patron of a bishop¬
ric, which he was of Rochester ; and to make knights,
coin moneys, &c. He is still the first peer of Eng¬
land, and the next to the royal family ; having pre¬
cedence of all dukes and all great officers of the crown.
It is his privilege, by custom, to crown the kings and
queens of this kingdom. He may" retain and qualify
eight chaplains ; whereas a duke is allowed by statute
only six. He has, by common law, the power of pro¬
bate of wills and testaments, and granting letters of
administration. He has also a power to grant licenses
and dispensations in all cases formerly sued for in the
court of Rome, and not repugnant to the law of God.
He accordingly issues special licenses to marry, sto hold
two livings, &c. and he exercises the right of confer- Archbishop
ring degrees. He also holds several courts of judica- ||
ture : as, court of arches, court of audience, preroga- Arehdca-
tive court, and court of peculiars. , C°D‘ .
The archbishop of York has the like rights in his
province as the archbishop of Canterbury. He has
precedence of all dukes not of the royal blood j and of
all officers of state, except the lord high chancellor.
He has also the rights of a count palatine over Hex-
amshire. The first archbishop of York was Paulinus,
appointed by Pope Gregory about the year 622. He
bad formerly jurisdiction over all the bishops of Scot¬
land ; but in the year 1470, Pope Sextus IV. created
the bishop of St Andrew’s archibishop and metropolitan
of all Scotland.
Scotland, whilst episcopacy prevailed in that country,
had two archbishops, of St Andrew’s and Glasgow j of
which the former was accounted the metropolitan j
and, even before it arrived at the dignity of an arch¬
bishopric, resisted with great spirit all the attempts of
the archbishops of York in England to become the me¬
tropolitans of Scotland. The sees of Argyll, Galloway,
and the Isles, were suffragans to Glasgow5 all the others
in the kingdom to St Andrew’s.
Ireland has four archbishops j of Armagh, Dublin,
Cashel, and Tuam j of which the former is primate of
all Ireland.
ARCHBISHOPRIC, in Ecclesiastical Geography,
a province subject to the jurisdiction of an archbi¬
shop.
ARCHBUTLER, one of the great officers of the
German empire, who presents the cup to the emperor
on solemn occasions. This office belongs to the king
of Bohemia.
ARCHCHAMBERLAIN, an officer of the empire,
much the same with the great chamberlain in England.
The elector of Brandenburg was appointed by the gold¬
en bull archchamberlain of the empire.
ARCHCHANCELLOR, a high officer, who, in
ancient times, presided over the secretaries of the court.
Under the two first races of the kings of France, when
their territories were divided into Germany, Italy, and
Arles, there were three archchancellors : and hence the
three archchancellors still subsisting in Germany j the
archbishop of Mentz being archchancellor of Germa-
ny, the archbishop of Cologn, and the archbishop of
Treves.
ARCHCHANTOR, the president of the chantors
of a church.
ARCHCOUNT, a title formerly given to the earl of
Flanders, on account of his great power and riches.
ARCHDEACON, an ecclesiastical dignitary or of¬
ficer next to a bishop, whose jurisdiction extends either
over the whole diocese or only a part of it. He is usual¬
ly appointed by the bishop himself; and hath a kind of
episcopal authority, originally derived from the bishop,
but now independent and distinct from his. He there¬
fore visits the clergy ; and has his separate court for
punishment of oft'enders by spiritual censures, and for
hearing all other causes of ecclesiastical cognizance. .
There are 60 archdeacons in England.
Archdeacon's Court, is the most inferior court in
the whole ecclesiastical polity. It is held in the arch¬
deacon’s absence, before a judge appointed by himself
and called his official; audits jurisdiction is sometimes
iiY;
ARC [ 544 ] ARC
Archdea- in concu’rrence with, sometimes in exclusion of, the bi-
con shop’s court of the diocese. From hence, however, by
II statute 24 Hen. VIII. c. 12. there lies an appeal to that
Archers. . o£ ^ |)js|10p>
" " ARCHDRUID, the chief or pontiff of the ancient
druids of a nation. See Druid.
ARCHDUKE, a title peculiar to the house of
Austria $ all the sons of which are archdukes, and the
daughters archduchesses. See Duke.
ARCHELAUS, a celebrated Greek philosopher,
the disciple of Anaxagoras, flourished about 440 years
before Christ. He read lectures at Athens, and did
not depart much from the opinions of his master. lie
taught that there was a double principle of all things,
namely, the expansion and condensatioti of the air,
which he regarded as infinite. Heat, according to him,
was in continual motion. Cold was ever at rest. The
earth, which was placed in the midst of the universe,
had no motion. It originally resembled a wet marsh,
but was afterwards dried up 5 and its figure, he said,
resembled that of an egg. Animals were produced
from the heat of the earth, and even men were formed
in the same manner. All animals have a soul, which
was born with them : but the capacities of which vary
according to the structure of the organs of the body in
which it resides.—Socrates, the most illustrious of his
disciples, was his successor.
Archelaus, the son of Herod the Great, was de¬
clared king of Judea the second year after the birth of
Christ. He put to death 3000 persons before he went
to Rome to be confirmed by Augustus. However, that
emperor gave him half of what had been possessed by
bis father j but at length, on fresh complaints exhibit¬
ed against him by the Jews, he banished him to Vienne
in Gaul, A. D. 6. where he died.
Archelaus, the son of Apollonius, one of the
greatest sculptors of antiquity, was a native of Ionia,
and is thought to have lived in the time of the empe¬
ror Claudius. He executed, in marble, the apotheosis
of Homer. This masterpiece in sculpture was found
m 1568, in a place named Fratocchia, belonging to the
princes of Colonna, where, it is said, the emperor Clau¬
dius had a pleasure house. Father Kircher, Cupert,
Spanheim, and several other learned antiquaries, have
given a description and explication of this work.
ARCHERS, a kind of militia or soldiery armed
with bows and arrows. The word is formed of arcus,
“ a bow j” whence arcuam/s, and even arquis, and ar-
quites, as they are also denominated in the corrupt
state of the Latin tongue.
Archers were much employed in former times j but
they are now laid aside, excepting in Turkey and some
of the eastern countries ; where there are companies of
archers still subsisting in their armies, and with which
they did terrible execution at .the battle of Lepanto. 
As an exercise, the practice of archery is still kept up
in many places. See the article Archery.
In France, the officers who attend the lieutenants de
police and provosts, to make captures, seizures, arrests,
&c. are called archers; though their arms be only hal¬
berds or carabines. In this sense they say, the archers
of the grandprevot de Vhotel; of the prevot des mar-
chands ; the city archers; the archers de guet, or of
the watch, &c.—Small parties of archers, called
a.ho gens de marecZiaussee, are continually patrolling on
Archers
Archerv
the great roads, to secure them against robbers.—The
carriages of Lyons, &c. are always escorted by a party
of archers. To the diligence of these archers or mar- 
shal’s men, it is partly owing, that persons now travel
in all parts of France in the utmost security $ there be¬
ing fewer robberies on the highway in that whole king¬
dom in a year than about London in a week.
ARCHERY, the art or exercise of shooting with a
bow and arrow.
In most nations, the bow was anciently the principal
implement of war ; and by the expertness of the archers
alone was often decided the fate of battles and of em¬
pires.—In this island archery was greatly encouraged
in former times, and many statutes were made for the
regulation thereof j whence it was that the English
archers in particular became the best in Europe, and
procured them many signal victories.
The Artillery Company of London, though they have
long disused the weapon, are the remains of the ancient
fraternity of bowmen or archers. Artillery {artillerie) Archatlol
is a French term signifying archery; as the king'sgia, vol.J
lawyer is in that language styled artillier du roy: And
from that nation the English seem to have learnt at least
the cross-bow archery. We therefore find that William
the Conqueror had a considerable number of bowmen in
his army at the battle of Hastings, when no mention is
made of such troops on the side of Harold : And it is
supposed that these Norman archers shot with the arba-
let (or cross-bow), in which formerly the arrow was
placed in a groove, being termed in French a quadrel,
and in English a bolt.
Of the time when shooting with the long bow first
began among the English, at which exercise they after¬
wards became so expert, there appear no certain ac¬
counts. Their chronicles do not mention the use of ar¬
chery as expressly applied to the cross bow, or the long
bow, till the death of Richard I. who was killed by an
arrow at the siege of Limoges in Guienne, which Hem-
mingford mentions to have issued from a cross bow.—-
After this, which happened in 1199, there appear not
upon record any notices of archery for nearly 150
years, when an order was issued by Edward III. in the
15th year of his reign, to the sherives of most of the
English counties for providing joo white bows and 500
bundles of arrows, for the then intended war against
France. Similar orders are repeated in the following
years; with this difference only, that the sheriff of
Gloucestershire is directed to furnish 500 painted bows
as well as the same number of white. The famous
battle of Cressy was fought four years afterwards, in
which our chroniclers state that we had 2800 archers,
who were opposed to about the same number of the
French, together with a circumstance which seems to
prove, that by this time we used the long bow, whilst
the French archers shot with the arbalest. The cir¬
cumstance alluded to is as follows: Previously to the
engagement there fell a very heavy rain, which is said
to have much damaged the bows of the French, or
perhaps rather the strings of them. Now the long
bow (when unstrung) may be most conveniently cover¬
ed, so as to prevent the rain’s injuring it; nor is there
scarcely any addition to the weight from a case;
whereas the arbalest is of a most inconvenient form to
be sheltered from the weather. As therefore, in the
year J342, orders were issued to the sherives of each
county
ARC [ 545 1 ARC
^ery. county to provide 500 bows, with a proper proportion
—y—^ of arrows, it seems probable that these were long bows,
and not the arbalest.
At the above-mentioned battle, the English ascribed
their victory chiefly to the archers.—The battle of
Poictiers was fought A. D. 1356, and gained by the
same means.
Sometimes the archers gained great victories with¬
out even the least assistance from the men-at-arms; as
particularly, the decisive victory over the Scots at Ho-
mildon, A. D. 1402. In that bloody battle, the men-
at-arms did not strike a stroke, but were mere specta-
tors of the valour and victory of the archers. The
st. vol. t. ear] 0f X)0Ug]as> w]10 commanded the Scotch army in
* that action, enraged to see his men falling thick around
him by showers of arrows, and trusting to the goodness
of his armour (which had been three years in making),
accompanied by about eighty lords, knights, and gen¬
tlemen, in complete armour, rushed forward, and at¬
tacked the English archers sword-in-hand. But he
soon had reason to repent his rashness. The English
arrows were so sharp and strong, and discharged with
so much force, that no armour could repel them.
The earl of Douglas, after receiving five wounds, was
made prisoner; and all his brave companions were ei¬
ther killed or taken. Philip de Comines acdnowledges,
what our own writers assert, that the English archers
excelled those of every other nation; and Sir John
Fortescue says again and again,—“ that the might of
the realme of England standyth upon archers.” The
superior dexterity of their archers gave the English a
great advantage over their capital enemies the French
and Scots. The French depended chiefly on their men-
at-arms, and the Scots on their pikemen ; but the ranks
of both were often thinned and thrown into disorder bv
flights of arrows before they could reach their ene¬
mies.
James I. of Scotland, who had seen and admired the
dexterity of the English archers, and who was himself
an excellent archer, endeavoured to revive the exercise
of archery among his own subjects, by whom it had
been too much neglected. With this view, he ridicu¬
led their awkward manner of handling their bows, in
his humorous poem, of Christ’s Kirk on the Green }
and procured the following law to be made in his first
parliament, A. D. 1424, immediately after his return
to Scotland: “ That all men might busk thame to be
archares fra the be 12 years of age 5 and that ilk ten
punds worth of land thair be made how markes, and
gpeciallie near paroche kirks, quhairn upon halie dayis
men may cum, and at the leist schute thryse about, and
have usage of archarie.; and whasa usis not archarie, the
laird of the land sal rais of him a wedder ) and giff the
laird raises not the said pane, the king’s shiref, or his
ministers, sal rais it to the king.” But the untimely
death of that excellent prince prevented the effectual
execution of this law.
There is not found any act of parliament of Henry
V. in relation to archery, and all the orders in Rymer
till the battle of Agincourt relate to great guns, from
which he seems at first to have expected more consi¬
derable advantage than from the training of bowmen.
It should seem, however, that this sort of artillery,
from its unwieldiness, bad and narrow roads, together
with other defects, was as yet but of little use in mili-
Vol. II. Part II. f
tary operations. In the year 1417 this king therefore Archery,
ascribes his victory at Agincourt to the archers, and l—y——1
directs the sherives of many counties to pluck from
every goose six wing-feathers for the purpose of im¬
proving arrows, which are to be paid for by the
king.
In 1421, though the French had been defeated both
at Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt, by the English -ax- Archceolo.
chers, yet they still continued the use of the cross bow
for which x’eason, Henry V. as duke of Normandy,
confirms the charters and privileges of the balistarii,
who had been long established as a fraternity in his city
of Rouen.
In the fifth of Edward IV. an act passed, that
every Englishman, and Irishman dwelling with Eng¬
lishmen, shall have an English how of his own height,
which is directed to be made of yew, wych, hazel, ash,
or awburne, or any other reasonable tree according to
their power. Jhe next chapter also directs that butts
shall he made in every township, which the inhabitants
are obliged to shoot up and down every feast day, un¬
der the penalty of a halfpenny when they shall omit this
exercise.
In the 14th year, however, of this same king, it ap¬
pears by Rymer’s Fccdera, that 1000 archers were to
be sent to the duke of Burgundy, whose pay is settled
at sixpence a day, which was a considerable sum in these
times, when the value of money was so much higher
than it is at present. This circumstance seems to prove,
very strongly, the great estimation in which archers
were still held. In the same year, Edward, preparing
for a war with France, directs the sherives to procure
bows and arrows, “ as most specially requisite and ne¬
cessary.”
On the war taking place with Scotland, eight years
after this, Edward provides both ordnance and archers 5
so that though the use of artillery (as we now term it)
was then gaining ground, yet that of the bow and ar¬
row was not neglected.
Richard III. by his attention to archery, was able
to send 1000 bowmen to the duke of Bretagne, and
he availed himself of the same troops at the battle of
Bosworth.
During the reign of Henry VII. however, there ap¬
pears no order relative to gunpowder or artillery j whilst
on the other hand, in 1488, he directs a large levy of
archers to be sent to Brittany, and that they shall be
reviewed before they embark. In the 19th year of his
reign, the same king forbids the use of the cross bow,
because “ the long bow had been much used in this
realm, whereby honour and victory had been gotten a-
gainst outward enemies, the realm greatly defended,
and much more the dread of all Christian princes by
reason of the same.”
During the reign of Henry VIII. several statutes
were made for the promotion of archery. The 8th
Eliz. c. 10. regulates the price of bows, and the 13 th
Eliz. c. 14. enacts, that bow staves shall be brought in¬
to the realm from the Hanse towns and the Eastward 5
so that archery still continued to be an object of atten¬
tion in the legislature.
In Rymer’s Fcedera there is neither statute or pro¬
clamation of James I. on this head ; but it appears by
Dr Birch’s life of his son (Prince Henry), that at
eight years of age, he learned to shoot both with the
3 Z bow
ARC
[ 546 ]
ARC
Archery, bow and gun, whilst at the same time this prince bad in
—y—Iiis establishment an officer who was styled bow-bearer.
The king granted a second charter to the Artillery
Company, by which the powers they had received from
Henry VIII. were considerably extended.
Charles I. appears, from the dedication of a treatise
entitled The Bowman's Glory, to have been himself an
archer 5 and in the eighth year of his reign he issued a
commission to the chancellor, lord mayor, and several
of the privy council, to prevent the fields near London
being so enclosed as to “ interrupt the necessary and
profitable exercise of shooting,” as also to lower the
mounds where they prevented the view from one mark
to another.
Catharine of Portugal (queen to Charles II.) seems
fo have been much pleased with the sight at least of
this exercise; for in 1676, by the contribution of Sir
Edward Hungerford and others, a silver badge for the
marshal of the fraternity was made, weighing 25 oun¬
ces, and representing an archer drawing the long bow
(in the proper manner) to his ear, with the following
inscription : Begince Catharines Sagittarii. The sup¬
porters are two bowmen, with the arms of England and
Portugal. In 1682 there was a most magnificent ca¬
valcade and entertainment given by the Finsbury arch¬
ers, when they bestowed the titles of “ duke of Shore¬
ditch,” “ marquis of Islington,” &c. upon the most de¬
serving. Charles II. was present upon this occasion ;
but the day being rainy, he was obliged soon to leave
the field.
So lately as the year 1753 targets were erected in the
Finsbury fields, during the Easter and Whitsun holi¬
days ; when the best shooter was styled Captain for the
ensuing year, and the second Lieutenant.
Why this military weapon was so decisive in the
battles of former days, the following reasons may be
suggested.
Before the introduction of fire arms the enemy could
only be struck at a distance by slings, the bow used by
the ancients, or the cross bow ; to all which the Eng¬
lish long bow was infinitely superior. As for slings,
they never have been used in the more northern parts
of Europe by armies in the field; nor does their use
indeed seem to have been at all convenient or exten¬
sively practicable, for two principal reasons : In the
first place, slingers cannot advance in a compact body,
on account ol the space to be occupied by this weapon
in its rotatory motion ; in the next place, the weight
of the stones to be carried must necessarily impede the
slingers greatly in their movements. The bow of the
ancients again, as represented in all their reliefs, was a
mere toy compared with that of our ancestors ; it was
therefore chiefly used by the Parthians, whose attacks
(like those of the present Arabs) were desultory. As
for the cross bow, it is of a most inconvenient form for
carriage, even with the modern improvements; and, in
case of rain, could not easily be secured from the wea¬
ther. After the first shot, moreover, it could not be
recharged under a considerable time, whilst the bolts
were also heavy and cumbersome. The English long
bow, on the other hand, together with the quiver of ar¬
rows, was easily carried by the archer, as easily secured
from the rain, and recharged almost instantaneously.
It is not therefore extraordinary, that troops, who sole¬
ly used this most effectual weapon, should generally Ob-
3,
tain the victory, even when opposed to much more nu¬
merous armies. _ ^
It may be urged, that these losses having been ex¬
perienced by our enemies, must have induced them
to practise the same mode of warfare.—But it is
thought that the long bow was not commonly used
even in England till the time of Edward III. when
the victory at Cressy sufficiently proclaimed the supe¬
riority of that weapon. It required, however, so mush
training before the archer could be expert, that we
must not be surprised if soon afterwards this military
exercise was much neglected, as appears by the pre¬
ambles of several ancient statutes. Whilst the mili¬
tary tenures subsisted, the sovereign could only call up¬
on his tenants during war, who therefore attended with
the weapons they had been used to, and which requir¬
ed no previous practice. On the other hand, the Eng¬
lish archers were obliged by acts of parliament, even
in time of peace, to erect butts in every parish, and to
shoot on every Sunday and holiday, after repairing per¬
haps to these butts from a considerable distance, whilst
the expence of at least a y(?w bow is represented as be¬
ing a charge which they were scarcely equal to. The
king and parliaments of this country having thus com¬
pelled the inhabitants to such training, the English ar¬
mies had (it should seem) the same advantage over their
enemies as the exclusive use of fire-arms would give us
at present.
It appears also, by what hath been already stated,
that the long bow continued to be in estimation for
more than two centuries after gunpowder was intro¬
duced, which probably arose from muskets being very
cumbersome and unwieldy. It is well known that ra¬
pid movements are generally decisive of the campaign ;
and for such the archers were particularly adapted, be¬
cause, as they could not be annoyed at the same di¬
stance by the weapons of the enemy, they had scarcely*
any occasion for armour. The flower of ancient ar¬
mies likewise was the cavalry, against which the long
bow never failed to prevail, as man and horse were too
large objects to be missed : and hence the great num¬
ber of French nobility who were prisoners at Cressy,
Poictiers, and Agincourt; for being dismounted (if
not wounded) whilst they were also clad in heavy ar¬
mour, they could not make their escape. The same
reason accounts for the English obtaining these signal
victories with so inferior numbers ; for the nobility and
gentry thus becoming prisoners, the other parts of the
French army made little or no resistance. No wonder,
therefore, that in England the greatest anxiety was
shown to promote the exercise of this most important
weapon, and that so many statutes were made for that
purpose.
In Scotland, also, little less attention, though ap¬
parently not with equal success, was shown to the en¬
couragement of the art. In both kingdoms, it was
provided, that the importers of merchandise should
be obliged, along with their articles of commerce, to
import a certain proportion of bows, bow staves, and
shafts for arrows. In both, every person was enjoio-
ed to hold himself provided in bows and arrows, and
was prescribed the frequent use of archery. In both,
a restraint was imposed upon the exercise of other
games and sports, lest they should interfere with the
use of the bow; for it was intended, that people should
be
Archery,
A H C [ 547 ] ARC
rchery. mat^e expert in the use of it as a military weapon, by
habituating them to the familiar exercise of it as an in¬
strument of amusement. As there was no material dif¬
ference between the activity and bodily strength of the
two people, it might be supposed that the English and
Scots wielded the bow with no unequal vigour and dex¬
terity : but from undoubted historical monuments it ap¬
pears that the former had the superiority ; of which one
4 instance has been already narrated. By the regulations
prescribed in their statute book for the practice of arch¬
ery, we Hnd that the English shot a very long bow,
those who were arrived at their full growth and matu¬
rity being prohibited from shooting at any mark that
was not distant upwards of 220 yards.
In the use of the bow, great dexterity as well as
strength seems to have been requisite. Though we hear
of arrows at Cheviot Chase which were a yard long, yet
it is by no means to be supposed that the whole band
made use of such, or could draw them to the head.
The regulation of the Irish statute of Edward IV. viz.
that the bow should not exceed the height of the man,
is allowed by archers to have been well considered j
and as the arrow should be half the length of the bow,
this would give an arrow of a yard in length to those
only who were six feet high. A strong man of this
size in the present times cannot easily draw above 27
inches, if the bow is of a proper strength to do execu¬
tion at a considerable distance. At the same time it
must be admitted, that as our ancestors were obliged by
some of the old statutes to begin shooting with the long
bow at the age of seven, they might have acquired a
greater slight in this exercise than their descendants,
though the latter should be allowed to be of equal
strength.
As the shooting with the long bow was first introdu-
ted in England, and practised almost exclusively for
nearly two centuries, so it hath occasioned a peculiar
method of drawing the arrow to the ear and not to
the breast. That this is contrary to the usage of the
ancients is very clear from their reliefs, and from the
tradition of the Amazons cutting off one of their paps,
as it occasioned an impediment to their shooting. The
Finsbury archer is therefore represented in this attitude
of drawing to the ear, both in the Bowman's Glory,
and in the silver badge given by Catharine to the Ar¬
tillery Company. Not many years ago there was a
man named Topham, who exhibited surprising feats of
strength, and who happened to be’ at a public house
near Islington, to which the Finsbury archers resorted
after their exercise. Topham considered the long bow
as a plaything, only fit for a child j upon which one of
the archers laid him a bowl of punch, that he could not
draw the arrow two-thirds of its length. Topham ac¬
cepted this bet with the greatest confidence of winning j
but bringing the arrow to his breast instead of his ear,
he was greatly mortified by paying the wager, after
many fruitless efforts.
As to the distance to which an arrow can be shot
from a long bow with the best elevation of 45 de¬
grees, that must necessarily depend much both upon
the strength and slight of the archer ; but in general the
distance was reckoned from eleven to twelve score yards.
The butts for exercise, as above noticed, were direct¬
ed to be distant upwards bf 220 yards. Ihere is in¬
deed a tradition, that an attorney of Wigan in Lan¬
cashire (named Leigh) shot a mile in three flights j but Archery,
the same tradition states, that he placed himself in a 1—-y—-
very particular attitude, which cannot be used common¬
ly in this exercise. According to Neade, an archer
might shoot six arrows in the time of charging and dis¬
charging one musket.
The archers consider an arrow of from 20 to 24
drop weight to be the best for flight or hitting a
mark at a considerable distance, and that yew is the
best material of which they can be made. As to
the feathers, that of a goose is preferred ; it is also
wished, that the bird should be two or three years
old, and that the feather may drop of itself. Two
out of three feathers in an arrow are commonly
white, being plucked from the gander j but the third
is generally brown or gray, being taken from the
goose $ and, from this difference in point of colour,
informs the archer when the arrow is properly placed.
From this most distinguished part therefore the whole
arrow sometimes receives its name : And this, by-the- .
by, affords an explanation of the gray goose wing in
the ballad of Cheviot Chase. Arrows were armed
anciently with flint or metal heads, latterly with heads
of iron; of these there were Various forms and deno¬
minations. By an act of parliament made the 7th of
Henry IV. it was enacted. That for the future all the
heads for arrows and quarrels should be well boiled or
brased, and hardened at the points with steel j and
that every arrow head or quarrel should have the
mark of the maker; workmen disobeying this order,
were to be fined and imprisoned at the king’s will,
and the arrow heads or quarrels to be forfeited to the
crown.
Arrows were reckoned by sheaves, a sheaf consisting Grose on
of 24 arrows. They were carried in a quiver, called ^^0Ui.c
also an arrow case, which served for the magazine;
arrows for immediate use were worn in the girdle.
In ancient times phials of quicklime, or rather com¬
bustible matter, for burning houses or ships, were fixed
on the heads of arrows, and shot from long bows.
This has been also practised since the use of gun¬
powder. Neade says, he has known by experience,
that an archer may shoot an ounce of fireworks upon
an arrow twelve score yards. Arrows with wildfire,
and arrows for fireworks, are mentioned among the
stores at Newhaven and Berwick, in the 1st of Ed¬
ward VI.
The force with which an arrow strikes an object at a
moderate distance, may be conceived from the account
given by King Edward VI. in his journal; wherein he
says, that 100 archers of his guard shot before him two
arrows each, and afterwards altogether ; and that they
shot at an inch boax*d, which some pierced quite through
and struck into the other board; divers pierced it quite
through with the heads of their arrows, the board be¬
ing well-seasoned timber ; their distance from the mark
is not mentioned.
To protect our archers from the attacks of the ene¬
my’s horse, they carried long stakes pointed at both
ends ; these they planted in the earth, sloping before
them. In the first of Edward VI. 350 of these were in
the stores of the town of Berwick, under the article of
archers stakes ; there were also at the same time eight
bundles of archers stakes in Pontefract castle.
To prevent the bowstring from striking the left
3 Z 2 arm,
ARC [ 548 ] ARC
Archery, arm, the arm is covered with a piece of smooth leather,
 v—1 fastened on the outside of the arm ; this is called a
bracer; and to guard the fingers from being cut by
the bowstring, archers wore shooting gloves. Chaucer,
in his prologue to the Canterbury Tales, thus describes
an archer of his day :
And he was clade in cote and hode of grene,
A sheaf of peacock arwes bright and keen,
Under his belt he bare full thriftily :
Wei coude he dresse his takel yewmanly,
His arwes drouped not with fetheres lowe,
And in his hand he bare a mighty bowe,
A not bed hadde he, with broune visage,
Of wood craft coude he wel all the usage $
Upon his arms he had a gai bracer,
And by his side a swerd and a bokeler,
And on the other side a gaie daggere
Harneised wel, and sharpe as pointe of spere :
A cristofre on his breast of silver shene,
A horn he bare, the baudrick was of grene,
A forester was he sothely as I gesse.
Though archery continued to be encouraged by
the king and legislature for more than two centu¬
ries after the first knowledge of the effects of gun¬
powder, yet by the latter end of the reign of Hen¬
ry VIII. it seems to have been partly considered as
a pastime. Arthur, the elder brothei’ of Henry, is
said to have been fond of this exercise, insomuch that
a good shooter was styled Prince Arthur. We are
also informed that he pitched his tent at Mile End
in order to be present at this recreation, and that Hen¬
ry his brother also attended. When the latter after¬
wards became king, he gave a prize at Windsor to
those who should excel in this exercise *, and a capital
shot having been made, Henry said to Barlow (one of
his guards), “ If you still win, you shall be duke over
all archers.” Barlow therefore having succeeded, and
living in Shoreditch, was created duke thereof. Upon
another occasion, Henry and the queen were met by 200
archers on Shooter’s hill, which probably took its name
from their assembling near it to shoot at marks. This
king likewise gave the first charter to the Artillery
Company in the 29th year of his reign, by which they
are permitted to wear dresses of any colour except pur¬
ple and scarlet, to shoot not only at marks but birds, if
not pheasants or herons, and within two miles of the
royal palaces. They are also enjoined by the same
charter not to wear furs of a greater price than those of
the martin. The most material privilege, however, is,
that of indemnification for murder, if any person pas¬
sing between the shooter and the mark is killed, pro¬
vided the archers have first called out fast.
The following description of an archer, his how, and
accoutrements, is given in a MS. written in the time
of Queen Elizabeth. “ Captains and officers should be
skilful of that most noble weapon, and to see that their
soldiers according to their draught and strength have
good bowes, well nocked, well strynged, every strynge
whippe in their nocke, and in the myddes rubbed
with wax, hraser and shuting glove, some spare strynges
trymed as aforesaid, every man one shefe of arrows
with a case of leather defensible against the rayne*
and in the same fewer and twentie arrowes, whereof
eight of them should be lighter than the residue to
gall or astoyne the enemye with the hailshot of light Archery,
arrows, before they shall come within the danger of——y—.
the harquebuss shot. Let every man have a biigan- v
dine, or a little cote of plate, a skull or hufkyn, a
mawle of leade of five foote in lengthe, and a pike, and
the same hanging by his girdle, with a hook and a
dagger; being thus furnished, teach them by musters
to marche, shoote, and retire, keepinge their faces up¬
on the enemy’s. Sumtyme put them into great nowm-
bers, as to battell apparteyneth, and thus use them
often times practised, till they be perfectej ffor those
men in battel ne skirmish can not be spared. None
other weapone maye compare with the same noble wea¬
pon.”
The long bow, as already observed, maintained its
place in our armies long after the invention of fire¬
arms. Nor have there been wanting experienced sol¬
diers who were advocates for its continuance, and who
in many cases even pi’eferred it to the harquebus or
musket. King Charles I. twice granted special commis¬
sions under the great seal for enforcing the use of the
long bow. Hie first was in the 4th year of his reign:
but this was i-evoked by proclamation four years after¬
wards, on account of divers extortions and abuses com¬
mitted under sanction thereof. The second, anno 1633,
in the ninth year of his reign, to William Neade and
his son, also named William, wherein the former is sty¬
led an ancient archer, who had presented to the king a
warlike invention for uniting the use of the pike and
bow, seen and approved by him and his council of war j
whereof his majesty had granted them a commission
to teach and exercise his loving subjects in the said in¬
vention, which he particularly recommended the chief
officers of his trained bands to learn and practise ; and
the justices and other chief magistrates throughout Eng¬
land, are therein enjoined to use every means in their
power to assist Neade, his son, and all persons autho¬
rized by them in the furtherance, propagation, and prac¬
tice of this useful invention. Both the commissions and
proclamation are printed at large in Ilymer. At the
breaking out of the civil war, the earl of Essex issued
a precept, dated in November 1643, ^or stirring up all
well aflected people by benevolence, towards the rai¬
sing a company of archers for the service of the king
and parliament.
Archery with the long bow continues to he used as
a manly exercise by the inhabitants of Geneva, and in
many parts of Flanders } nor is it totally neglected in
Gx-eat Britain. There are several societies of archers
in England } the chief of which ai’e, the W\lodmen of
Arden, and the Toxopholite. But the most noted so¬
ciety of this kind, now existing, is
1 he Royal Company of Archers in Scotland.—The
ancient records of this Company having been destroyed
by fire about the beginning of the last century, no
authentic traces of their institution now remain. It is
said that they owe their origin to the commissioners
appointed in the reign of James I. of Scotland for en¬
forcing and overseeing the exercise of archery in dif¬
ferent counties. Those commissioners, who were in
general men of rank and power, picking out amongst
the better sort of people under their cognizance the
most expert archei'S, foi'med them into a company, and
upon perilous occasions made a present of their services
to the king as hb chief body guards $ in which situa¬
tion
ARC [ 549 ] ARC
tion they often distinguished themselves for their loyal¬
ly, their courage, and skill in archery. This rank of
the king’s principal body guards the Royal Company
still claim, within seven miles of the metropolis of Scot¬
land.
Certain it is, that by an act of the privy council of
Scotand, in 1677, this company was recognized under
the name and title of “ His Majesty’s Company of
Archers and by the same act a piece of plate of
the value of 20I. sterling was ordered to be given to
be shot for by them at their annual parades, called
jrEAPON-shawings, and to be called T/ie King's Prize.
At this period the Royal Company consisted, as it
does at present, of the principal nobility and gentry of
Scotland. But their unfortunate attachment to anti¬
revolution principles, upon that event’s taking place,
put almost a period to their existence : Their public pa¬
rades or marches were discontinued, and the royal prize
was withheld.
Upon the accession of Queen Anne, their former
splendour was revived-, and in the year 1703 they ob¬
tained a royal charter, confirming in general terms all
their former rights and privileges, and conferring others
upon them. But their partiality to the family of Stuart
was at various after periods the cause of a temporary
prosperity and decline.
These unhappy difi’erences of opinion having totally
subsided, the Royal Company are now more numerous
and flourishing than ever, and perhaps even more dex¬
terous archers. His present Majesty, as a mark of his
royal pati'onage and approbation, has been pleased to
revive the royal prize, which for the first time was shot
for upon the 28th of July 1788 by a numerous and re¬
spectable meeting.
The Woodmen of Arden and the Toxophilite have
lately been pleased to admit the members of the Royal
Company to the freedom of their societies : these grants
have been followed by reciprocal diplomas from the
Royal Company 5 so that the three chief societies of
archers in Britain may be said to be now incorporated
into one.
The prizes belonging to this Company, and which
are annually shot for, are, 1. A silver arrow, given by
the town of Musselburgh, which appears to have been
shot for as early as the year 1603. The victor in this,
as in the other prizes, except the king’s prize, has the
custody of it for a year, then returns it with a medal
appended, on which are engraved any motto and de¬
vice which the gainer’s fancy dictates. 2. A silver
arrow given by the town of Peebles, A. D. 1626. 3. A
silver arrow given by the city of Edinburgh, A. I).
1709. 4. A silver punch bowl of about the value of
50I. made of Scottish silver at the expence of the
Company, A. H. 1720. And, 5. The king’s prize
above mentioned, which becomes the absolute property
of the winner. All these prizes are shot for at what is
termed Rovers, the marks being placed at the distance
of 185 yards.
Besides these, there is another prize annually con¬
tended for at butt or point-blank distance, called the
Goose. The ancient manner of shooting for this prize,
was, a living goose was built in a turf butt, having
the head only exposed to view j and the archer who.
first hit the goose’s head was entitled to the goose as his
reward* But this custom, on account of its barbarity.
has been long ago laid aside y and in place of the goose
head, a mark of about an inch diameter is affixed upon
each butt, and the archer who first hits this mark is
captain of the butt shooters for a year.
The affairs of the Company are managed by a preses
and six counsellors, who are chosen annually by the
whole members. The council are vested with the
power of receiving or rejecting the candidates for ad¬
mission, and of appointing the Company’s officers civil
and military.
The Royal Company now consists of above looa
members, among whom are most of the Scottish no¬
bility of the first distinction. A number of the Com¬
pany meet weekly during the summer season at Edin¬
burgh, in the Meadows, where they exercise themselves
in shooting at butts or rovers : And in the adjoining
ground they have a handsome building, erected withijj
these 12 years, with suitable offices, whither they ad¬
journ after their exercise, and where they hold their
elections and other meetings relative to the business of
the society.
The uniform of the Royal Company of Archers is
tartan, lined with white, and trimmed with green and
white fringes ; a white sash with green tassels $ and a
blue bonnet, with a St Andrew’s cross and feathers.
The Company have two standards. The first of these
bears on one side Mars and Venus encircled in a wreath
of thistles, with this motto, “ In peace and war.” On
the other, a yew tree, with two men dressed and equip¬
ped as archers, encircled as the former'} motto, Dai
gloria vires. The other standard displays, on one side,
a lion rampant gules, on a field or, encircled with a
wreath} on the top, a thistle and crown } mottOj Ne¬
mo me impune lacesset. On the other, St Andrew on
the cross, on a field argent} at the top, a crown ; mot¬
to, Dulce pro patria periculum.
ARCHES court, in English ecclesiastical polity,
is a court of appeal, belonging to the archbishop of
each province ; whereof the judge is called the dean of
the arches, because he anciently held his court in the
church of St Mary le bow, {Sancta Maria de arcubits'),
though all the principal spiritual courts are now holden
at Doctors Commons. His proper jurisdiction is only
over the 13 peculiar parishes belonging to the archbi¬
shop in London} but the office of dean of the arches
having been for a long time united with that of the
archbishop’s principal office, he now, in right of the
last-mentioned office, receives and determines appeals
from the sentences of all inferior ecclesiastical courts
within the province. And from him there lies an ap¬
peal to the king in chancery (that is, to a court of de¬
legates appointed under the king’s great seal), by sta¬
tute 25th Hen. VIII. c. 19. as supreme head of the
English church, in the place of the bishop of Rome, who
formerly exercised this jurisdiction} which circum¬
stance alone will furnish the reason why the Popish cler¬
gy were so anxious to separate the spiritual court from
the temporal.
ARCHETYPE, the first model of a work, which
is copied after to make another like it. Among mint-
ers, it is used for the standard weight by which the
others are adjusted. The ax-chetypal world, among
Platonists, means the world as-it existed in the idea of .
God before the visible creation*.
ARCHEUS, from the principal, , chief, ms
first
ARC t 556 ] ARC
Arcbea* first mover) j a sort of primum mobile set up by Hel-
0 moot, to superintend the animal economy, and pre¬
serve it. It is akin to Plato’s anima mundi. Hippo¬
crates uses the words <pv<r<j, to signify the former
healthy state before the attack of the disease.
ARCHIACOLYTHUS (from chief, and
minister'), an ancient dignity in cathedral
churches : the ministers whereof were divided into four
orders or degrees, viz. priests, deacons, subdeacons, and
acolythi; each of which had their chiefs. The chief
of the acolythi was called archiacolythus.
ARCHIATER, Archiatrus, properly denotes
chief physician of a prince who retains several. The
word is formed ofot^jj, principium, “ chief j” and <«Tg«y,
medicus, a “ physician.”
ARCHIDAPIFER. (from and dapifer,
sewer,”) or chief sewer, is a great officer of the em¬
pire. The elector of Bavaria is archidapifer. The
palatine of the Rhine at one time pretended this office
was annexed to his palatinate } but he has since de¬
sisted.
ARCHIEROSYNES, in the Grecian antiquity, a
high priest vested with authority over the rest of the
priests, and appointed to execute the more sacred and
mysterious rites of religion.
ARCHIGALLUS, in antiquity, the high priest of
Cybele, or the chief of the eunuch priests of that god¬
dess, called Galli.
ARCHIGERONTES (from and old),
in antiquity, the chiefs or masters of the several com¬
panies of artificers at Alexandria. Some have mista¬
ken the archigerontes for the arch-priests appointed to
take the confession of those who were condemned to the
mines.
ARCHIGUBERNUS, Archiguberneta, or Ar-
CHIGUbernites, in antiquity, the commander of the
imperial ship, or that which the emperor was aboard of.
Some have confounded the office of archigubernus with
that of preefectus classis, or admiral, but the former was
under the command of the latter. Potter takes the pro¬
per office of the archiguberneta to have been, to ma¬
nage the marine affairs, to provide commodious har¬
bours, and order all things relating to the sailing of the
fleet, except what related to war.
ARCHIL, Archilla, Rocella, Orsielle, is a
whitish moss which grows upon rocks, in the Canary
and Cape de Verd islands, and yields a rich purple tinc¬
ture, fugitive, indeed, but extremely beautiful. This
weed is imported to us as it is gathered. Those who
prepare it for the use of the dyer, grind it betwixt
stones, so as to thoroughly bruise, but not to reduce it
into powder; and then moisten it occasionally with a
strong spirit of-urine, or urine itself mixed with quick¬
lime : in a few days it acquires a purplish red, and at
length a blue colour. In the first it is called Archil;
in the latter, Lactnns or Litmase.
The dyers rarely employ this drug by itself, on ac¬
count of its dearness and the perishableness of its beau-
•ty. The chief use they make of it is, for giving a
bloom to other colours, as pinks, &c. This is effect¬
ed by passing the dyed cloth or silk through hot wa¬
ter lightly impregnated with the archil. "The bloom
thus communicated soon decays upon exposure to the
air. Mr Hellot informs us, that by the addition of a
little solution of tin, the drug gives a durable dye;
that its colour is at the same time changed towards a
scarlet; and that it is the more permanent in proper- j|
tion as it recedes the more from its natural colour. Archik
Prepared archil very readily gives out its colour to
water, to volatile spirits, and to spirit of wine; it is
the substance principally made use of for colouring the
spirits of thermometers. As exposure to the air de¬
stroys its colour upon cloth, the exclusion of the air pro¬
duces a like effect in these hermetically sealed tubes,
the spirits of large thermometers becoming in the com¬
pass of a few years colourless. M. I’Abbe Nollet ob¬
serves (in the French Memoirs for the year 1742),
that the colourless spirit, upon breaking the tube, soon
resumes its colour, and this for a number of times suc¬
cessively $ that a watery tincture of archil, included
in the tubes of thermometers, lost its colour in three
days j and that, in an open deep vessel, it became
colourless at the bottom, while the upper part retained
its colour. See CoLOUR-Making.
A solution of archil in water, applied on cold maf-
ble, stains it of a beautiful violet or purplish blue colour,
far more durable than the colour which it communi¬
cates to other bodies. M. du Fay says he has seen
pieces of marble stained with it, which in two years
had suffered no sensible change. It sinks deep into the
marble, sometimes above an inch ; and at the same
time spreads upon the surface, unless the edges be
bounded by wax or other like substances. It seems to
make the marble somewhat more brittle.
Linnaeus informs us, in the Swedish Transactions
for the year 1742, that the true archil moss is to be
found on the western coasts of England.
ARCHILOCHIAN, a term in poetry, applied to
ft sort of verses, of which Archilochus was the inventor,
consisting of seven feet 5 the four first whereof are ordi¬
narily dactyls, though sometimes spondees 5 the three
last trochees, as in Horace,
Solvitur acris hyems, grata vice veris et Favoni.
ARCHILOCHUS, a famous Greek poet and mu^
sician, was, according to Herodotus, cotemporary with
Candaules and Gyges, kings of Lydia, who flourished
about the 14th Olympiad, 724 years before Christ.
But he is placed much later by modern chronologists j
viz. by Blair 686, and by Priestley 660 years, before
Christ.
He was born at Paros, one of the Cyclades. His fa¬
ther Telesicles was of so high a rank, that he was cho¬
sen by his countrymen to consult the oracle at Del-
phos concerning the sending a colony to Thasos : a
proof that he was of one of the most distinguished fa¬
milies upon the island. However, he is said to have
sullied his birth by an ignoble marriage with a slave
called Enipo, of ■which alliance our poet musician was
the fruit.
Though Archilochus showed an early genius and at¬
tachment to poetry and music, these arts did not pre¬
vent his going into the army, like other young men of
his birth j but in the first engagement at which he was
present, the young poet, like Horace, and like our own
Suckling, lost his buckler, though he saved his life by
the help of his heels. It is much easier, said he, to get
a new buckler than a new existence. This pleasantry,
however, did not save his reputation ; nor could his
poetry or prayers prevail upon Lycambes, the father
of
ARC [5;
rekilo- of his mistress, to let him marry his (laughter, though
;h»». she had been long promised to him. After these mor-
tifications, his life seems to have been one continued
tissue of disgrace and resentment.
Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo.
Hor. Art. Poet. 79.
Archilochus, with fierce resentment warm’d,
Was with his own severe iambics arm’d. Francis.
The rage of Archilochus was proverbial in antiquity ;
which compared the provoking this satirist to the tread-
ing upon a serpent: A comparison not very severe, if
it be true that Lycambes, and, as some say, his three
daughters, were so mortified by his satire, as to be dri¬
ven to the consolation of a halter.
In this piece, many adventures are mentioned, full
of defamation, and out of the knowledge of the pu¬
blic. There were likewise many loose passages in it;
and it is said to have been on account of this satire
that the Lacedsenionians laid a prohibition on his
ral verses *.
x. lib. However, according to Plutarch, there is no bard of
5'3' antiquity by whom the two arts of poetry and music
have been so much advanced as by Archilochus. To
him is attributed particularly the sudden transition from
one rhythm to another of a different kind, and the
manner of accompanying those irregular measures upon
the lyre. Heroic poetry, in hexameter verse, seems to
have been solely in use among the more ancient poets
and musicians ; and the transition from one rhythm to
another, which lyric poetry required, was unknown to
them $ so that if Archilochus was the first author of
this mixture, he might with propriety be styled the In¬
ventor of Lyric Poetry, which, after his time, became
a species of versification wholly distinct from heroic.—
To him is likewise ascribed the invention of Epodes.
See Erode.
Our poet-musician is generally ranked among the
first victors at the Pythic games: and we learn from
Pindar, that his muse was not always a termagant ;
for though no mortal escaped her rage, yet she was at
times sufficiently tranquil and pious to dictate hymns
in praise of the gods and heroes. One in particular,
written in honour of Hercules, acquired him the ac¬
clamations of all Greece ; for he sung it in full assem¬
bly at the Olympic games, and had the satisfaction of
receiving from the judges the crown of victory conse¬
crated to real merit. This hymn, or ode, was after¬
wards sung in honour of every victor at Olympia, who
had no poet to celebrate his particular exploits.
Archilochus was at last slain by one Callondax Co¬
rax, of the island of Naxos ; who, though he did it in
fight, according to the laws of war, was driven out of
the temple of Delphi, by command of the oracle, for
having deprived of life a man consecrated to the
Muses.
The names of Homer and Archilochus were equally
revered and celebrated in Greece, as the two most ex¬
cellent poets which the nation had ever produced. This
appears from an epigram in the Anthologia $ and from
Cicero, who ranks him with poets of the first class, and
in his Epistles tells us, that the grammarian Aristopha¬
nes, the most rigid and scrupulous critic of his time, ,
i ] ARC
used to say, that the longest poem of Archilochus al- Ar*hilo-
ways appeared to him the most excellent. cbus
ARCHIMAGUS, the high priest of the Persian H.
Magi or worshippers of fire. He resided in the high- Ar^'gme”
est fire temple *, which was held in the same veneration
with them as the temple of Mecca among the Maho¬
metans. Zoroaster first settled it at Balch ; but after
the Mahometans had overrun Persia in the 7th centu¬
ry, the Archimagus was forced to remove from thence
into Kerman, a province of Persia, lying on the south¬
ern ocean, where it hath continued to this day. Da¬
rius Hystaspes took upon himself the dignity of Ar¬
chimagus : for Porphyry tells us, he ordered before
his death, that, among the other titles, it should be en¬
graven on his monument, that he had been Master of
the Magi; which plainly implies that he had borne
this office among them, for none but the Archimagus
was master of the whole sect. From hence it seems to
have proceeded, that the kings of Persia were ever af¬
ter looked on to be of the sacerdotal tribe, and were al¬
ways initiated into the sacred order of the Magi, before
they took on them the crown, and were inaugurated in¬
to the kingdom.
ARCHIMANDRITE, in ecclesiastical history,
was a name given by the ancient Christians to what
we now call an abbot. Father Simon observes, that
the word mandrite is Syriac, and signifies a solitary
monk.
ARCHIMEDES, one of the most eminent of the
ancient mathematicians, was born at Syracuse in Sici¬
ly, about the year 180 before the Christian era. Hie-
ro, king of Syracuse, deemed it an honour to have
this philosopher for his relative and friend. History
does not inform us, to whom he was indebted for the
rudiments of literature, but he flourished about 50
years after Euclid. It is reported, that he was in¬
debted to Egypt for much of his knowledge j but
other accounts indicate, that he conferred more know¬
ledge than he received from that celebrated nation $
and, in particular, Diodorus mentions, that Egypt
was indebted to him for the invention of the screw-
pump, for drawing off water. And the same author
narrates, that he was the inventor of several other use¬
ful machines, which conveyed his fame to every quar¬
ter of the globe. The following passage from Livy,
proves, that he was dexterous both for the inventing
warlike machines, and also for his accurate observa¬
tion of the heavenly bodies : “ Unicus spectator cseli
siderumque, mirabilior tamen inventor ac machina-
tor bellicorum tormentorum,” &e. lib. xxiv. It ap¬
pears also, that in Cicero’s time, he had become pro¬
verbial for his skill in solving problems. In a letter to
Atticus, he informs him, that he is now freed from a
difficulty, which he termed an Archimedian problem,
lib. xiii. ep. 28.
It may perhaps be impossible distinctly to ascertain
the different inventions of this great man ; but from
the following passage, it appears that he formed a glass
sphere, or some kind of planetarium, which, with no
small degree of accuracy, represented the phenomena
of the heavenly bodies. Hence says Claudian
Jupiter, in parvo cum cerneret cethera vitro,
Risit, et ad superos talia dicta dedit:
Huccine
ARC
Arcliime- Huccine mortalis progressa potentia curie1?
des. Jam mens in fragile ludetur orbe labor.
y"——^ Jura poli, rerumque fidem, legesque dear urn,
Ecce Syracosius transtulit arti senex.
Inclusus variis famulatur spintus astns,
Et vertim certis motibus urget opus.
Percurrit proprium mentitus signifer annum.
Et simulata novo Cynthia mense redit.
Jamque suum volvens audax industria mundum
Gaudet, et humana sidera mente regit.
Quidfalso insontem tonitru Salmonea miror ?
Emula naturce parva reperta manus.
“ When in a glass’s narrow sphere confin’d,
Jove saw the fabric of th’ Almighty mind j
He smil’d, and said, ‘ Can mortals art alone
Our heav’nly labours mimic with their own ?
The Syracusan’s brittle work contains
Th’ eternal law that through all nature reigns.
Fram’d by his art, see stars unnumber’d burn,
And in their courses rolling orbs return j
His sun, through various signs describe the year,
And every month his mimic moons appear.
Our rival’s laws his little planets bind,
And rule their motions by a human mind :
Salmoneus could our thunder imitate ;
But Archimedes can a world create.”
In the following lines the same machine is mention¬
ed by Ovid.
Arte Syracosia suspensus in acre cl an so ^
Stat globus, immensiparva figura poli.
Ovid, Fast. vi. 277.
Vitruvius mentions a fact, which proves Archime¬
des’s knowledge in the doctrine of specific gravity.
Hiero, the king, having given a certain quantity of
gold wherewith to make a golden crown, and suspect¬
ing that the workmen had stolen part of the gold and
substituted silver in its stead, he applied to Archimedes
to employ his ingenuity in detecting the fraud. Rumi¬
nating upon this subject when he was bathing himself,
he observed that he dislodged a quantity of water
corresponding to the bulk of his own body $ therefore,
instantly quitting the bath with all the eagerness natu¬
ral to an inventive mind upon a new discovery, he run
into the streets naked, crying, Evgvxx ! Evgqxx ! I have
foutid it out! I have found it out! Then taking one mass
of gold and another of silver, each equal in weight to
the crown j he carefully observed the quantity of fluid
which they alternately displaced, when introduced in
the same vessel full of water. Next he ascertained how
much water was displaced by the crown when put into
the same vessel full of water j and, upon comparing
the three quantities together, he ascertained the exact
proportions of gold and silver, of which the crown was
composed.
Archimedes was well acquainted with the mechani¬
cal powers. His celebrated saying with regard to the
power of the lever has been often repeated, “ Give
me a place to stand upon, and I will move the earth.”
In order to shew Hiero the effect of mechanical
powers, it is said, that aided by ropes and pulleys, he
drew towards him a galley, which lay on the shore
manned and loaded: but the displays of his mechani¬
cal skill mentioned by Marcellas at the siege of Syra-
[ 552 ] A R. c.
cuse, were long deemed almost incredible ; until the Arcln'm
after improvements in mechanics have demonstrated des.
them practicable. He harassed the vessels of the be- 't*
siegers, both when they approached and kept at a di¬
stance from the city. When they approached, he
sunk them by means of long and huge beams of wood j
or, by means of grappling hooks placed at the extremi¬
ty of levers, he hoisted up the vessels into the air, and
dashed them to pieces either against the walls or the
rocks. When the enemy kept at a distance, he em¬
ployed machines which threw from the walls such a
quantity of stones as shattered and destroyed their ves-'
sels. In short, his mechanical genius supplied strength
and courage to the city, and filled the Romans with
astonishment and terror. Until Buffon invented and
framed a burning glass, composed of about 400 glass
panes, capable of setting fire to wood at the distance of
200 feet, and of melting lead and tin at the distance of
120 feet, and silver at the distance of 50 ; the account
of Archimedes’s instrument for burning ships at a great
distance by means of the rays of the sun, was deemed
fabulous and impossible.
But, however eminent for mechanical invention,
he was still more eminent for the investigation of ab¬
stract truths 5 and the formation of conclusive demon¬
strations in the branches of pure geometry. Plutarch
also mentions, that Archimedes himself esteemed me¬
chanical invention greatly inferior in value to those
speculations which convey irresistible conviction to the
mind. His geometrical works afford numerous proofs
of his success in this field of science. It is reported,
that he was often so deeply engaged in mathematical
speculations, as both to neglect his food and the care
of his person j and at the bath he would sometimes
draw geometrical figures in the ashes, and sometimes
upon his own body when it was anointed, according
to the custom of that time. He valued himself so much
upon the discovery of the ratio between the sphere and
the containing cylinder, that, indifferent to all his other
inventions, he ordered his friends to engrave upon his
tomb a cylinder containing a sphere, with an inscription
explanatory of its nature and use.
It must be extremely painful to every humane mind,
but particularly to every lover of philosophic merit, to
learn, that when Syracuse was taken by storm, he,
being ignorant of that fact, was run through the body,
when engaged in drawing a geometrical figure upon
the sand. As Marcellus had given express orders that
both his person and his house should be held sacred j
this appears to have happened through ignorance, and
therefore removes a great part of the odium from the
Roman name. This mournful event happened in the
I42d Olympiad, or 212 years before the Christian era.
Marcellus, in the midst of his triumphant laurels, la¬
mented the death of Archimedes, conferred upon him
an honourable burial, and took his surviving relations
under his protection ; but greater honour was confer¬
red. upon him when the philosopher of Arpinum, 140
years after, went in search of his long-neglected tomb.
Hence, says Cicero, “ I diligently sought to discover
the sepulchre of Archimedes, which the Syracusans
had totally neglected, and suffered to be overgrown
with thorns and briers. Recollecting some verses,
said to be inscribed on the tomb, which mentioned,
that on the top was placed a sphere with a cylinder.
ARC [ 5
chime- looked round me upon every object at the Agrigen-
des. tine gate, the common receptacle of the dead. At
last I observed a little column which just rose above
the thorns, upon which was placed the figure of a
sphere and cylinder. ‘ This,’ said I to the Syracusan
nobles who were with me, ‘ This must, I think, be
what I am seeking.’ Several persons were immedi¬
ately employed to clear away the weeds, and lay
open the spot. As soon as a passage was opened, we
drew near, and found on the opposite base the in¬
scription, with nearly half the latter part of the verses
worn away. Thus would this most famous, and for¬
merly most learned, city of Greece have remained a
stranger to the tomb of one of its most ingenious ci¬
tizens, had it not been discovered by a man of Arpi-
num.”
Several works of this most celebrated mathematician
have escaped the wreck of time. Of abstract geometry
we have a treatise “ on the Sphere and Cylinder,” an¬
other “ on the Dimension of the Circle, or the Propor¬
tion between the Diameter and the Circumference ; on
Obtuse Conoids and Spheroids 5 on Spiral Lines ; and
on the Quadrature of the Parabola.” Of his mechanics
Archimedes has left a “ Treatise on Equiponderants,
or Centres of Gravity ", and in hydrostatics, a “ Trea¬
tise concerning Bodies floating on Fluids j” and a geo¬
metrical piece, entitled Assumpta or Lemmata. His
other works are either lost or remain unpublished.
( Gen. Biog.).
53 1 ARC
ARCHIPELAGO, in Geography, a general term Ardiipe-
signifying a sea interrupted with islands j it is however lato
more especially applied to that lying between Europe , I)
and Asia, which contains the islands anciently called ct'
Cyclades and Spoi'adss. See these two words.
ARCHIPHERACUTE, ministers in the Jewish
synagogues appointed to read and interpret the Pera-
kim, or titles and heads of the law and the prophets.
ARCIIPRESBYTER, or Archpriest, a priest es¬
tablished in some dioceses with a superiority over the
rest. He was anciently chosen out of the college of
presbyters at the pleasure of the bishop. These arch¬
presbyters were of much the same nature with deans in
the cathedral churches, as the college of presbyters an¬
swers to the chapter. See Presbyter.
ARCH1SYNAGOGCES, the chief of the syna¬
gogue ; the title of an officer among the Jews, who
presided in their synagogues and assemblies. The num¬
ber of these officers was not fixed, nor the same in all
places ; there being 70 in some, and in others only
one. They are sometimes called princes of the syna¬
gogue, and had a power of excommunicating such as
deserved that punishment.
ARCHITECT, a person skilled in architecture, or
the art of building j who forms plans and designs for
edifices, conducts the work, and directs the several ar¬
tificers employed in it. The word is derived from
princeps, and Tix-rw, faber, “ workman j” q. cL
the principal workman.
ARCHITECTURE,
TN the utmost latitude of the word, signifies the art of
A building in general ; but the term is most frequent¬
ly applied only to the construction of such buildings as
are necessary for the purposes of civil life, such as
houses, churches, halls, bridges, porticoes, &c.
History of Architecture.
1
I aerials
g used in
b ling.
The origin of this art, like that of most others, is
totally unknown. We are assured, however, that it is
as old as Cain : for Moses tells us that he built a city;
though what w7ere the materials, or how the buildings
were constructed, we are entirely ignorant. It is com¬
monly said, that the first materials employed in build¬
ing were branches and twigs of trees, wherewith men
constructed huts ; such as the wigivams in use among
the American Indians at present. This, however, ap¬
pears disputable. The natural shelter afforded by hol¬
lows in the sides of mountains or rocks, it may be sup¬
posed, would much more readily suggest the idea of
using stones and earth as materials for building houses.
Indeed, considering that tents were not invented before
the days of Jabal, Tubal Cain’s brother, it is very pro¬
bable that such temporary houses as the Indian wig¬
wams were not originally known 5 otherwise the me¬
thod of covering poles with the skins of beasts, instead
of small branches or twigs, must very soon have taken
place. These temporary houses seem to have come in¬
to use only when men began to lead an idle wandering
Vol. II. Part IT. f
life, like the Tartars, and could not be at the trouble
of constructing durable habitations in every place where
they were obliged to wander with their cattle 5 and Ja¬
bal perhaps from them took the hint of making portable
houses or tents. Accordingly we see, that no nations,
except those who are in a perpetually unsettled state,
make use of such wretched materials. Even in Ame¬
rica, where the human race has appeared in the rudest
form, they were no sooner collected into great bodies
under the emperors of Mexico and Peru, than stone
buildings began to be erected.
We are not, therefore, to look for the origin of ar¬
chitecture in any single nation } but in every nation,
when the inhabitants began to leave off their savage
way of life, and to become civilized: and if there is
any nation to be found which hath been always in a ci¬
vilized state, we may he assured that architecture hath
always had an existence there. But whatever may he
in this, the origin of regular buildings hath been de¬
duced from the construction of the meanest huts in a
very natural and plausible manner by several authors.
“ Anciently (says Vitruvius) men lived in woods,
and inhabited caves; hut in time, taking perhaps ex¬
ample from birds, who with great industry build their 2
nests, they made themselves huts. At first they made Primitive
these huts, very probably, of a conic figure; becausehuls*
that is a figure of the simplest structure; and, like the ^^XYII
birds, whom they imitated, composed them of branches r
of trees, spreading them wide at the bottom, and join-
4 A ing
554
.3.
Their im¬
provement.
Fig. 2.
!%• 3*
4
State of ar¬
chitecture
sunong tile
Egyptians.
A R C H I T
ing them in a point at the top j covering the whole
with reeds, leaves, and clay, to screen them from tem¬
pests and rain.
“ But finding the conic figure inconvenient on ac-
■ count of its inclined sides, they changed both the form
and construction of their huts, giving them a cubical
figure, and building them in the following manner:
Having marked out the space to be occupied by the
hut, they fixed in the ground several upright trunks
of trees to form the sides, filling the intervals between
them with branches closely interwoven and covered
with clay. The sides being thus completed, four large
beams were placed on the upright trunks ; which, be¬
ing well joined at the angles, kept the sides firm, and
likewise served to support the covering or roof of the
building, composed of many joists, on which were laid
several beds of reeds, leaves, and clay.
“ Insensibly mankind improved in the art of build¬
ing, and invented methods to make their huts lasting
and handsome as well as convenient. They took off
the bark, and other unevennesses, from the trunks of the
trees that formed the sides : raised them, probably above
the dirt and humidity, on stones 5 and covered each
of them with a flat stone or slate, to keep off the rain.
The spaces between the ends of the joists were closed
with clay, wax, or some other substance ; and the ends
of the joists covered with thin boards cut in the man¬
ner of triglyphs, ffhe position of the roof wTas like¬
wise altered : for being, on account of its flatness, un¬
fit to throw of! the rains that fell in great abundance
during the winter season, they raised it in the middle $
giving it the form of a gable roof, by placing rafters on
ihe joists, to support the earth and other materials that
composed the covering.
“ From this simple construction the orders of archi¬
tecture took their rise. For when buildings of wood
were set aside, and men began to erect solid and state¬
ly edifices of stone, they imitated the parts which ne¬
cessity had introduced into the primitive huts ; inso¬
much that the upright trees, with the stones at each
end of them, were the origin of columns, bases, and ca¬
pitals, and the beams, joists, rafters, and strata of ma¬
terials that formed the covering, gave birth to archi¬
traves, frizes, triglyphs, and cornices, with the corona,
the mutules, the modillions, and the dentils.
“ The first buildings were in all likelihood rough
and uncouth , as the men of those times had neither
experience nor tools : but when, by long experience
and reasoning upon it, the artists had established cer¬
tain rules, had invented many instruments, and by great
practice had acquired a facility in executing their ideas,
they made quick advances towards perfection, and at
length discovered certain manners of building, which
succeeding ages have regarded with the highest vene¬
ration.”
. Among the ancient Egyptians, Assyrians, and Per¬
sians, this art was carried to an incredible length.
The pyramids of Egypt are such structures as would
exceed the power of the most potent monarch on earth
to raise at this day. 1 he largest of these, according
to the account of M. Goguet, is near 500 feet high
and contains 313,590 solid fathoms. It is composed
of stones enormously large; many of them being 30
feet long, four feet high, and three in breadth ; and
all this huge mass of building was coated over with
a
E C T U II E. Histor
square flags of marble.—The structure called the laby-
rint/i, in the same country, according to Herodotus,
who saw it, excelled every thing which he could have
conceived from the imagination either of himself or
others. Within the same circuit of walls they had en¬
closed 3000 halls, 12 of which were of a singular form
and beauty; and of these, half were above, and half
below ground; and the whole was terminated by a py¬
ramid 40 fathoms high. All this prodigious mass of
building was composed of white marble, and the Avails
were adorned Avith engravings.—The obelisks were not
less astonishing ; the largest of them being entire pieces
of granite, no less than 180 feet high.—Near Andera, I
in Upper Egypt, are the ruins of a palace of gray gra¬
nite, the ceilings of which are supported by columns of
such thickness, that four men can scarcely fathom them.
The ceilings themselves are composed of stones of the
same kind, six or seven feet in breadth and 18 feet in
length. The grand hall is H2 feet long, 60 high, and
58 broad. The roof of the whole edifice is a terrace,
on which the Arabs formerly built a very large village,
the ruins of which are still visible.
Among the Babylonians and Persians, too, such im-Among
mense piles of building ha\’e been raised, as appear ut- Babylon!
terly inconceivable and incredible to many modern au_ans®nd
thors, where their former grandeur is not demonstrable ^cls*ar,s
by ruins visible at this day. The ruins of Persepolis,
the ancient capital of Persia, were so stupendous in the
time of Avicenna the Arab physician, that his coun¬
trymen could not believe such structures possible to be
erected but by evil spirits. Of their extraordinary
magnificence, indeed, avc may have some idea from the
account of the staircases belonging to the palace. The
remains, some time ago, consisted of 95 steps of white
marble, so broad and flat, that 12 horses might conve¬
niently go up abreast.
In these vast structures, however, the nations of whom Their
Ave speak seem to have regarded the greatness, rather building:
than the elegance or usefulness of their works. In themorere'
pyramids and obelisks of Egypt this is exceedingly^^
conspicuous ; but whether it Avas so in the labyrinth or^esftha
in the palace at Thebes above mentioned, it is impos-eleganct
sible to determine, unless the buildings were entire, and
we kneAV for what purpose they had been designed. If
the kings Avho built the pyramids designed to immor¬
talize their memories by building, they certainly could
not have fallen upon any thing more proper for this
purpose; though even in this they have somehow or
other failed, the names of those who erected them not
being certainly known even in the time of Herodotus. -
It is certain, however, that neither the ancient Assy-Ignorant
rians nor Babylonians kneAV the method of construct-the use t
ing arches. The roofs of all their halls Avere flat, andarclies’
covered with prodigiously large stones, some of them
so big as to cover a whole room singly. Their manner
of building Avas also quite destitute of Avhat is now
called taste; the columns were ill proportioned, and
their capitals executed in the poorest manner imagin¬
able. This was observed by the Greeks, Avho im¬
proved upon the proportions formerly used, and Avere
the inventors of three of the five orders of architecture, j
viz. the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian. “ Anciently amj 0fJ
(says Vitruvius) they were ignorant of the art of pro-poriionin*
portioning the various parts of a building: they used columns*
columns; but they cut them at hazard, without rules,
without
iistory
9
igin of
• Doric
ler.
A R C H I T
without principles, and without having any attention
to the proportions which they ought to give them :
they placed them likewise without any regard to the
other parts of the edifice. Dorus, son of Helen and
grandson of Deucalion, having caused a temple to be
built at Argos in honour of Juno, that edifice was
found by chance to be constructed according to the
taste and proportions of the order which afterwards
they called Doric. The form of this building having
appeared agreeable, they conformed to it in the con¬
struction of edifices which they afterwards had to
build.
“ About the same time, the Athenians sent into A-
sia a colony unde* the conduct of Ion, nephew of Do¬
lus : this undertaking had very good success. Ion
seized on Caria, and there founded many cities. These
new inhabitants thought to build temples. They pro¬
posed for a model that of Juno at Argos : but, igno¬
rant of the proportion which they ought to give to the
columns, and in general to the whole edifice, they
sought for rules capable of regulating their operation.
These people wanted, in making their columns suffi¬
ciently strong to support the whole edifice, to render
them at the same time agreeable to the sight. For this
purpose, they thought to have given it the same propor¬
tion that they found between the foot of a man and the
rest of his body. According to their ideas, the foot
made a sixth part of the human height: in consequence,
they gave at first to a Doric column, taking in its cha¬
piter, six of its diameters j that is to say, they made it
six times as high as it was thick: afterwards they ad¬
ded to it a seventh diameter.
“ Jhis new order of architecture was not long in
giving birth to a second : they would immediately go
beyond the first invention. The lonians tried to
throw still more delicacy and elegance into their edifi¬
ces. They employed the same method which they had
before put in practice for the composition of the Doric
order : but instead of taking for a model the body of a
man, the lonians were regulated by that of a woman.
With a view to make the columns of this new order
more agreeable and more pleasing, they gave them
eight times as much height as they had diameter.
They also made channellings all along the trunk, to imi¬
tate the folds of the robes of women : the volutes of
the chapiter represented that part of the hair which
hung in curls on each side of the face. The lonians
added, lastly, to these columns a base, which was not
in use in the Doric order.” According to Vitruvius,
these bases were made in the manner of twisted cords,
as a kind of case for the columns. This order of ar¬
chitecture was called Ionic, from the name of the people
who had invented it.
Such is the account given by Vitruvius of the origin
of improvements in the proportion of columns. Had
these improvements, however, existed in such early
times, Homer, who was greatly posterior to them, would
certainly have made mention of something of that kind j
but in all his writings he gives us no account of any
jj thing like a column of stone, but uses a word which
Utsofim-would rather incline us to think that his columns were
vement nothing more than bare posts.
enfrom ^ *S remar^a^*e> ^iat improvements in architecture
omor ^ not ta^e P^ace any nation till after, or about, the
iple. time that Jerusalem was taken by Nebuchadnezzar.
E C T U It E.
555
10
the lo-
The grandest buildings erected among the Assyrians
seem to have owed their existence to this monarch $ and
it can scarce be imagined that he would not endeavour
to imitate the architecture of Solomon’s temple, to
which, by his conquest of Jerusalem, he had full access.
It is also remarkable, that the dimensions of the two
pillars, Jachin and Boaz, set up by Solomon, very nearly
correspond with those of the Doric order, first invented
by the Greeks, and which originally came from their
colonies settled in Asia Minor. The height of Solo¬
mon’s pillars, without the chapiter, was 18 cubits }
that of the chapiter itself was five cubits ; the circum¬
ference was 12 cubits j from whence, according to the
Scripture language, we may reckon the diameter to
have been exactly four cubits. Had they been a single
cubit higher, they would have been precisely of the
same height with columns of the original Doric order.
We do not indeed mean to assert, that this famous tem¬
ple gave a model of architecture to the whole world j
although it is scarce conceivable but imitations of it, as
far as it could he known, must have taken place among
many nations. I2
Notwithstanding all their defects, how'ever, the E-Egyptian
gyptian buildings undoubtedly had an air of vast gran- banqueting
deur and magnificence, if we may credit the description ™"-^'
given of one of their banqueting rooms by Vitruvius.SCU e<'
The usal size of one of these rooms was from ioo to
150 feet in length, and its breadth somewhat more
than half its length. At the upper end, and along the
two sides, they placed rows of pillars tolerably well
proportioned to one another, though not of any regu¬
lar order j and at the lower part they made a magnifi¬
cent and spacious entrance : this, with its ornaments
seems to have taken up one end of the building entire.
We are not told that there were any pillars there ;
though perhaps they placed two or more toward the
angles on each side, for uniformity, the central space
being enough for an entrance in the grandest and most
august manner. Those rows of columns were set at a
distance from the wall, forming a noble portico along
the two sides and upper end of the building. Upon the
pillars was laid an architrave ; and from this was carried
up a continued wall with three quarter columns, an¬
swering directly to those below, and in proportion one-
fourth smaller in all their parts. Between these three
quarter columns were placed the windows for enlighten¬
ing the building. From the tops of the lower pillars to
the wall was laid a floor 5 this covered the portico over¬
head within, and made on the outside a platform, which
was surrounded by a corridor with rails and ballusters.
This was terraced, and served as a plain for people to
walk on j and from this they could look thx-ough the
windows down into the room. To this terrace there
was no covering required, as the Egyptians were in no
fear of rain. The Egyptians decorated this sort of
building with statues j and no kind of ornament could
answer it so well, as the light cannot fall upon statues
to such advantage in any direction, as when it comes
from above, in such a regular, proportioned, and unin¬
terrupted manner. 13
We have already taken notice, that among the an- Ancient ar¬
dent Egyptians, Persians, and Babylonians, the vast c!lltc?tur.e
strength and extent of their buildings seems to have ^randenr to
been what they chiefly valued j and in this they cer-the modem,
tainly as much excelled the Greeks and modern nations,
4 A 2 MS
55<5
?4
Architec¬
ture impro-
ved by the
Greeks.
A R C H I T
as the latter excel them in the beautiful proportion
and elegance of their structures. There are not want¬
ing, however, some modern authors, who endeavour to
deprive the ancients of what is justly their due, and
will have every thing to be exaggerated which seems
beyond the power of modern princes to accomplish. In
this way M. Goguet remarkably distinguishes himself;
and that without giving any reason at all, but merely
that be takes it into his head. Speaking of the won¬
ders of ancient Babylon, “ All these works (says he),
so marvellous in the judgment of antiquity, appear to
me to have been extremely exaggerated by the authors
who have spoken of them. How can we conceive, in
effect, that the walls of Babylon could have been 318
feet high, and 81 in thickness, in a compass of near
ten leagues ?” To this we may easily reply, that the
pyramids of Egypt, and the immense wall which di¬
vides China from Tartary, show us, that even such a
work as the wall of ancient Babylon As said to have
been is not altogether incredible. The lowest com¬
putation of the dimensions of the Chinese wall is, that
it extends in length 1200 miles, is 18 feet high at a
medium and as many thick 5 according to which com¬
putation, it must contain 9,504,000 solid fathoms ;
and yet, if we may credit the Chinese historians, this
immense mass of building was finished in live years. If
therefore we can suppose Nebuchadnezzar, or whoever
fortified the city of Babylon, to have been capable of
employing as many men for ten years as were employ¬
ed in raising the Chinese wall, we may suppose him
able to have fortified the city of Babylon as strongly as
it is said to have been j for the mass of building is not
quite double that of the Chinese wall, though nearly
so, amounting to 18,189,600 solid fathoms. When
our author afterwards gasconades about the works of
the French king, it is difficult to avoid laughter at
hearing him declare, that “ infinitely more money has
been expended, and much more genius required, as
well as more power, taste, and time, to finish Versailles,
with all its defects, than to construct a pyramid, or
erect an obelisk.'” The genius, taste, and time, we
shall not dispute ; but as the same author confesses that
100,000 men were employed for 30 years together in
the construction of the largest pyramid, we think the
power may justly be doubted. This doubt wull appear
still the more reasonable, when we consider what time
the above-mentioned number of men would have taken
to accomplish some of the works of which M. Goguet
boasts so much. I he canal of Eanguedoc, he tells us,
extends in length upwards of 70 leagues, and required
the removal of two millions of cubic fathoms of earth.
This was no doubt a great work; but had 100,000
men been employed upon it at once, they must have
removed this quantity of earth in three weeks, suppos¬
ing each to have removed only a single fathom a-day.
Nor can we imagine, that any modern work will at
all stand in competition with the works of the ancients
as to greatness, whatever they may do in other re¬
spects.
As to the improvements in architecture, the Greeks
were undoubtedly the first European nation who began
to distinguish themselves in this way. Whence they
took the first hint of improvement, we have no means
of knowing ; though, as we have already hinted, it is
scarce credible but that Solomon’s temple must have
2
E C T U R E. Histor
somewhat contributed thereto ; especially as we learn
from Scripture, that the capitals of the columns there
were ornamented in the richest manner. The origin of
the Doric and Ionic orders we have already given an
account of from Vitruvius; to which we may add, that
the volutes, which are the peculiar ornament of the Io¬
nic capital, are by some said to represent the natural
curling down of a piece of bark from the top of a
beam, which is supposed to have been the first kind of
column. The Corinthian order was not invented till origin of|
long after the others, and is said to have taken its rise the Coriil
from the following accident : A basket had been set^dan ordl
upon the ground, and covered with a square tile ; there
grew near it a plant of acanthus or bear’s breech ; the
leaves shot up and covered the outer surface of the
basket ; and, as the stalks rose up among them, they
soon reached the tile which overhung the edges of the
basket at the top ; this stopping their course upwards,
they curled and twisted themselves into a kind of vo¬
lutes. In this situation a sculptor, Callimachus, saw it;
the twisted part of the stalk represented to him the vo¬
lutes of the Ionic capital, which, as they were here
smaller, and more numerous, appeared in a new form :
he saw the beauty of raising them among leaves, and
was struck with the representation of a noble and lofty
capital ; which being afterwards put into execution, has
been universally admired. 1(j I
In their private houses the Greeks had greater eonve- Private
niences, but much less magnificence, than the Romans, houses ofl
as the former reserved the use of their grandest archi-Greell
lecture for their temples and public buildings. The en¬
trance to their private houses, however large they were,
was always small, narrow and plain. The whole edi¬
fice usually consisted of twro courts, and several ranges
of huildings. The porter’s lodge, if such a phrase may
be allowed, was usually on the right hand of this nar¬
row entrance, and opposite to this were the stables.
From this entrance one came into the first or smaller
court. This had piazzas on three sides ; and on the
fourth, which was usually the south side, there were
hutments of pilasters, which supported the more inward
parts of the ceiling. A space being thus left between
the one and the other, they had places for the lodgings
of men and maid servants, and such as had the princi¬
pal care of the house. Upon the same floor with these
hutments they had several regular apartments, consist¬
ing of an antichamber, a chamber, and closets ; and
about the piazzas, rooms for eating and other common
purposes. Opposite to the entrance was a lobby, or
vestibule, through which lay the passage into the seve-
veral rooms ; and through this, in front, one entered a
large passage, which led into the larger or principal
square. Round this they had four piazzas, which, in
the common way of building, were all of one height ;
but in more magnificent houses, they made that which
faced the great entrance loftier, and every way nobler,
than the other three. A nobleman of Rhodes added
this to the common method of building ; and it was
thence called the 'Rhodian manner. In this more noble
part of the building were the apartments of the family.
These w'ere adorned with lofty galleries, and here were
the best rooms: they were called the men1 s apartments;
for, in rude times, the Greeks lodged their wives and
female relations in the best rooms of the first court,
where they had also their separate and detached place.
The
557
[istory.
ARCHITECT U HE.
*7
the R.0
us.
18
:cline of
art
ong the
mans.
1 thie
> uner
iliilljr
of
Tiie two sides of this larger court were kept for the re¬
ception of visitors ; and servants were appointed to wait
upon them. The master of the house entertained his
guests the first day in his own apartments ; but after
this, how long soever they staid, they lived without re¬
straint in one of those separate piazzas, and joined the
family only when they chose it. Thus was the upper
end and two sides of the great court disposed of j and
its lower end, being the same range of building that
was the upper end of the first court, held the lady of
the house and her female friends.
The Romans borrowed their architecture from the
Greeks, but did not imitate them in the modesty of
their private dwellings. They placed the principal
front of their house towards the south, and on this they
bestowed all the decoration of expensive ornament. They
had here lofty galleries and spacious rooms, and every
thing carried an air of greatness and show. In their
country housesf they preserved the same situation and
the same front, but the inner distribution was different.
At the entrance they placed the meaner and more of¬
fensive offices, after the manner of the Greeks. The
first gallery, which received the stranger at his entrance,
had on one side a passage to the kitchen, and on the
other to the stalls where they kept cattle, that their
noise or smell might not be offensive within, while yet
they were in readiness for all services. These stalls were
placed to the left, as in the Greek houses 5 on the
right was the kitchen, which had its light from above,
and its chimney in the middle. Farther within the
building were placed on one side bathing rooms, and
on the other family conveniences, in the manner of our
butteries and store rooms ; the bathing rooms were on
the left, and the others on the right. Backwards, and
full to the north, they placed their cellars, for fear of
the sun, and over these were other store rooms. From
this part of the structure one came into the court : for
in these there generally was only one court: this was
taken up by servants, and those who had the care of
the cattle j and on each side there were stalls for the
cattle. In front from the entrance, but very far from
all these annoyances, stood the nobler apartments for
the master of the family.
How magnificent the Romans were in their temples
and public buildings, is yet to be seen in what remains
of them, and which are not only models for all modern!
architects, but have never been surpassed or even equal¬
led to this day. But though the art of architecture
continued almost at its highest pitch among the Ro¬
mans for two centuries, it declined exceedingly as the
empire began to fail. Tacitus relates, that after the
battle of Actium no men of genius appeared 5 and af¬
ter the feign of Alexander Severus, a manner of build¬
ing altogether confused and irregular was introduced,
wherein nothing of the true graces and majesty of the
former was preserved. When the empire was entire¬
ly overrun by the Goths, the conquerors naturally
introduced their own method of building. Like the
ancient Egyptians, the Goths seem to have been
more studious to amaze people With the greatness of
their buildings, than to please the eye with the re¬
gularity of their structure, or the propriety of their
ornaments. They corrected themselves, however, a
little by the models of the Roman edifices which they
saw before them : but these models themselves were
faulty ; and the Goths being totally destitute of genius,,
neither architecture nor any other art could be impro¬
ved by them.
Most writers who mention the ancient buildings in
this island, particularly the religious ones, notwith¬
standing the striking difference in the styles of their
construction, class them all under the common denomi¬
nation of Gothic; a general appellation by them applied
to buildings not exactly conformable to some one of the
five orders of architecture. Our modern antiquaries,
more accurately, divide them into Saxon, Norman, and
Saracenic, or that species vulgarly, though improperly,
called moder7i Gothic.
It has been maintained by some, that the Saxon
churches, after they began to be built with stone, con-on and Nor-
sisted only of upright walls, without pillars or arches, man styles,
the construction of which, it is alleged, they were en¬
tirely ignorant of. But this opinion is not only con¬
tradicted by the testimony of several cotemporax-y or
very ancient writers, who expressly mention them both,
but also by the remains of some edifices universally al¬
lowed to be of Saxon workmanship, one of them the
ancient conventual church of Ely. Indeed, it is high¬
ly improbable that the Saxons could be ignorant of so
useful a contrivance as the arch. Many of them, built
by the Romans, they must have had before their eyes j
some of which have reached our days : two particular¬
ly are now remaining in Canterbury only ; one in the
castle yard, the other at Riding gate. And it is not
to be believed, that once knowing them and their con¬
venience, they would neglect to make use of them j
or having used, would relinquish them. Besides, as
it appears from undoubted authorities they procured
workmen from the continent to construct their capital
buildings “ according to the Roman manner,” this
alone would be sufficient to confute that ill-grounded
opinion ; and at the same time pi'oves, that what we
commonly call Saxon, is in reality Roman architec¬
ture.
This was the style of building practised all over Eu¬
rope } and it continued to be used by the Normans,
after their arrival here, till the introduction of what is
called the modern Gothic, which was not till about the
end of the reign of Henry II. so that there seems to
be little or no grounds for a distinction between the
Saxon and Norman architecture. Indeed it is said,
the buildings of the latter were of lai'ger dimensions
both in height and area ; and they were constructed
with a stone brought from Caen in Normandy, of
which their workmen were peculiarly fond : but this
was simply an alteration in the scale and materials,
and not in the manner of the building. The ancient
parts of most of our cathedrals are of this early Nor¬
man work.—The chaxacteristic marks of this style are
these : the walls are vexy thick, generally without
buttresses; the arches, both within and without, as
well as those over the doors and window's, semieixeu-
lar, and supported by very solid, or rather clumsy, co¬
lumns, with a kind of regular base and capital : in
short, plainness and solidity constitute the striking fea¬
tures of this method of building. Nevertheless, the
architects of those days sometimes deviated from this
rule ; their capitals were adorned with carvings ot fo¬
liage, and even animals ; and their massive columns
decorated with small half columns united to them, and
their r
558 A R C H I T
tlieir surfaces ornamented with spirals, squares, lozenge
net-work, and other figures, either engraven or in re¬
lievo. Various instances of these may be seen in the
cathedral of Canterbury, particularly the under croft,
the monastery at Lindisfarn or Holy island, the cathe¬
dral at Durham, and the ruined choir at Orford in
Suffolk. The columns I, I, I, i, (Plate XXXVIII.),
are at the monastery of Lindisfarn or Holy island.
Those 2, 2, 2, belong to the ruined chancel at Or¬
ford in Suffolk. N° 3 is at Christ church, Canterbu¬
ry. N° 4, a column with two remarkable projections
like claws, in the south aisle of Romney church, Hamp-
2i shire.
dern Go°* wiiat country or people the modern Gothic, or
thicTor Sa- ^,e style building with pointed arches so called,
racenic owes its origin, seems by no means satisfactorily deter-
style. mined. Some have imagined it may possibly have ta¬
ken its rise from those arches we see in the early Nor¬
man or Saxon buildings or walls, where the wide se¬
micircular arches cross and intersect each other, and
form at their intersection a narrow and sharp-pointed
arch : But it is more generally conjectured to be of
Arabian extraction, and to have been introduced into
Europe by some persons returning from the Crusades
in the Holy Land. Sir Christopher Wren was of that
opinion, and it has been subscribed to by most writers
who have treated on this subject.
“ Modern Gothic, as it is called (says Rious), is
distinguished by the lightness of its work, by the ex¬
cessive boldness of its elevations and of its sections ;
by the delicacy, profusion, and extravagant fancy of
its ornaments. 'I he pillars of this kind are as slender
as those of the ancient Gothic are massive ; such pro¬
ductions, so airy, cannot admit the heavy Goths for
their author. How can be attributed to them a style
of architecture, which was only introduced in the tenth
century of our era, several years after the destruction
of ail those kingdoms which the Goths had raised
upon the ruins of the Roman empire, and at a time
when the very name of Goth was entirely forgotten ?
I' rom all the marks of the new architecture, it can on¬
ly be attributed to the Moors $ or, what is tire same
thing, to the Arabians or Saracens, who have expres¬
sed, in their architecture, the same taste as in their
poetry j both the one and the other falsely delicate,
crowded with superfluous ornaments, and often very
unnatural : the imagination is highly worked up in
both ; but it is an extravagant imagination $ and this
has rendered the edifices of the Arabians (we may in¬
clude the other orientals) as extraordinary as their
thoughts. If any one doubts of this assertion, let us
appeal to any one who has seen the mosques and pa¬
laces of Fez, or some of the cathedrals in Spain built
by the Moors •, one model of this sort is the church at
Burgos 5 and even in this island there are not wanting
several examples of the same. Such buildings have been
vulgarly called modern Gothic, but their true appel¬
lation is Arabic, Saracenic, or Moresque.—This man¬
ner was introduced into Europe through Spain. Learn¬
ing flourished among the Arabians all the time that
their dominion was in full power; they studied philo¬
sophy, mathematics, physic, and poetry. The love of
learning was at once excited ; in all places that wTere
not at too great a distance from Spain, these authors
v^ere read : and such of the Greek authors as they had
E C T U R E. Historj
translated into Arabic, were from thence turned into
Latin. The physic and philosophy of the Arabians
spread themselves in Europe, and with these their ar¬
chitecture : many churches were built after the Sara¬
cenic mode ; and others with a mixture of heavy and
light proportions : the alteration that the difference of
the climate might require, was little, if at all consi¬
dered. In most southern parts of Europe, and in A-
frica, the windows (before the use of glass), made
with narrow apertures, and placed very high in the
walls of the building, occasioned a shade and dark¬
ness within side, and were well contrived to guard
against the fierce rays of the sun ; yet were ill suited
to latitudes where that glorious luminary sheds its
feebler influence, and is rarely seen but through a wa¬
tery cloud.”
Mr Grose, however, thinks the above opinion is not
sufficiently favoured by the observations of several learn¬
ed travellers who have accurately surveyed the ancient
mode of building in those parts of the world. Thus
Cornelius le Brim, an indefatigable and inquisitive tra¬
veller, has published many views of eastern buildings,
particularly about the Holy Land : in all these, only
one Gothic ruin, the church near Acre, and a few
pointed arches, occur; and those built by the Chri¬
stians when in possession of the country. Near Ispa¬
han, in Persia, he gives several buildings with pointed
arches : but these are bridges and caravanseras, whose
age cannot be ascertained ; consequently are as likely
to have been built after, as before the introduction of
this style into Europe. At Ispahan itself, the mey
doen, or grand marketplace, is surrounded by divers
magnificent Gothic buildings ; particularly the royal
mosque, and the Talael Ali-kapie, or theatre. The
magnificent bridge of Alla-werdie-chan, over the river
Zenderoet, 540 paces long and 17 broad, having 33
pointed arches, is also a Gothic structure ; but no
mention is made when or by whom these were built.
The Chiaer Baeg, a royal garden, is decorated with
Gothic buildings; but these were, it is said, built only
in the reign of Schah Abbas, who died anno 1629.
One building indeed, Mr Grose admits, seems at first
as if it would corroborate this assertion, and that the
time when it was erected might be in some degree fix¬
ed ; it is the tomb of Abdallah, one of the apostles of
Mahomet, probably him surnamed Abu Beer. “ If this
tomb (says he) is supposed to have been built soon af¬
ter his death, estimating that even to have happened
according to the common course of nature, it Avill
place its erection about the middle of the seventh cen¬
tury : but this is by far too conjectural to be much
depended on. It also seems as if this was not the com¬
mon style of building at that time, from the temple of
Mecca ; where, if any credit is to be given to the
print of it in Sale’s Koran, the arches are semicircu¬
lar. The tomb here mentioned has one evidence to
prove its antiquity; that of being damaged by the in¬
juries of time and weather. Its general appearance
much resembles the east end of the chapel belonging
to Ely House, London, except that which is filled up
there by the great window, in the tomb is an open
pointed arch, where also the columns or pinnacles on
each side are higher in proportion.
As to the supposition that this kind of architecture
was brought into Spain by the Moors (who possessed
themselves
559
istory. A R C H I T
themselves of a great part of that country in the begin¬
ning of the eighth century, which they held till the
latter end of the fifteenth), and that from thence, by
way of France, it was introduced into Britain ; this
at first seems plausible 3 though, according to Mr
Grose, the only instance which seems to corroborate
this hypothesis, or at least the only one proved by au¬
thentic drawings, is the mosque at Cordova in Spain ;
where, if we may judge from the views published by
Mr Swinburne, although most of the arches are circu¬
lar or horse-shoe fashion, there are some pointed arches
formed by the intersection of two segments of a circle.
This mosque was, as it is there said, begun by Ab-
doulrahman I. who laid the foundation two years be¬
fore his death, and was finished by his son Hissem or
Iscan about the year 800. If these arches were part
of the original structure, it would be much in favour
of the supposition ; but as it is also said that edifice has
been more than once altered and enlarged by the Ma¬
hometans, before any well-grounded conclusion can be
drawn, it is necessary to ascertain the date of the pre¬
sent building.
There are also several pointed arches in the Moorish
palace at Granada, called the Alhambra; but as that
was not built till the year 1273, *ong a^ter intro¬
duction of pointed arches into Europe, they are as
likely to be borrowed by the Moors from the Chri¬
stians, as by the Christians from the Moors. The
greatest peculiarity in the Moorish architecture is the
horse-shoe arch, which containing more than a semi¬
circle, contracts towards its base, by which it is ren¬
dered unfit to bear any considerable weight, being
solely calculated for ornament. In Romsey church,
Hampshire, there are several arches of this form.
In the drawings of the Moorish buildings given in Les
Dehces dePEspagne, said to be faithful representations,
there are no traces of the style called Gothic architec¬
ture: there, as well as in the Moorish castle at Gibral¬
tar, the arches are all represented circular. Perhaps a
more general knolwedge of these buildings would throw
some light on the subject 3 possibly the Moors may,
like us, at different periods, have used different manners
of building.
The marks which constitute the character of Go¬
thic or Saracenical architecture, are its numerous and
prominent buttresses, its lofty spires and pinnacles, its
large and ramified windows, its ornamental niches or
canopies, its sculptured saints, the delicate lace work
of its fretted roofs, and the profusion of ornaments la¬
vished indiscriminately over the whole building: but
its peculiar distinguishing characteristics are, the small
clustered pillars and pointed arches formed by the seg¬
ments of two intersecting circles3 which arches, though
last brought into use, are evidently of more simple and
obvious construction than the semicircular ones 3 two
flat stones, with their tops inclined to each other, and
touching, form its rudiments 3 a number of boughs
stuck into the ground opposite each other, and tied to¬
gether at the top, in order to form a bower, exactly
describe it: whereas a semicircular arch appeal’s the
result of deeper contrivance, as consisting of more parts 3
and it seems less probable chance, from whence all these
inventions were first derived, should throw several wedge¬
like stones between twm set perpendicular, so as exactly
to fit and fill up the interval.
E C U T R E.
Bishop Warhurtoo, in his notes on Pope’s Epistles,
in the octavo edition, has the following ingenious ob¬
servations on this subject:—“ Our Gothic ancestors
had juster and manlier notions of magnificence, on
Greek and Roman ideas, than these mimics of taste
who profess to study only classic elegance 3 and be¬
cause the thing does honour to the genius of those bar¬
barians, I shall endeavour to explain it. All our an¬
cient churches are called without distinction Gothic,
but erroneously. They are of two sorts 3 the one built
in the Saxon times, the other in the Norman. Seve¬
ral cathedral and collegiate churches of the first sort
are yet remaining, either in whole or in part; of which
this was the original : When the Saxon kings became
Christians, their piety (wdiich was the piety of the
times), consisted chiefly in building churches at home,
and performing pilgrimages abroad, especially to the
Holy Land : and these spiritual exercises assisted and
supported one another; for the most venerable as well
as most elegant models of religious edifices were then
in Palestine. From these the Saxon builders took the
whole of their ideas, as may be seen by comparing the
drawings which travellers have given us of the churches
yet standing in that country, with the Saxon remains
of what w’e find at home 3 and particularly in the
sameness of style in the latter religious edifices of the
knights templars (professedly built upon the model
of the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem),
with the earlier remains of our Saxon edifices. Now
the architecture of the Holy Land was Grecian, but
greatly fallen from its ancient elegance. Our Saxon
performance was indeed a bad copy of it, and as much
inferior to the works of St Helena and Justinian, as
theirs were to the Grecian models they had followed 3
yet still the footsteps of ancient art appeared in the cir¬
cular arches, the entire columns, the division of the en¬
tablature into a sort of architrave, frize, and cornice,
and a solidity equally diffused over the whole mass.
This, by way of distinction, I would call the Saxon
architecture. But our Norman works had a very dif¬
ferent original. When the Goths had conquered
Spain, and the genial warmth of the climate and the
religion of the old inhabitants had ripened their wits
and inflamed their mistaken piety, both kept in exer¬
cise by the neighbourhood of the Saracens, through
emulation of their service, and aversion to their super¬
stition, they struck out a new species of architecture,
unknown to Greece and Rome, upon original princi¬
ples, and ideas much nobler than what had given birth
even to classical magnificence. For this northern peo¬
ple having been accustomed, during the gloom of Pa¬
ganism, to worship the deity in groves (a practice
common to all nations) 3 when their new religion re¬
quired covered edifices, they ingeniously projected to
make them resemble groves, as nearly as the distance
of architecture would permit; at once indulging their
old prejudices, and providing for their present conve¬
niences, by a cool receptacle in a sultry climate : and
with what skill and success they executed the project
by the assistance of Saracen architects, whose exotic
style of building very luckily suited their purpose, ap¬
pears from hence, that no attentive observer ever view¬
ed a regular avenue of well-grown trees intermixing
their branches overhead, but it preseniy put him in
mind of the long visto through the Gothic cathedral 3
or- --
560 A R C H T T
nr ever entered one of tlje larger and more elegant
edifices of this kind, but it presented to his imagina¬
tion an avenue of trees j and this alone is what can be
truly called the Gothic style of building. Under this
idea of so extraordinary a species of architecture, all
the irregular transgressions against art, all the mon¬
strous offences against nature, disappearj everything
lias its reason, every thing is in order, and an harmo¬
nious whole arises from the studious application of
means proper and proportionate to the end. For could
the arches be otherwise than pointed, when the work¬
men were to imitate that curve which brandies of two
opposite trees make by their insertion with one ano¬
ther ? or could the columns he otherwise than split in¬
to distinct shafts, w*hen they were to represent the stems
of a clump of trees growing close together ? On the
same principles they formed the spreading ramification
of the stone work in the windows, and the stained glass
in the interstices ; the one to represent the branches,
and the other the leaves of an opening grove, and
both concurred to preserve that gloomy light which
inspires religious reverence and dread. Lastly, We
see tfie reason of their studied aversion to apparent so¬
lidity in these stupendous masses, deemed so absurd
by men accustomed to the apparent as well as real
strength of Grecian architecture. Had it been only a
wanton exercise of the artist’s skill, to show he could
give real strength without the appearance of any, we
might indeed admire his superior science, but we must
needs condemn his ill judgment. But when one con¬
siders, that this surprising lightness was necessary to
complete the execution of his idea of a sylvan place of
worship, one cannot sufficiently admire the ingenuity
of the contrivance. This, too, will account for the con¬
trary equalities in what I call the Saxon architecture.
These artists copied, as has been said, from the church¬
es in the Holy Land, which were built on the models
of the Grecian architecture, but corrupted by prevail¬
ing barbarism ; and still farther depraved by a religious
idea. The first places of Christian worship were se¬
pulchres and subterraneous caverns, low and heavy
from necessity. When Christianity became the reli¬
gion of the state, and sumptuous temples began to be
erected, they yet, in regard to the first pious ages,
preserved the massive style, made still more venerable
by the church of the Holy Sepulchre ; where this
style was, on a double account, followed and aggra¬
vated.”
Ancient 1° Britain, before the Roman invasion, the natives
rise and pro-appear to have had no better lodgings than thickets,
gressofar dens, and caves. Some of these caves, which were
ehitecture tj)ejr winter habitations, and places of retreat in time
m Britain. 0f War, were formed and rendered secure and warm by
art, like those of the ancient Germans, which are thus
described by Tacitus: “ They are used to dig deep
caves in the ground, and cover them with earth, where
t they lay up their provisions, and dwell in winter for
the sake of warmth. Into these they retire also from
their enemies, who plunder the open country, but can¬
not discover these subterranean recesses.” Some of
these subterraneous, nr earth houses, as they are called,
are still remaining in the Western isles of Scotland and
in Cornwall. The summer habitations of the most an¬
cient Britons were very slight j and, like those of the
Finnians, consisted only of a few stakes driven into the
E C T U E E. Histor
ground, interwoven with wattles, and covered over with
the boughs of trees.”
When Julius Cresar invaded Britain, the inhabitants
of Cantium (Kent), and of some other parts in the
south, had learned to build houses a little more substan¬
tial and convenient. “ The country (says Csesar) abounds
in houses, which very much resemble those of Gaul.”
The first step towards this improvement seems to have
been that of daubing the wattled walls of their houses
with clay, to fill up the chinks and make them warmer.
“ The Germans used for this purpose a kind of pure re¬
splendent earth of different colours, which had an ap¬
pearance of painting at a distance j” but the Gauls and
Britons chose rather to whitewash the clay after it was
dry with chalk. Instead of the boughs of trees, they
thatched these houses with straw, as a much better se¬
curity against the weather. They next proceeded to
form the walls of large beams of wood, instead of stakes
and wattles. This seems to have been the mode of
building in Britain, when it was first invaded by the
Romans. “ The Britons (says Diodorus Siculus, who
was cotemporary with Csesar) dwell in wretched cot¬
tages, which are constructed of wood, covered with
straw.” These wooden houses of the ancient Gauls and
Britons were not square but circular, with high taper¬
ing roofs, at the top or centre of which was an aperture
for the admission of light and emission of smoke. Those
of Gaul are thus described by Strabo : “ They build
their houses of wood, in the form of a circle, with lofty
tapering roofs.” The foundations of some of the most
magnificent of these circular houses were of stone, of
which there are some vestiges still remaining in Angle¬
sey and other places. It was probably in imitation of
these wooden houses, that the most ancient stone edi¬
fices, of which there are still some remains in the
Western islands of Scotland, were built circular, and
have a large aperture at the top.
When the Britons were invaded by the Romans,
they had nothing among them answering to our ideas
of a city or town, consisting of a great number of con¬
tiguous houses disposed into regular streets, lanes, and
courts. Their dwellings, like those of the ancient
Germans, were scattered about the country, and gene¬
rally situated on the brink of some rivulet for the sake
of water, and on the skirt of some wood or forest for
the conveniency of hunting and pasture for their cat¬
tle. As these inviting circumstances were more con¬
spicuous in some parts of the country than others, the
princes and chiefs made choice of these places for their
residence 5 and a number of their friends and follow¬
ers, for various reasons, built their houses as near to
them as they could with conveniency. This naturally
produced an ancient British town, which is described
by Cgesar and Strabo in the following manner: “ From
the Cassi he learnt that the town of Cassivelaun was at
no great distance ; a place defended by woods and
marshes, in which very great numbers of men and cat¬
tle were collected. For what the Britons call a town
is a tract of woody country surrounded by a mound
and ditch, for the security of themselves and their cat¬
tle against the incursions of their enemies.” “ The
forests of the Britons are their cities j for when they
have enclosed a very large circuit with felled trees,
they build within it houses for themselves and hovels
for their cattle. These buildings are very slight, and
not
listory. A R C H I T
not designed for long duration.” The palaces of the
British princes were probably built of the same mate¬
rials, and on the same plan, with the houses of their
subjects, and differed from them only in solidity and
magnitude.
Though the communication between this island and
the continent was more free and open after the first
Roman invasion than it had been before, and some of the
British princes and chieftains even visited Rome, then in
its greatest glory; it doth not appear that the people of
Britain made any considerable improvements in their
manner of building for at least a hundred years after that
invasion. For when the renowned Caractacus was car¬
ried prisoner to Rome, A. 1). 52, and observed the beau-
ty and magnificence of the buildings in that proud me¬
tropolis of the world, he is said to have expressed great
surprise, “ That the Romans, who had such magnificent
palaces of their own, should envy the wretched cabins
of the Britons.”
It must appear very surprising that the ancient Bri¬
tons, when they were so ignorant of architecture, were
capable ol erecting (if indeed it was erected by them)
so stupendous a fabric as that of Stonehenge on Salisbury
plain : A fabric which hath been the admiration of all
succeeding ages, and hath outlasted all the solid and
noble structures which were erected by the Romans in
this island. See the article Stonehenge.
Of another very extraordinary species of building se¬
veral remains are found in the Highlands of Scotland.
They consist of ruins; the walls of which, instead of be¬
ing cemented with lime or some other similar substance,
or of being raised with dry stones as was the method be¬
fore cement came into use, are described as having been
vitrified, or the stones run and compacted together by
the force of fire. Concerning the origin, use, &c. of
these buildings, different opinions have been formed ;
and even the reality of them as works of contrivance has
been called in question : of all which particulars the
reader will find an account under the article Forts,
Vitrified.
But for whatever purposes, or by whatever means,
the above and other similar structures of a peculiar na¬
ture were erected, we have sufficient evidence that the
people of Britain, before they were subdued and in¬
structed by the Romans, had but a rude knowledge of
architecture, and were very meanly lodged. As soon,
however, as the Romans began to form settlements and
plant colonies in this island, a sudden and surprising
change ensued in the state of architecture. For that
wonderful people were as industrious as they were brave,
and made haste to adorn every country that they con¬
quered. The first Roman colony was planted at Came-
lodunum, A. X). 50 ; and when it was destroyed by the
Britons in their great revolt under Boadicea, only eleven
years after, it appears to have been a large and well-
built town, adorned with statues, temples, theatres, and
other public edifices.
The Romans not only built a prodigious number of
solid, convenient, and magnificent structux-es for their
own accommodation, but they exhorted, encouraged,
and instructed the Bxutons to imitate their example.
This was one of the arts which Agricola, the most ex¬
cellent of the Roman governors, employed to civilize
the Britons, and reconcile them to the Roman govern¬
ment. “ The following winter (says Tacitus) was
Vol. II. Part II. f
E C T U R E. 561
spent by Agricola in very salutary measures. That
the Britons who led a roaming and unsettled life, and
were easily instigated to war, might contract a love
of peace and tranquillity, by being accustomed to a
more pleasant way of living, he exhorted and assisted
them to build houses, temples, courts, and market¬
places. By praising the diligent and reproaching the
indolent, he excited so great an emulation among the
Britons, that after they had erected all those necessary
edifi ces in their towns, they proceeded to build others
merely for ornament and pleasure, as porticoes, galle¬
ries, baths, banqueting houses, &c.” From this time,
which was A. H. 80, to the middle of the fourth cen¬
tury, architecture and all the arts immediately connect¬
ed with it greatly flourished in this island ; and the
same taste for erecting solid, convenient, and beautiful
buildings, which had long prevailed in Italy, was in¬
troduced into Britain. Every Roman colony and free
city (of which there was a great number in this coun¬
try) was a little Rome, encompassed with strong walls,
adorned with temples, palaces, courts, halls, basilics,
baths, markets, aqueducts, and many other fine build¬
ings, both for use and ornament. The country every¬
where abounded with well-built villages, towns, forts,
and stations; and the whole was defended by that high
and strong wall, with its many towers and castles,
which reached from the mouth of the river Tyne on
the east to the Solway frith on the west. This spirit
of building, which was introduced and encoui’aged by
the Romans, so much improved the taste and increased
the number of the British builders, that in the third
century this island was famous for the great number
and excellence of its architects and artificers. When
the emperor Constantius, father of Constantine the
Great, rebuilt the city of Autun in Gaul, A. 1). 296,
he was chiefly furnished with workmen from Britain,
“ which (says Eumenius) very much abounded with the
best artificers.”
Not very long after this period, architecture and all
the arts connected with it began to decline very sensi¬
bly in Britain, and in all the provinces of the western
empire. This was partly owing to the building of
Constantinople, which drew many of the most famous
architects and other artificers into the east, and partly
to the irruptions and depredations of the barbarous na¬
tions.
The final departure of the Romans was followed by
the almost total destruction of architectux-e in this island.
For the unhappy and unwarlike people whom they left
behind, having neither skill nor courage to defend the
numerous towns, forts, and cities which they possessed,
they were seized by their ferocious invaders, who first
plundered and then destroyed them. By this means,
the many noble structures, with which Px-ovincial Bri¬
tain had been adorned by the art and industry of the
Romans, were ruined or defaced in a very little time ;
and the unfortunate Britons were quite incapable of re¬
pairing them, or of building others in their room. That
long succession of miseries in which they were involved
by the Scots, Piets, and Saxons, deprived them of the
many useful arts which they had learned from their for¬
mer masters, and lodged them once more in forests, dens,
and caves, like their savage ancestors.
The most wanton and extensive devastations were
those committed by the Anglo-Saxons; among whom
4 B .it
562
ARCHITECTURE. Histon
it seems to have been a maxim to destroy all the towns
and castles which they took from their enemies, instead
of preserving them for their own use.
It cannot be supposed that a people who wantonly
demolished so many beautiful and useful structures had
any taste for the arts by which they had been erected.
The truth is, that the Anglo-Saxons at their arrival in
this island were almost totally ignorant of these arts j
and, like all the other nations in Germany, had been
accustomed to live in wretched hovels, built of wood
or earth, and covered with straw or the branches of
trees : nor did they much improve in the knowledge
of architecture for 200 years after their arrival. Du¬
ring that period, masonry was quite unknown and un¬
practised in this island j and the walls even of cathe¬
dral churches were built of wood. “ There was a time
(says venerable Bede) when there was not a stone
church in all the land ; but the custom was to build
them all of wood. Finan, the second bishop of Lin-
disfarne, or Holy island, built a church in that island,
A. D. 652, for a cathedral, which yet was not of
stone, but of wood, and covered with reeds : and so it
continued till Eadbert, the successor of St Cuthbert,
and seventh bishop of Lindisfarne, took away the reeds,
and covered it all over, both roof and walls, with sheets
of lead.” The first cathedral of York was built of the
same materials; and a church of stone was esteemed a
kind of prodigy in those times that merited a place in
history. “ Paulinus, the first bishop of York, built a
church of stone in the city of Lincoln, whose walls
(says Bede) are still standing, though the roof is fallen
down ; and some healing miracles are wrought in it
every year, for the benefit of those who have the faith
to seek them.”
Th ere does not seem to have been so much as one
J church of stone, nor any artists who could build one,
in all Scotland, at the beginning of the eighth centu¬
ry. For Naita-n king of the Piets, in his famous let¬
ter to Ceolfred abbot of Weremouth, A. D. 710, ear¬
nestly entreats him to send him some masons to build a
church of stone in his kingdom, in imitation of the
Romans ; which he promises to dedicate to the honour
of the apostle Peter, to whom the abbey of Weremouth
was dedicated : and we are told by Bede, who was
then living in that abbey, that the reverend abbot Ceol-
ired granted this pious request, and sent masons accord¬
ing to his desire.
Masonry was restored, and some other arts connect¬
ed with it introduced into England, towards the end
of the seventh century, by two clergymen, who were
great travellers, and had often visited Rome, where
they had acquired some taste for these arts. These
were, the famous Wilfrid bishop of York, and after¬
wards of Hexham, and Benedict Biscop, founder of
the abbey of Weremouth. Wilfrid, who was one of
the most ingenious, active, and magnificent prelates of
the seventh century, was a great builder, and erected
several structures at York, Rippon, and Hexham,
which were the admiration of the age in which he
flourished. The cathedral of Hexham, which was one
of these structures, is thus described by his biographer:
Eddi Vitd “ Having obtained a piece of ground at Hexlmm from
tViifridi, Queen Etheldreda, he there founded a most magnifi-
c*-33* cent church, which he dedicated to the blessed apostle
St Andrew. As the plan ol this sacred structure seems
to have been inspired by the Spirit of God, it would
require a-genius much superior to mine to describe it
properly. How large and strong were the subterra¬
neous buildings, constructed of the finest polished
stones ! How magnificent the superstructure, with its
lofty roof, supported by many pillars, its long and
high walls, its sublime towers, and winding stairs! In
one word, there is no church on this side of the Alps
so great and beautiful.” This admired edifice, of
which some vestiges are still remaining, was built by
masons and other artificers brought from Rome by the
munificence of its generous founder. Benedict Biscop
was the cotemporary and companion of Wilfrid in some
of his journeys, and had the same taste for the arts.
He made no fewer than six journeys to Rome, chiefly
with a view of collecting books, pictures, statues, and
other curiosities, and of persuading artificers of various
kinds to come from Italy and France and settle in
England. Having obtained a grant of a considerable
estate from Egfrid king of Northumberland, near the
mouth of the river Were, he there founded a mona¬
stery, A. D. 674. “ About a year after the founda-BerfcrKwl
tions of this monastery were laid, Benedict crossed the-dWat.
sea into France, where he collected a number of ma¬
sons, and brought them over with him, in order to
build the church of his monastery of stone after the
Roman manner, of which he was a great admirer.
His love to the apostle Peter, to whom he designed to
dedicate his church, made him urge these Workmen to
labour so hard, that mass was celebrated in it about a
year after it was founded. When the work was far ad¬
vanced, he sent agents into France to procure if possible
some glass-makers, a kind of artificers quite unknown
in England, and to bring them over to glaze the win¬
dows of his church and monastery. These agents were
successful, and brought several glass-makers with them;
who not only performed the work required by Bene¬
dict, but instructed the English in the art of making
glass for windows, lamps, drinking vessels, and other
uses.”
But though these arts of building edifices of stone,
with windows of glass and other ornaments, were thus
introduced by these two prelates in the latter part of
the seventh century, they do not seem to have flourish¬
ed much for several centuries. It appears from many
incidental hints in our ancient historians, that stone
buildings were still very rare in the eighth and ninth
ages ; and that when any such buildings were erected,
they were the objects of much admiration. When Al¬
fred the Great, towards the end of the ninth cen¬
tury, formed the design of rebuilding his ruined cities,
churches, and monasteries, and of adorning his domi¬
nions with more magnificent structures, he was obliged
to bring many of his artificers from foreign countries.
“ Of these (as we are told by his friend and compa¬
nion Asserius) he had an almost innumerable multitude
collected from different nations ; many of them the most
excellent in their several arts.”
In the other parts of this island architecture was, as
might naturally be imagined, in a still less flourishing
state. It appears indeed to have been almost entirely lost
among the posterity of the ancient Britons after they
retired to the mountains of Wales. The chief palace
of the kings of Wales, where the nobility and wise men
assembled for making laws, was called the white palace,
because
liitory. ' A R C H I T
because tlie Walls of it were woven with white wands,
which had the bark peeled oflf. By the laws of Wales,
whoever burnt or destroyed the king’s hall or palace
was obliged to pay one pound and eighty pence, be¬
sides one hundred and twenty pence for each of the ad¬
jacent buildings, which were eight in number 5 viz.
the dormitory, the kitchen, the chapel, the granary,
the bakehouse, the storehouse, the stable, and the dog¬
house. From hence it appears, that a royal residence
in Wales, with all its offices, when these laws were
made, was valued at five pounds and eighty pence of the
money of that age, equal in quantity of silver to six¬
teen pounds of our money, and in efficacy to one hun¬
dred and sixty. This is certainly a sufficient proof of
the meanness of those buildings which were only of
wood. Even the castles in Wales, in this period, that
were built for the security of the country, appear to
have been constructed of the same materials 5 for the
laws required the king’s vassals to come to the building
of these castles with no other tools but an axe.
The arts of building do not seem to have been much
better understood by the Scots and Piets than by the
ancient Britons in the former part of this period.
When Finan, the second bishop of Lindisfarne, built a
church of wood in that island, A. D. 652, he is said to
have done it more Scotorum, after the manner of his
countrymen the Scots j and it hath been already ob¬
served, that Naitan king of the Piets was obliged to
bring masons from Northumberland, when he resolved
to build a church of stone in his dominions, A. D. 710.
After this last period, it is probable that the Piets,
and perhaps the Scots, began to learn and practise the
art of masonry, because there are still some stone build¬
ings of a very singular construction, and great antiquity,
to be seen in Scotland. These buildings are all circular j
though of two kinds so different from each other, that
they seem to be the work of different ages and of dif¬
ferent nations. The largest of these structures are in
a very extraordinary taste of architecture; and are thus
or don's l descrffied by a modern antiquary, who viewed them
nerarium Vl1^1 no attention : “ Having arrived at the bar-
-ptentrio- rack of Glenelg, I was conducted to the remains of
lle, those stupendous fabrics, seated about two miles from
l6S- thence, in a valley called Glenbeg, in which four of
them anciently stood. Two of these are now almost
quite demolished, the third is half fallen down, the
fourth is almost entire. The first I met with lies to¬
wards the north side of the valley, and is called Castle
Chalamine, or Malcolm's Castle. It stands upon a con¬
siderable eminence, and affords us a fine prospect of
the island of Skye, and a good part of the sea coast.
The foundation of this only appears ; as also of that
other, on the east end of the valley, called Castle Cha¬
nel. About a quarter of a mile further, upon the
bank of a rivulet which passes through the middle of
the glen, stands the third fabric, called Castle Tellve,
I found it Composed of ‘stones without cement; not
laid in regular courses, after the manner of elegant
buildings, but rudely and without order. Those to¬
ward the base were pretty large, but ascending higher
they were thin and flat, some of them scarce exceeding
the thickness of an ordinary brick. I was surprised to
find no windows on the outside, nor any manner of en¬
trance into the fabric, except a hole towards the west,
at the base, so very low and narrow, that I was forced
E C T U R E.
to creep in upon hands and knees, and found that it
carried me down four or five steps below the surface of
the ground. When I was got within I was environed
betwixt two walls, having a cavity or void space
which led me round the whole building. Opposite to
the little entry, on the outside, was a pretty large
door in the second or inner wall, which led me into
the area or inner court. When I rvas there, I per¬
ceived that one half of the building was fallen down,
and thereby had the opportunity of seeing a complete
section thereof. The two walls join together at the
top, round about, and have formed a large void space
or area in the middle. But to give a more complete
idea of these buildings, I shall describe the fourth
called Castle Troddan, which is by far the most entire
of any in that country, and from whence I had a very
clear notion how these fabrics were originally contrived.
On the outside were no windows, nor were the mate¬
rials of this castle anywise different from those of the
other already described, only the entry on the outside
was somewhat larger ; but this might be occasioned
by the falling of the stones from above. The area of
this makes a complete circle ; and there are four doors
in the inner wall, which face the four cardinal points
of the compass. These doors are each eight feet and
a half high, and five feet wide, and lead from the area
into the cavity between the two walls, which runs
round the whole building. The perpendicular height
of this fabric is exactly 33 feet; the thickness of both
walls, including the cavity between, no more than 12
feet ; and the cavity itself is hardly wide enough for
two men to walk abreast; the external circumference
is 178 feet. The whole height of the fabric is divided
into four parts or stories, separated from each other by
thin floorings of flat stones, which knit the two walls
together, and run quite round the building : and there
have been winding stairs of the same flat stones ascend¬
ing betwixt wall and wall up to the top. rIhe under¬
most partition is somewhat below the surface of the
ground, and is the widest *, the others grow narrower
by degrees till the walls close at the top. Over each
door are nine square windows, in a direct line above
each other, for the admission of light: and between
every row of windows are three others in the uppermost
story, rising above a cornice which projects out from
the inner wall and runs round the fabric.” From this
description of these singular edifices it plainly appears
that they were designed both for lodging and defence ;
and considering the state of the times in which they
were built, they were certainly very well contrived for
answering both these purposes.
The stone edifices of the other kind which were
probably erected in this period, and of which some few
are still to be seen in Scotland, are not so large as the
former, but more artificial. They are slender, lofty,
circular towers, of cut stone, laid in regular rows, be¬
tween 40 and 50 feet in external circumference, and
from 70 to 100 feet high, with one door some feet
from the ground. They are exactly similar to the
round tower of Ardmore, and several others, in Ireland;
and therefore were probably built about the same time,
which was in the tenth century, and for the same pur¬
poses ; which are believed by some to have been for
the confinement of penitents while they were perform¬
ing penance. On this account these towers are always
5 ^ 4 B 2
564
A R C H I T
found in the neighbourhood of churches both in Scot¬
land and Ireland j and are said to have been used in this
manner: “ The penitents were placed in the upper-
p 207. most story of the tower (which commonly consisted of
five or six stories) j where having made probation, or
done penance, such a limited time, according to the
heinousness of their crime, they then were permitted
to descend to the next floor, and so on by degrees,
until they came to the door, which always faced the
entrance of the church, where they stood to receive
absolution from the clergy, and the blessings of the
people. A tedious process, to which few penitents
in the present age would willingly submit. _ Other
writers are of opinion, that the design of these circular
towers (of which one is still remaining at Abernethy
and another at Brechin) was to be places from
whence the people were called to public worship by
the sound of a horn or trumpet, before the introduction
of bells.
This art received very great improvements in the
12th century 5 which indeed may be called the age of
architecture; when the rage for building was more vio¬
lent in England than at any other time. The great
and general improvements that were made in the fa¬
brics of houses and churches in the first years of this
. century, are thus described by a cotemporary writer.
iaLtet “ The n?w cathedrals and innumerable churches that
Eccks. were built in all parts, together with the many mag-
p. 878. nificent cloisters and monasteries, and other apartments
of monks, that were then erected, afford a sufficient
proof of the great felicity of England in the reign of
Henry I. The religious of every order, enjoying
peace and prosperity, displayed the most astonishing
ardour in every thing that might increase the splendour
of divine worship. The fervent zeal of the faithful
prompted them to pull down houses and churches every¬
where, and rebuild them in a better manner. By this
means the ancient edifices that had been raised in the
days of Edgar, Edward, and other Christian kings, were
demolished, and others of greater magnitude and mag¬
nificence, and of more elegant workmanship, were erect¬
ed in their room, to the glory of God.”
As the prodigious power of religious zeal, what¬
ever turn it happens to take, when it is thoroughly
heated, is well known, it may not be improper to give
one example of the arts employed by the clergy and
monks of this period, to inflame the pious ardour of
the kings, nobles, and people, for building and adorn¬
ing churches. When Joffred abbot of Croyland re¬
solved to rebuild the church of his monastery in a most
magnificent manner, A. D. 1106, he obtained from
the archbishops of Canterbury and York, a bull dis¬
pensing with tjie third part of all penances for sin to
those who contributed any thing towards the building
of that church. I his bull was directed not only to
the king and people of England, but to the kings of
France and Scotland, and to all other kings, earls ba¬
tons, archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, rectors, pres¬
byters, and clerks, and to all true believers in Christ,
rich and poor, in all Christian kingdoms. To make the
best use of this bull, he sent two of his most eloquent
monks to proclaim it over all France and Flanders, two
other monks into Scotland, two into Denmark and Nor¬
way, two into Wales, Cornwall, and Ireland, and others
mto different parts of England. “ By this means (says
E C T U R E. Historl
the historian) the wonderful benefits granted to all the
contributors to the building of this church were pu¬
blished to the very ends of the earth j and great heaps
of treasure and masses of yellow metal flowed in from
all countries upon the venerable Abbot Joffred, and
encouraged him to lay the foundations of his church.”
Having spent about four years in collecting mountains
of different kinds of marble from quarries both at
home and abroad, together with great quantities of
lime, iron, brass, and other materials for building, he
fixed a day for the. great ceremony of laying the foun¬
dation, which he contrived to make a very effectual
mean of raising the superstructure ! For on the long-
expected day, the feast of the holy virgins Felicitas
and Perpetua, an immense multitude of earls, barons,
and knights, with their ladies and families, of abbots,
priors, monks, nuns, clerks, and persons of all ranks,
arrived at Croyland, to assist at this ceremony. The
pious Abbot Joffred began by saying certain prayers,
and shedding a flood of tears on the foundation. Then
each of the earls, barons, knights, with their ladies,
sons, and daughters, the abbots, clerks, and others,
laid a stone, and upon it deposited a sum of money, a
grant of lands, tithes, or patronages, or a promise of
stone, lime, wood, labour, or carriages, for building
the church. After this the abbot entertained the
whole company, amounting to JOOO persons, at din¬
ner. To this entertainment they were all entitled ; for
the money, and grants of different kinds, which they
had deposted on the foundation stones, were alone suf¬
ficient to have raised a very noble fabric. By such
arts as these the clergy inspired kings, nobles, and
people of all ranks, with so ardent a spirit for these
pious works, that in the course of this period almost
all the sacred edifices in England were rebuilt, and .
many hundreds of new ones raised from the foundation.
Nor was this spirit confined to England, but prevailed
as much in Scotland in proportion to its extent and
riches. King David I. alone, besides several cathe¬
drals and other churches, built no fewer than thirteen
abbeys and priories, some of which were very magnifi¬
cent structures.
The sacred architecture of the Anglo-Normans in
the beginning of this period did not differ much in its
style and manner from that of the Anglo- Saxons ;
their churches being in general plain, low, strong, and
dark ; the arches both of the doors and windows se¬
micircular, with few or no ornaments. By degrees,
through much practice, our architects, who were all
monks or clergymen, improved their taste and skill,
and ventured to form plans of more noble, light, and
elevated structures, with a great variety of ornaments ;
which led to that bold magnificent style of building,
commonly, though perhaps not very properly, called
tue later Gothic. It is not improbable that our monk¬
ish architects were assisted in attaining this style of
building by models from foreign countries, or by in¬
structions from such of then' own number as bad visit¬
ed Italy, France, Spain, or the East. But the origin
of this style of architecture has been already consi¬
dered, and the characters by which it is distinguished
from the ancient Gothic have also been described :
(See N° 21. super). Its first appearance in England
was towards the latter end of the reign of King Hen¬
ry II. But it was not at once thoroughly adopted ;
some
565
ARCHITECT UR E.
istory.
some short solid columns and semicircular arches being
retained and mixed with the pointed ones ; as for ex¬
ample, in the west end of the Old Temple church ;
and at York, where, under the choir, there remains
much of the ancient work, the arches of which are but
just pointed, and rise on short round pillars. In the
reign of Henry III. however, this manner of build¬
ing seems to have gained a complete footing 5 the cir¬
cular giving place to the pointed arch, and the mas¬
sive column yielding to the slender pillar. Indeed, like
all novelties, when once admitted, the rage of fashion
made it become so prevalent, that many of the ancient
and solid buildings, erected in former ages, were taken
down in order to be re-edified in the new taste, or had
additions patched to them, of this mode of architec¬
ture. The present cathedral church of Salisbury was
begun early in this reign, and finished in the year 1258.
It is entirely in the Saracenic style ; and, according to
Sir Christopher Wren, may be justly accounted one of
the best patterns of architecture of the age in which
it was built. Its excellency is undoubtedly in a great
measure owing to its being constructed on one plan,;
whence arises that symmetry and agreement of parts,
not to be met with in many of our other cathedral
churches; which have mostly been built at different
times, and in a variety of styles. From this time till
the reign of Henry VIII. the fashionable pillars in
churches were of Furbeck marble, very slender and
round, encompassed with marble shafts a little detached,
having each a capital adorned with foliage, which join¬
ing, formed one elegant capital for the whole pillar.
The windows were long and narrow, with pointed
arches and painted glass, which was introduced about
that time, or at least became more common. In this
century also they began to delight in lofty steeples, with
spires and pinnacles. In the fourteenth century, the
pillars consisted of an assemblage of shafts not detached,
but united, forming one solid and elegant column ; the
windows, especially those in the east and west ends, were
greatly enlarged, divided into several lights by stone
muljions running into ramifications above, and forming
numerouscompartmentsin variousfanciful shapes. Those
windows, filled with stained glass of the most lively co¬
lours, representing kings, saints, and martyrs, and their
histories, made a most solemn and glorious appearance.
There were several other variations, especially in the
taste of the carvings and other ornaments, which are
too minute for general history.
As to the state of civil architecture during the same
period : The houses of the common people in the coun¬
try, and of the lower burgesses in towns and cities, were
very little improved in their structure, that most nu¬
merous and useful order of men being much depressed
in the times we are now delineating. Even in the ca¬
pital city of London, all the houses of mechanics and
common burgesses were built of wood, and covered with
straw or reeds, towards the end of the twelfth century.
But the palaces, or rather castles, of the Anglo-Nor¬
man kings, barons, and prelates, were very different
from the residences of persons of the same rank in the
Anglo-Saxon times. For this we have the testimony of
a person of undoubted credit, who was well acquainted
with them both. “ The Anglo-Saxon nobles (says
William of Malmsbury) squandered away their ample
revenues in low and mean houses ; but the French and
Norman barons are very different from them* living at
less expence, but in great and magnificent palaces.’*
The truth is, that the rage of building fortified castles,
was no less violent among the Norman princes, prelates,
and barons, than that of building churches. To this
they were prompted not only by the custom of their
native country, but also by their dangerous situation in
this island. Surrounded by multitudes, whom they
had depressed and plundered, and by whom they were
abhorred, they could not think themselves safe with¬
out the protection of deep ditches and strong walls.
The Conqueror himself was sensible, that the want of
fortified places in England had greatly facilitated his
conquest, and might facilitate his expulsion ; and there¬
fore he made all possible haste to remedy this defect,
by building very magnificent and strong castles in all
the towns within the royal demesnes. “ William (says
Matthew Paris) excelled all his predecessors in building
castles, andgreatlyharassed his subjects and vassals with
these works.” All his earls, barons, and even prelates,
imitated his example ; and it was the first care of every
one who received the grant of an estate from the crown
to build a castle upon it for his defence and residence.
The disputes about the succession in the following
reigns, kept up this spirit for building great and strong
castles. William Rufus was still a greater builder than
his father. “ This William (says Henry Knyghton),
was much addicted to building royal castles and pala¬
ces, as the castles of Hover, Windsor, Norwich, F.xe-
ter, the palace of Westminster, and many others, testi¬
fy ; nor was there any king of England before him
that erected so many and such noble edifices.”
Henry I. was also a great builder both of castles and
monasteries. But this rage for building never prevail¬
ed so much in any period of the English history as in
the turbulent reign of King Stephen, from A. D.
1135 to A. H. 1 154. “ In this reign (as we are told
by the author of the Saxon Chronicle) every one who
was able built a castle ; so that the poor people were
worn out with the toil of these buildings, and the
whole kingdom was covered with castles.” This last
expression will hardlv appear too strong, when we are
informed, that besides all the castles before that time
in England, no fewer than 1115 were raised from the
foundation in the short space of 19 years. See the ar¬
ticle Castle.
The castles, monasteries, and greater churches of
this period, were generally covered with lead, the
windows glazed ; and when the walls were not of ash¬
ler, they were neatly plastered and whitewashed on
both sides. The doors, floors, and roof, were com¬
monly made of oak planks and beams, exactly smooth¬
ed and jointed, and frequently carved. It is hardly
necessary to observe, that the building one of these
great and magnificent castles, monasteries, or churches,
of which there were many in England, must have been
a work of prodigious expence and labour; and that
the architects and artificers, by whom that work was
planned and executed, must have attained considerable
dexterity in their respective arts. Several of these ar¬
chitects have obtained a place in history, and are highly
celebrated for their superior skill. William of Sens,
architect to Archbishop Lanfranc in building his cathe?
dral, is said by Gervase of Canterbury, to have been
a most exquisite artist both in stoue and wood. He
made
566
A R C H I T
made not only a model of the whole cathedral, but of
every particular piece of sculpture and carving, for the
direction of the workmen ; and invented many curious
machines for loading and unloading ships, and convey¬
ing heavy weights by land, because all the stones were
brought from Normandy. Matthew Paris speaks even
in a higher strain of Walter of Coventry, who flourished
towards the end of this period, when he says, that “ so
excellent an architect had never yet appeared, and pro¬
bably never would appear, in the world.” This en¬
comium was undoubtedly too high $ but it is impos¬
sible to view the remains of many magnificent fabrics,
both sacred and civil, that were erected in this period,
without admiring the genius of the architects by whom
they were planned, and the dexterity of the workmen
by whom they were executed.
In the beginning of the reign of Henry VIII. or ra¬
ther towards the latter end of that of Henry VII. when
brick building became common, a new kind of low
pointed arch grew much in use j it was described from
four centres, was very round at the haunches, and the
angle at the top was very obtuse. This sort of arch is
to be found in every one of Cardinal Wolsey’s build¬
ings ; also at West Sheen; an ancient bx-ick gate at
Mile End, called King John's Gate ; and in the great
gate of the palace of Lambeth. From this time Go¬
thic architecture began to decline } and was soon after
supplanted by a mixedAstyle, if one may venture to call
it one ; wherein the Grecian and Gothic, however dis¬
cordant and iri’econcileable, are jumbled together. Con¬
cerning this mode of building, Mr Warton, in his ob¬
servations on Spencer’s Faery Queene, has the follow¬
ing anecdotes and i-emarks:
“ Although the Homan or Grecian architecture did
not begin to prevail in England till the time of Inigo
Jones, yet our communication with the Italians, and our
imitation of their manners, produced some specimens of
that style much earlier. Perhaps the earliest was Somer¬
set House in the Strand, built about the year 1549,
by the duke of Somerset, uncle to Edward VI. The
monument of Bishop Gardiner, in Winchester cathe¬
dral, made in the I’eign of Mary, about 1555, is deco¬
rated with Ionic pillai’s. These vei'ses of Spenser,
   Hid rise
On stately pillars, fram’d after the Doric guise—
E C T U R E. _ _ Histor
bear an allusion to some of the fashionable improvements
in building, which at this time were growing more and
more into esteem. Thus also Bishop Hall, who wrote
about the same time, viz. 1598 :
There findest thou some stately Doric frame,
Or neat lonicke work.——  
But these ornaments were often absurdly introduced
into the old Gothic style : as in the magnificent por¬
tico of the schools at Oxford, erected about the year
1613 5 where the builder, in a Gothic edifice, has af¬
fectedly displayed his universal skill in the modern ar-
chitecture, by giving us all the five orders together.
However, most of the great buildings of Queen Eliza¬
beth’s reign have a style peculiar to themselves both in
form and finishing j where, though much of the old
Gothic is retained, and great part of the new taste is
adopted, yet neither predominates; while both, thus
distinctly blended, compose a fantastic species, hardly
reducible to any class or name. One of its character¬
istics is the affectation of large and lofty windows :
where, says Bacon, “ you shall have sometimes fair
houses so full of glass, that one cannot tell where to
come to be out of the sun.”
To return now to our general history, and to con¬
clude : In the 15th and 16th centuries, when learning
of all kinds began to revive, the chaste architecture of
the Greeks and Homans seemed as it were to be re¬
called into life. The first improvements in it began
in Italy, and owed their existence to the many ruins
of the ancient Roman structures that were to be found
in that country ; from whence an improved method of
building was gradually brought into the other countries
of Europe ; and though the Italians for a long time
retained the superiority as architects over the other
European nations; yet, as men of genius travelled
from all quarters into Italy, where they had an oppor¬
tunity of seeing the originals from whence the Italians
copied, architects have arisen in other nations equal, if
not superior, to any that ever appeared in Italy. Of
this we have a recent instance in our own countrv-
man Mr Mylne, who lately gained the prize in archL
lecture at Rome, where it would no douht be dis¬
puted by such natives of Italy as were best skilled in
that art.
PART I. PRINCIPLES OF ARCHITECTURE.
MANY ages must have elapsed before architecture
came to be considered as a fine art. Utility was its
original destination, and still continues to be its prin¬
cipal end. Experience, however, has taught us, that
architecture is capable of exciting a variety of agreeable
leelings. Of these, utility, grandeur, regularity, order,
*3 and px-oportion ax-e the chief.
Distiuc- Architecture, being an useful as well as a fine art,
baildiL !eads US t0 d.If5tinguish buildings, and parts of buildings’
' mto three kinds, viz. what are intended for use solely,
what for ornament solely, and what for both. Build¬
ings intended for utility solely, ought in every part to
correspond precisely to that intention: the least devia-
3
tion from use, though contributing to ornament, will
be disagreeable ; for every work of use being consider¬
ed as a mean to an end, its perfection as a mean is the
capital circumstance, and every other beauty in oppot
sition is neglected as improper. On the other hand, in
such things as are intended solely for ornament, as co¬
lumns, obelisks, triumphal arches, &c. beauty alone
ought to be regarded. The principal difficulty in ar¬
chitecture lies in combining use and ornament. In or¬
der to accomplish these ends, different and even oppo¬
site means must be employed ; which is the reason why
they are so seldom united in perfection ; and hence, in
buildings of this kind, the only practicable method is,
to
,rt I. A R C H I T
ciples. to pi’efer utility to ornament according to the character
-y——'of the building: in palaces, and such buildings as ad¬
mit of a variety of useful contrivances, regularity ought
to be px-eferred $ but in dwelling houses that are too
small for variety of contrivance, utility ought to pxe-
vail, neglecting regularity as far as it stands in opposi*
tion to convenience.
insic In considering attentively the beauty of visible ob-
rela- jects, we discover two kinds. The hi'st may be termed
intrinsic beauty, because it is discovci-ed in a single ob¬
ject, without relation to any other. The second may be
termed relative beauty, being founded on a combina¬
tion of relative objects. Ai’chitecture admits of both
kinds. We shall first give a few examples of relative
beauty.
The proportions of a door are determined by the use
to which it is destined. The door of a dwelling house,
which ought to correspond to the human size, is confin¬
ed to seven or eight feet in height and three or four
in bx-eadth. The proportions proper for a stable ox-
coachhouse are different. The door of a church ought
to be wide, in order to afford an easy passage for a
multitude; and its height must be regulated by its
wideness, that the proportion may please the eye. The
size of the windows ought always to be proportioned
to that of the room they are destined to illuminate ; for
if the apertures be not lax-ge enough to convey light to
every cox-ner, the room must be unequally lighted,
which is a great deformity. Steps of staix-s should like¬
wise be accommodated to the human figure, without
regarding any other proportion 5 they are accordingly
the same in large and in small buildings, because both
are inhabited by men of the same size.
We shall next consider J/zfr’zVm’c beauty blended with
that which is relative. A cube itself is more agxee-
able than a parallelopipedon ; this constantly holds in
small figux-es : but a large building in the form of a cube
is lumpish and heavy 5 while a parallelopipedon, set on
its smaller base, is more agreeable on account of its
elevation : Hence the beauty of Gothic towers. But if
this figure were to be used in a dwelling house, to make
way for relative beauty, we should immediately per¬
ceive that utility ought chiefly to be regarded; and
this figui-e, inconvenient by its height, ought to be set
on its larger base : the loftiness in this case w-ould be
lost j but that loss will be more than sufficiently com¬
pensated by the additional convenience. Hence the
form of buildings spread more upon the ground than
raised in height, is always preferred for a dwelling
house.
rnal With x-egard to the intexmal divisions, utility re¬
ams ofqU|res tJ,at the rooms be rectangular, to avoid useless
'*■ spaces. An hexagonal figure leaves no void spaces;
but it determines the rooms to be all of one size, which
is both inconvenient and disagreeable for want of va¬
riety. Though a cube be the most agreeable figure,
and may answer for a room of a moderate size: yet, in
a vexy large room, utility requires a different figure.
Unconfined motion is the chief convenience of a great
room ; to obtain this the greatest length that can be
had is necessary. But a square room of large size is
inconvenient. It removes chairs, tables, &c. at too
great a distance from the hand, which, when unem¬
ployed, must be x-anged along the sides of the room.
Utility, therefore, requires a large room to be a paral-
E C T U R E. 567
lelogram. This figure is likewise best calculated for the principler.
admission of light ; because, to avoid cx-oss lights, all the
windows ought to be in one wall ; and if the opposite
wall be at such a distance as not to be fully lighted, the
room must be obscure. The height of a room exceed¬
ing nine or ten feet has little relation to utility 5 there¬
fore proportion is the only rule for determining the height
when above that number of feet. i6
Artists who deal in the beautiful, love to entertain utility and
the eye : palaces and sumptuous buildings, in which in-beauty of-
trinsic beauty may be fully displayed, give them an op-ten uxcom-
pox*tunity of exerting their taste. But such a propen-P**1 e*
sity is peculiarly unhappy with regard to private dwell¬
ing houses j because, in these, relative beauty cannot be
displayed to perfection without hurting intrinsic beau¬
ty. There is no opportunity for great variety of form
in a small house 5 and in edifices of this kind, internal
convenience has not hitherto been happily adjusted to
external regularity. Perhaps an accurate coincidence
in this x-espect is beyond the reach of art. Architects,
however, constantly split upon this rock ; for they ne¬
ver can he persuaded to give over attempting to recon- '
cile these two incompatibles : how otherwise should it
happen, that of the endless variety of private dxvelling
houses, there should not be one found that is generally
agreed upon as a good pattern ? the unweai’icd propen¬
sity to make a house x-egular as well as convenient ob¬
liges the architect, in some articles, to sacrifice con¬
venience to regularity, and, in others regularity to
convenience ; and accordingly the house, which turns
out neither regular nor coxivenient, never fails to dis¬
please.
Nothing can be more evident, than that the form of
a dwelling house ought to be suited to the climate; yet
no error is more common than to copy in Britain the
form of Italian houses, not forgetting even those parts
that axe purposely contrived for collecting air, and fox-
excluding the sun 5 witness our colonnades and logics,
designed by the Italians to gather cool air, and exclude
the beams of the sun, conveniences which the climate
of this country does not require. ^
We shall next view architecture as one of the fine Architec-
arts ; which will lead us to the examination of such tnre eonsi-
buildings, and parts of building-, as ax-e calculated sole-||*rc^ a
ly to please the eye. Variety prevails in the works of
nature ; hut art requires to be guided by rule and com¬
pass. Hence it is, that in such works of art as imitate
nature, the gx-eat art is, to hide every appearance of art;
which is done by avoiding regularity and indulging
variety. But in works of art that axe original and not
imitative, such as architecture, strict regularity and
uniformity ought to be studied, so lar as consistent with
utility. js
Proportion is not less agreeable than regularity and Diffexence
uniformity j and therefore, in buildings intended tobetwee11
please the eye, they are all equally essential. It is taken
for granted by many writers, that in all the Parts an(j qUar.-
of a building there are cex-tain strict proportions which tity.
please the eye, in the same manner as in sound there
are certain strict proportions which please the ear; and
that, in both, the slightest deviation is equally disagree¬
able. Others seem to relish more a comparison between
proportion in numbers and proportion in quantity j
and maintain, that the same proportions are agreeable
in both. The proportion, for example, of the num¬
bers, ..
568 A R C H I T
Principles, bers 16, 24, and 36, are agreeable ; and so, say they,
' v -i are the proportions of a room, whose height is 16 feet,
the breadth 24, and the length 36. But it ought to be
considered, that there is no resemblance or relation be¬
tween the objects of different senses. What pleases the
ear in harmony, is not the proportion of the strings of
the instrument, but of the sound which these strings pro¬
duce. In architecture, on the contrary, it is the pro¬
portion of different quantities that pleases the eye, with¬
out the least relation to sound. The same thing may
be said of numbers. Quantity is a real quality of every
body ; number is not a real quality, but merely an idea
that arises upon viewing a plurality of things in succes¬
sion. An arithmetical proportion is agreeable in num¬
bers *, but have we from this any reason to conclude,
that it must also be agreeable in quantity ? At this rate,
a geometrical proportion^ and many others, ought also
to be agreeable in both. A certain proportion may
coincide in quantity and number 5 and among an end¬
less variety of proportions, it would be wonderful if
there never should be a coincidence. One example is
given of this coincidence in the numbers 16, 24, and
36 but to be convinced that it is merely accidental, we
need but reflect, that the same proportions are not ap¬
plicable to the external figure of a house, and far less
to a column.
It is ludicrous to observe writers acknowledging the
necessity of accurate proportions, and yet differing wide¬
ly about them. Laying aside reasoning and philosophy,
one fact universally agreed on ought to have undeceived
them, that the same proportions which please in a mo¬
del are not agreeable in a large building : a room 48
feet in length, and 24 in breadth and height, is well
proportioned : but a room 12 feet wide and high, and
29 24 long, approaches to a gallery.
Beauty ari- Perrault, in his comparison of the ancients and mo-
sin% from 3ernSj g0es to 0pp0Site extreme 5 maintaining, that
the different proportions assigned to each order of co¬
lumns are arbitrary, and that the beauty of these pro¬
portions is entirely the effect of custom. But he should
have considered, that if these proportions had not ori¬
ginally been agreeable, they could never have been es¬
tablished by custom.
For illustrating this point, we shall add a few exam¬
ples of the agreeableness of different proportious. In a
sumptuous edifice, the capital rooms ought to be large,
otherwise they will not be proportioned to the size of
the building j for the same reason, a very large room is
improper in a small house. But in things thus related,
the mind requires not a precise or single proportion, re¬
jecting all others ; on the contrary, many different pro¬
portions are equally agreeable. It is only when a pro¬
portion becomes loose and distant, that the agreeable¬
ness abates, and at last vanishes. Accordingly, in
buildings, rooms of different proportions are found to
be equally agreeable, even where the proportion is not
influenced by utility. With regard to the proportion
the height of a room should bear to the length and
breadth, it must be extremely arbitrary, considering
the uncertainty of the eye as to the height of a room
when it exceeds 16 or 17 feet. In columns, again,
every architect must confess, that the proportion of
height and thickness varies betwixt eight diameters and
10, and that every proportion between these two ex¬
tremes is agreeable. Besides, there must certainly be
E C T U R E.
Part
a further variation of proportion, depending on the size pr;n(,j, [
of the column. A row of columns 10 feet high, and -y~.
a row twice that height, require different proportions :
The intercolumniations must also differ in proportion ac¬
cording to the height of the row.
Proportion of parts is not only itself a beauty, but is
inseparably connected with a beauty of the highest re¬
lish, that of concord and harmony } which will be plain
from what follows : A room, the parts of which are all
finely adjusted to each other, strikes us not only with
the beauty of proportion, but with a pleasure far supe¬
rior. The length, the breadth, the height, the win¬
dows, raise each of them a separate emotion : These
emotions are similar ; and, though faint when separate- i
ly felt, they produce in conjunction the emotion of con¬
cord or harmony, which is very pleasant. On the other
hand, where the length of a room far exceeds the
breadth, the mind, comparing together parts so inti¬
mately connected, immediately perceives a disagree¬
ment or disproportion which disgusts. Hence a long
gallery, however convenient for exercise, is not an
agreeable figure of a room.
In buildings destined chiefly or solely to please the Form of
eye, regularity and proportion are essentially necessary, structure
because they are the means of producing intrinsic beau-*“‘1
ty. But a skilful artist will not confine his view to re- °
J . _ . . a 11 - , . pin poses
gularitv and proportion j he will also study congruity, i0r whict
which is perceived when the form and ornaments of a they are
structure are suited to the purpose for which it is ap-lnlen(^e-;
pointed. Hence every building ought to have an ex¬
pression suited to its destination. A palace ought to
be sumptuous and grand j a private dwelling, neat and
modest 5 a playhouse, gay and splendid 5 and a monu¬
ment gloomy and melancholy. A heathen temple has
a double destination : It is considered as a house dedi¬
cated to some divinity 5 therefore it ought to be grand,
elevated, and magnificent: It is also considered as a
place of worship j and therefore ought to be somewhat
dark and gloomy, because dimness or obscurity pro¬
duces that tone of mind which is favourable to humi¬
lity and devotion. Columns, besides their chief desti¬
nation of being supports, contribute to that peculiar
expression which the destination of a building requires.
Columns of different proportions serve to express lofti¬
ness, lightness, &c. as well as strength. Situation may
also contribute to expression : Conveniency regulates
the situation of a private dwelling-house ; and the si¬
tuation of a palace ought to be lofty. This leads to a
question, Whether the situation, where there happens
to be no choice, ought, in any measure, to regulate
the form of the edifice ? The connection between a
great house and a neighbouring field, though not ex¬
tremely intimate, demands, however, some congruity.
It would, for example, displease us to find an elegant
building thrown away upon a wild uncultivated coun¬
try : congruity requires a polished field for such a build¬
ing. The old Gothic form of building was well suited
to the rough uncultivated regions where it was invent¬
ed ; hut was very ill adapted to the fine plains of France
and Italy.
The external structure of a house leads naturally tO|ntern&|
its internal structure. A large and spacious room,divisions
which is the first that commonly receives us, is a bad bouses,
contrivance in several respects. In the first place,
when immediately from the open air we step into such
i art I.
incites, a room, its size in appearance is diminished by con-
—f—j trast $ it looks little, compared with the great canopy
of the sky. In the next place, when it recovers its
grandeur, as it soon doth, it gives a diminutive ap¬
pearance to the rest of the house j passing from it, eve¬
ry apartment looks little. In the third place, by its
situation it serves only for a waiting room, and a pas¬
sage to the principal apartments. Rejecting therefore
this form, a hint may be taken from the climax in wri¬
ting for another that appears more suitable : A hand¬
some portico, proportioned to the size and fashion of
the front, leads into a waiting room of a larger size,
and this to the great room, all by a progression of
small to great.
Grandeur is the principal emotion that architecture
is capable of I'aising in the mind : it might therefore
be the chief study of the artist, in great buildings de¬
stined to please the eye. But as grandeur depends
partly on size, it is unlucky for architecture that it is
governed by regularity and proportion, which never
deceive the eye by making objects appear larger than
they are in reality. But though regularity and pro¬
portion contribute nothing to grandeur, so far as that
emotion depends on size j yet they contribute greatly
to it by confining the size within such bounds that it
can be taken in and examined at one view $ for when
objects are so large as not to be comprehended but
in parts, they tend rather to distract than satisfy the
mind.
We shall next pass to such ornaments as contribute
to give buildings a peculiar expression. It has been
doubted, whether a building can regularly admit any
ornament but what is useful, or at least has that ap¬
pearance. But, considering the double aim of archi¬
tecture, as a fine as well as an useful art, there is no
reason why ornaments may not be add&d to please
the eye, without any relation to utility. A private
dwelling house, it is true, and other edifices, where
use is the chief aim, admit not regularly any ornament
but what has at least the appearance of use; but
temples, triumphal arches, and other buildings, in¬
tended chiefly or solely for show, may be highly orna-
32 mented.
' ferent This suggests a division of ornaments into three
1 lis °f or-kinds, viz. I. Ornaments that are beautiful without
i lents, relation to use $ such as statues, vases, basso or alto re¬
lievo : 2. Things in themselves not beautiful, but pos¬
sessing the beauty of utility, by imposing on the spec¬
tator, and appearing to be useful ; such as blind win¬
dows : 3. Where things are beautiful in themselves,
and at the same time take on the appearance>of use ;
such as pilasters.
With regard to the Jirst, we naturally require that
a statue be so placed, as to be seen in every direction,
and examined at different distances. Statues, there¬
fore, are properly introduced to adorn the great stair
that leads to the principal door of a palace, or to les¬
sen the void between pillars. But a niche in the ex¬
ternal front is an improper place for a statue. There
is an additional reason against placing them upon the
roof or top of the walls: their ticklish situation gives
pain, as they have the appearance of being in danger
of tumbling down j besides we are inclined to feel
from their being too much exposed to the inclemen¬
cies of the weather. To adorn the top of the wall
Vol. II. Part II. f
569
with a row of vases, is an unhappy conceit, by placing Principles,
a thing whose natural destination is utility, where it-v—^
cannot have even the appearance of use. As to carv¬
ings upon the external surface of a building, termed
basso relievo when flat, and alto relievo when promi¬
nent, all contx-adictory expi’essions ought to be avoided.
Now, firmness and solidity being the proper expi’essions
of a pedestal, and, on the contrax-y, lightness and deli¬
cacy of carved work, the pedestal, whether of a column
or of a statue, ought to be sparingly ornamented. The
ancients never ventured any bolder ornament than the
basso relievo.
With respect to ornaments of the second kind, it is
a great blunder to contrive them so as to make them
appear useless. A blind window, therefore, when ne¬
cessary for regularity, ought to be so disguised as to
appear a real window: when it appears without dis¬
guise, it is disgustful, as a vain attempt to supply the
want of invention j it shows the irregularity in a stronger
light, by signifying that a window ought to be there in
point of regularity, but that the architect had not skill
sufficient to connect external regularity with internal
convenience.
As to the third, it is an error to sink pilasters so far
into the wall, as to remove totally, or mostly, the ap¬
pearance of use. They should always project so much
from the wall, as to have the appearance of supporting
the entablature over them.
From ornaments in general, we descend to a pillar, Cotumiis.
the chief ornament in great buildings. The destination
of a pillar is to support, really, or in appearance, ano¬
ther part, termed the entablature. With regard to
the form of a pillar, it must be observed, that a circle
is a more agreeable figure than a square, a globe than
a cube, and a cylinder than a parallelopipedon. This
last, in the language of architecture, is saying, that a
column is a more agreeable figure than a pilaster j and
for that reason it ought to be preferred, when all other
circumstances are equal. Another reason concurs,
that a column annexed to a wall, which is a plain sur¬
face, makes a greater variety than a pilaster. Besides,
pilasters at a distance are apt to be mistaken for pillars j
and the spectator is disappointed, when, on a nearer
approach, he discovers them to be only pilasters.
As to the parts of a column, a bare uniform cylin¬
der, without a capital, appears naked ; and without a
base, appears too ticklishly placed to stand firm j it
ought therefore to have some finishing at the top and
bottom : Hence the three chief parts of a column, the
shaft, the base, and the capital. Nature undoubtedly
x’equires proportion among these parts, but it admits
of vai’iety of proportion. Vitruvius and some of the
elder writers seem to think, that the proportions of
columns were derived from the human figure, the ca¬
pital representing the head, the base the feet, and the
shaft the body. The Tuscan has been accordingly
denominated the Gigantic ; the Doric, ihe Herculean;
the Ionic, the Matronal; and the Corinthian, the Vir¬
ginal:—The Composite is a mixture of the Corinthian
and Ionic. As to the base, the principle of utility in¬
terposes to vary it from the human figure, and to pro¬
portion it so to the whole, as to give the column the
appearance of stability. Whether
Among the Greeks, we find only three orders of new orders
columns, the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian, di-oaw be in-
4 C stinguishedvent<;d*
ARCHITECTURE.
57°
ARCHITECTURE.
Part
35
Rules re¬
garding
Principles, stinguished from each other by their destination as
' v——' well as by their ornaments. It has been disputed,
whether any new order can be added to these : some
hold the affirmative, and give for instances the Tuscan
and Composite : others maintain, that these properly
are not distinct orders, but only the original orders
with some slight variation. The only circumstances
that can serve to distinguish one order from another,
are the form of the column, and its destination. To
make the first a distinguishing mark, without regard
to the other, would multiply orders without end. De¬
stination is more limited j and it leads us to distinguish
three kinds of orders 5 one plain and strong for the
purpose of supporting plain and massy buildings j one
delicate and graceful, for supporting buildings of that
character j and between these, a third, for supporting
buildings of a mixed nature. So that, if destination
alone is to be regarded, the Tuscan is of the same or¬
der with the Doric, and the Composite with the Corin¬
thian.
The ornaments of these three orders ought to be
suited to the purposes for which they are intended.
Plain and rustic ornaments would not be a little discord¬
ant with the elegance of the Corinthian order, and
sweet and delicate ornaments not less with the strength
of the Doric.
With respect to buildings of every kind, one rule,
^ . dictated by utility, is, that they be firm and stable,
general. Another, dictated by beauty, is, that they also appear
so to the eye : for every thing that appears tottering,
and in hazard of tumbling down, produceth in the
spectator the painful emotion of fear, instead of the
pleasing emotion of beauty; and accordingly it should
be the great care of the artist, that every part of his
edifice appear to be well supported. Some have intro¬
duced a kind of conceit in architecture, by giving parts
of buildings the appearance of falling j of this kind is
the church of St Sophia in Constantinople : the round
towers in the uppermost stories of Gothic buildings are
in the same false taste.
The most considerable ornaments used in architecture
are five orders of columns, pediments, arches, ballusters,
&c. of which in the following chapters.
Chap. I. Of the Orders of Architecture,
An order consists of two principal members, the Co¬
lumn and the Entablature j each of which is com¬
posed of three principal parts. Those of the columns
are, the Base, the Shaft, and the Capital; and those of
the entablature are, t\\e Architrave, the Frixe, and the
Cornice. All these are subdivided into many lesser
parts, whose number, form, and dimensions, characte¬
rize each order, and express the degree of strength,
delicacy, richness, or simplicity peculiar to it.
Parts of an The parts that compose an order may be distributed
order divid-into two different classes. In the first may be ranged
classed tW°all l^at have any analogy to the primitive huts, and
represent some part that was necessary in their con¬
struction. Such are the shaft of the column, with
the plinth of its base, and the abacus of its capital j
likewise the architrave and triglyphs, the mutules, mo-
dilions, or dentiles, which all of them represent the
rafters, or some other pieces of timber used to sup¬
port the covering 5 and the corona, representing the Pnncjp],
beds of materials that composed the covering. Ally—
these may properly be distinguished by the name of es¬
sential members. The subservient parts, contrived for
the use or ornaments of the former, and commonly cal¬
led mouldings, may constitute the second class.
There are eight regular mouldings^in ornamenting
columns : the fillet, listel, or square ; the astragal, or
bead j the torus, or tore ; the scotia, mouth, or case¬
ment ; the echinus, ovolo, or quarter-round ; the in¬
verted cyma, talon, or ogee ; the cyma, cyma recta,
or cymation j the cavetto, or hollow. The names of
these allude to their forms, and their forms are adapted
to the purposes for which they are intended. See Plate
XLII.
The ovolo and talon, as they are strong at the extre¬
mities, are fit for supports 5 the cyma and cavetto,
though improper for supports, serve for coverings to
shelter other members 5 the torus and astragal, being
shaped like ropes, are intended to bind and fortify the
parts with which they are connected: But the use of
the scotia and fillet is only to separate and distinguish
the other mouldings, to give a graceful turn to the
profile, and to prevent the confusion which would arise
from joining several curved members together.
There are various methods of describing the contours
of mouldings j but the simplest and best is to form them
of quadrants of circles. ^
An assemblage of what are called essential parts and Profile,
mouldings is termed & profile. The most perfect pro-w^at*
files are such as are composed of few mouldings, varied
in form and size j and so disposed, that the straight
and curved ones succeed each other alternately. When
ornaments are, employed in mouldings, some of them
should be left plain, in order to give a proper repose:
For when all are ornamented, the figure of the profile
is lost. ^
Columns, in imitation of trees, from which they drewDiminu-
their origin, are tapered in their shafts. In the an-tion oft
tiquesthe diminution is variously performed : beginning'unm,‘
sometimes from the foot of the shaft, and at others from
one quarter, or one-third of its height $ the lower
part being perfectly cylindrical. The former of these
was most in use among the ancients, and being the most
natural and graceful, ought to have the preference,
though the latter hath been more universally practised
by modern artists.
The first architects, says M. Auzoult, probably
made their columns in straight lines, in imitation of
trees j so that their shaft was a frustum of a cone ;
but finding this form abrupt and disagreeable, they
made use of some curve, which, springing from the
extremities of the superior and inferior diameters of
the column, swelled beyond the sides of the cone,
and by that means gave a more pleasing figure to the
contour.
Vitruvius, in the second chapter of his third book,
mentions this practice, but in so obscure and cursory a
manner, that his meaning hath not been understood j
and several of the modern architects, intending to
conform themselves to his doctrine, have made the
diameters of their columns greater in the middle than
at the foot of the shaft. Leon Baptista, Alberti, and
others of the Florentine and Roman architects, have
carried
art I.
■ineiples. carried tills to a very great excess} for which they have
—y——' been justly blamed, as it is neither natural, reasonable,
nor beautiful.
Monsieur Auzoult observes, that a column, supposing
its shaft to be the frustum of a cone, may have an ad¬
ditional thickness in the middle, without being swelled
there beyond the bulk of its inferior parts} and sup¬
poses the addition mentioned by Vitruvius to signify no¬
thing but the increase towards the middle of the column,
occasioned by changing the straight line, which at first
was in use, for a curve.
The supposition is extremely just, and founded on
what is observed in the works of antiquity } where
there is no instance of columns thicker in the middle
than at the bottom, though all have the swelling hint¬
ed at by Vitruvius, all of them being terminated by
curves ; some granite columns excepted, which are
bounded by straight lines} a proof, perhaps, of their
antiquity, or of their having been wrought in the
quarries of Egypt, by bungling and unskilful work¬
men.
Monsieur Blondel, in his book entitled Resolution
des qualre principaux problemes d'Architecture, teaches
Various manners of diminishing columns ; the best and
simplest of which is by means of the instrument which
Nicomedes invented to describe the first conchoid:
for this, being applied at the bottom of the shaft, pei-
forms at one sweep both the swelling and the diminu¬
tion } giving such a graceful form to the column, that
it is universally allowed to be the most perfect practice
hitherto discovered. The columns in the Pantheon,
accounted the most beautiful among the antiques, are
made in this manner} as appears by the exact measures
of one of them, to be found in Desgodet’s Antiquities of
jp Rome.
gnola’s To give an accurate idea of the operation, it will be
sthod. necessary first to describe Vignola’s method of diminu¬
tion, on which it is grounded. “ As to this second me¬
thod, says Vignola, it is a discovery of my own, and al¬
though it be less known than the former, it will be ea¬
sily comprehended by the figure. Having therefore de¬
termined the measures of your column, (that is to say,
Plate the height of the shaft, and its inferior and superior dia-
XXVII. meters), draw a line indefinitely from C through D,
perpendicular to the axis of the column: this done, set
off the distance CD, which is the inferior semidiameter,
from A, the extreme point of the superior semidiame¬
ter, to B, a point in the axis ; then from A, through
B, draw the line ABE, which will cut the indefinite
line CD in E ; and, from this point of intersection E,
draw through the axis of the column any number of
rays, as E b a, on each of which, from the axis towards
the circumference, setting off the interval CD, you may
find any number of points, a, a, a, through which if a
curve be drawn, it will describe the swelling and dimi-
43 nution of the column.”
come- Though this method be sufficiently accurate for
Vs in- practice, especially if a considerable number of points
be found, yet, strictly speaking, it is defective} as the
curve must either be drawn by hand, or by applying
a flexible ruler to all the points} both of which are
liable to variations. Blondel, therefore, to obviate this
objection, (after having proved the curve passing from
A to C through the points a, a, to be of the same na¬
ture with the first conchoid of the ancients), employed
, . V1
the instrument of Nicomedes to describe it} the con- princi„]es,
struction of which is as follows : v——v—1.<*
Having determined, as above, the length of the
shaft, with the inferior and superior diameters of the
column, and having likewise found the length of the
line CDE, take three rulers, either of wood or metal,
as EG, ID, and AH } of which let EG and ID be
fastened together at right angles in G* Cut a dove¬
tail groove in the middle of EG, from top to bottom }
and at the point E on the ruler ID (whose distance,
from the middle of the groove in EG, is the same as
that of the point of intersection from the axis of the
column) fix a pin : then on the ruler AH set off the
distance AB, equal to CD the inferior semidiameter
of the column, and at the point fix a button, whose
head must exactly be fitted to the groove made in
EG, in which it is to slide } and, at the other extre¬
mity of the ruler AH, cut a slit or canal from II to
K, whose length must not be less than the difference
of length between EB and ED, and whose breadth
must be sufficient to admit the pin fixed at E, which
must pass through the slit, that the ruler may slide
thereon.
The instrument being thus completed, if the middle
of the groove, in the ruler EG, be placed exactly
over the axis of the column, it is evident that the
ruler AH, in moving along the groove, will with the
extremity A describe the curve A a a C } which curve
is the same as that produced by Vignola’s method of
diminution, supposing it done with the utmost accuracy}
for the interval AB, a b, is always the same } and the
point E is the origin of an infinity of lines, of which
the parts BA, b a, b a, extending from the axis to the
circumference, are equal to each other and to DC.
And if the rulers be of an indefinite size, and the
pins at E and B be made to move along their respec¬
tive rulers so that the intervals AB and DE may be
augmented or diminished at pleasure, it is likewise evi¬
dent that the same instrument may be thus applied to
columns of :.ny size* 41
In the remains of antiquity the quantity of the di- Quantity of
minution is various } but seldom less than one-eighth ofdiminBlioD.
the inferior diameter of the column, nor more than one-
sixth of it. The last of these is by Vitruvius esteemed
the most perfect.
Of the Tuscan Order.
. 4«
This is the most solid and simple of all the orders. plate
It is composed of few parts, devoid of ornaments, and XXXIX,
so massy, that it seems capable of supporting the hea¬
viest burden. There are no remains of a regular Tus¬
can order among the antiques : the doctrine of Vitru¬
vius concerning it is obscure } and the profiles of Pal¬
ladio, ScamoZzi, Serlio, de 1’Orme and Vignola, are all
imperfect.
The height of the Tuscan order is 14 modules, or
semidiameters, each consisting of 30 minutes } and that
of the whole entablature 3^ modules} which being di¬
vided into ten equal parts, three of them are for the
height of the architrave, three for the frize, and the
remaining four for the cornice. The capital is one
module } the base, including the lower cincture of the
shaft is likewise one module } and the shaft, with its
upper cincture and astragal, 12 modules*
These are the general dimensions of the order } the
4 C a particular
AKCHITECTURE.
572 A B C H I T
Principles, particular dimensions may be learned by inspection of
1 1 v the plates.
In the remains of antiquity, the quantity of diminu¬
tion at the top of the Tuscan column is various j but
seldom less than one-eighth, nor more than one-sixth, of
the inferior diameter of the column. The last of these
is generally preferred ; and Chalmers and others make
the same diminution in all columns, without regard to
their order.
43
Of the Doric Order.
Plate XL. This order is next in strength to the Tuscan ; and
being of a grave, robust, and masculine aspect, is, by
Scamozzi, called the Herculean. As it is the most
ancient of all the orders, it retains more of the struc¬
ture of the primitive huts than any of the rest j the
triglyphs in its frize representing the ends of the
joists, and the nmtules in its cornice representing the
rafters.
The height of the Doric column, including its capital
and base is 16 modules, and the height of the entabla¬
ture 4 $ the latter of which being divided into eight
parts, two of them are for the architrave, three for the
frize, and three for the cornice.
In most of the antiques, the Doric column is exe¬
cuted without a base. Vitruvius likewise makes it
without one', the base, according to him, having been
first employed in the Ionic order, in imitation of the
sandal of a woman’s foot. Scamozzi blames this prac¬
tice, and most of the modern architects are of his opi-
44 nion-
Ornaments In the profile of the theatre of Marcellos, the frize
of the frize, is enriched with husks and roses $ the architrave con-
sits only of one fascia and a fillet j the drops are coni¬
cal j the metope is enriched with a bull’s skull, adorn¬
ed with a garland of beads, in imitation of those on the
temple of Jupiter Tonans, at the foot of the Capitol.
In some antique fragments, and in a great many mo¬
dern buildings, the metopes are alternately adorned with
ox skulls and pateras. But they may be filled with any
other ornaments, according to the destination of the
building.
The Ionic Order
45
Plate XLI. Is of a more slender make than the Doric or Tus¬
can j its appearance is simple, yet graceful and ma¬
jestic j its ornaments are few j so that it has been
compared to a sedate matron, in decent, rather than
magnificent attire.
Among the ancients, the form of the Ionic profile
appears to have been more positively determined than
that of any other order: for in all the antiques at
Home (the temple of Concord excepted), it is exactly
the same.
T-he modern artists have likewise been unanimous in
their opinions ; all of them, excepting Palladio and
his imitators, having employed the dentil, cornice, and
the other parts of the profile, nearly as they are found
in the Coliseum, the temple of Fortune, and the theatre
of Marcel 1 us.
The height of the Ionic column is 18 modules, and
that of the entablature 44, or one quarter of the height
of the column, as in the other orders, which is a trifle
less than in any of the antique Ionics. In all the an¬
tiques, the base is Attic j and the shaft of the column
2
E C T U R E. part
may either be plain, or fluted with 24 flutings, or 20 princi 1{
only, as in the temple of Fortune. The plan of the ——y—
flutings may be a trifle more than a semicircle, as in the
forum of Nerva, because they then appear more distinct.
The fillets, or intervals between them, must not be
broader than one-third of the breadth of a fluting, nor
narrower than one-fourth. The ornaments of the ca¬
pital must correspond with the flutings of the shaft;
and there must be an ove above the middle of each flut¬
ing. I he volutes ought to be traced according te Mr
Goldman’s method, which is as follows : 6 I
Plate XLII. fig. 9. Draw the cathetus, FC, whose Method of
length must be 15 minutes, or one-fourth of a module : drawing
and from the point C, describe the eye of the volutevolutes*
ABBD, of which the diameter is to be 6-f- minutes j
divide it into four equal sectors by the diameters AB,
DE. Bisect the radii CA, CB, in 1 and 4 j and on
the line, 1, 4, construct a square, 1, 2, 3, 4. From
the centre C, to the angles 2, 3, draw the diagonals
C 2, C 3, and divide the side of the square r, 4, into
six equal parts, at 5, 9, C, 12, 8. Then through the
points, 5, 9, 12, 8, draw the lines 5, 6, 9, -10, 12, 11,
7> parallel to the diameter ED, which will cut the
diagonals in 6, 7, 10, 11 ; and the points 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
7, 8, 9, jo, 11, 12, will be the centres of the vo¬
lute. From the first centre 1, with the distance 1 F,
describe the quadrant FG 5 from the second 00011*6 2,
with the distance 2 G, describe the quadrant GH $ and
continuing the same operation from all the 12 centres,
the contour of the volute will be completed.
Fig. 10. The centres for describing the fillet are
found in this manner. Construct a triangle, of which
the side AF is equal to the part of the cathetus con¬
tained between AF, and the side FV equal to C 1 j
place the distance FS from F towards A, equal to FS
the breadth of the fillet, and through the point S draw
the line SI, which will be to C 1 in the same propor¬
tion as AS is to AF j place this line on the diameter
of the eye AB : divide it into three equal parts j and
through the points of division, draw lines parallel to the
diameter El), which will cut the diagonals C 2, C 3,
and you will have twelve new centres, from whence the
interior contour of the fillet may be described in the
same manner as the exterior one was from the first
centres.
Of the Corinthian Order.
The proportions of this order are extremely delicate. pjjtc
It is divided into a great variety of members, and en- XLHl
riched with a profusion of ornaments. Scamozzi calls
it the virginal order; and indeed it has all the delicacy
in its make, and all the delicacy in its dress, peculiar
to young girls.
The most perfect model of the Corinthian order is
generally allowed to be in the three columns in the
Campo V accino at Borne, the remains, as it is thought,
of the temple of Jupiter Stator.
The Corinthian column should be 20 modules high,
and the entablature 5 •, which proportions are a medi¬
um between those of the Pantheon and the three co¬
lumns. I he base of the column may be either Attic
or Corinthian : They are both beautiful. If the enta¬
blature be enriched, the shaft may be fluted. The flut¬
ings may be filled, to one-third of their height, with
cabblings, as the inside of the Pantheon j which will
strengthen
'art I. A R C H I T
inciple*. strengthen the lower part of the column, and make it
less liable to injury.
In most of the antiques at Rome, the capital of this
order is enriched with olive leaves j the acanthus being
seldom employed but in the Composite. De Cordemoy,
however, prefers the acanthus.
The divisions of the entablature bear the same pro¬
portions to each other, as the Tuscan, Ionic, and Com¬
posite orders.
The Composite
Is, strictly speaking, only a species of the Corinthian j
and therefore retains, in a great measure, the same cha¬
racter.
It does not appear that the ancients affected any par-
ds of or-ticular form of entablature to this order. Sometimes
ncnts. jjie cornjce [s entirely plain, as in the temple of Bac¬
chus j at others, as in the arch of Septimius Severus, it
is enriched with dentiles differing very little from the
Ionic 5 and in the arch of Titus, there are both dentils
and modilions j the whole form of the profile being
the same with the Corinthian, as executed in the an¬
tiques at Rome.
The modern architects have varied more in this than
in any other order, each following the bent of his own
fancy.
The height of the Composite column, and parts of
the entablature, is the same with that of the Corin¬
thian. The foot of the leaves of the capital ought
not to project beyond the upper part of the shaft.
The different bunches of leaves should be strongly
marked 5 the sprigs which arise between the upper ones
should be kept flat upon the vase; and the ornaments of
the volutes must not project beyond the fillets that en¬
close them.
Chap. II. Of Pilasters.
(jo These differ from columns only in their plan ;
which is a square, as that of columns is round. Their
bases, capitals and entablatures, have the same parts,
with the same heights and projections, as those of co¬
lumns : they are also distinguished in the same manner,
by the names of Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and
Composite.
The column is undoubtedly more perfect than the
pilaster. However, they may be employed with great
propriety on many occasions. Some authors declaim
against pilasters, because, according to them, they do
not admit of diminution. But this is a mistake j there
are many instances in the remains of antiquity, of their
being diminished. Scamozzi always gave his pilasters
the same diminution as his columns : Palladio and Inigo
Jones have likewise diminished them in many of their
buildings.
1 liters Pilasters are employed in churches, galleries, halls,
’ ;re u»e- and other interior decorations, to save room ; for,
as they seldom project beyond the solid wall above
one quarter of their diameter, they do not occupy near
so much space as columns. They are likewise used
in exterior decorations ; sometimes alone, instead of
columns, on account of their being less expensive j
aqd sometimes they accompany columns, being placed
behind them to support the architraves where they
enter the building, as in the Pantheon at Rome j or,
48
Plate
atv.
49
fere nt
E C T U R E. 573
in the same line with them, to fortify the angles, as in Principles,
the portico of Septimius. vt-—-
When pilasters are used alone, they should project
one quarter of their diameter beyond the walls. When
placed behind columns, especially if they be very near
them, they need not project above one-eighth of their
diameter. But, when placed on a line with columns,
their projection must be regulated by that of the co¬
lumns ; and consequently, it can never be less than a
semidiameter, even when the columns are engaged as
much as possible. ^
The shafts of pilasters are frequently adorned with How orna-
flutings, in the same manner as those of columns j the raented.
plan of which may be a trifle more than a semicircle j
their number must be seven on each face, which makes
them nearly of the same size with those of columns.
The intervals, or fillets, must either be one-third or
one-fourth of the fluting in breadth.
The capitals of pilasters are profiled nearly in the Plate
same manner as those of columns. XLY":
Chap. HI. Of Attics..
These very properly follow the pilasters $ being 53
nothing more than square pillars with their cornices.
They had their origin in Athens, where it was for
many ages a rule in building to conceal the roof.
For this purpose, nothing served so well as a kind of
low or little order ranged in a continued line, singly,
or with the interruption of ballusters; which, rising
above the rest of the work and before the roof, hid
it perfectly, and placed something agreeable in view.
The place of attics, therefore, is at the uppermost
extremity of a building, to which they serve as a
crown, or very properly make a finishing for tha
other orders when they have been used in the struc¬
ture. They must never stand under any thing except
such ornaments as are placed at the very top. These
attics should never exceed in height one-third of the
height of the order on which they are placed, nor be
less than one quarter of it. The base, dye, and corf-
nice, of which they are composed, may bear the same
proportions to each other as those of pedestals do ; and
the base and cornice may be composed of the same
mouldings as those of pedestals. Sometimes the attic is
continued throughout j at others, it projects, and forms
a pilaster over each column of the order. The breadth
of this pilaster is seldom made narrower than the upper
diameter of the column below it, and never broad¬
er. Its projection may be equal to one quarter of its
breadth.
Chap. IV. Of Persians, Caryatides, and Termini.
Besides columns and pilasters, it is sometimes cas-
tomary to employ representations of the human figure,
to support entablatures in buildings. The male figures
are called Persians ; and the female, Caritms or Carya¬
tides.
The Persians are so called from a victory gained origin 0£
over the Persians by Pausanias, who having brought Pei-sians.
home spoils and trophies to the Athenians, they fixed
upon Persian figures for those which should support
entablatures, and thus kept in mind that there were
once Persian slaves in Athens, To represent these con¬
quered
574 A R C H I T
Principles, quered people in the lowest state possible, they loaded
—V"—them with the heaviest entablature, viz. that of the
Doric order. In process of time, however, other fi¬
gures besides those of Persians were introduced, and
other entablatures put over them $ but the name was
still retained.
Of Carya- The proper Caryatides are women dressed in long
tide*. robes, after the Asiatic manner $ and the origin of
the device was as follows:—The Carians had been
long at war with the Athenians; but being at length
totally vanquished, their wives were led away cap¬
tives ; and, to perpetuate the memory of this event,
trophies were erected, in which figures of women
dressed in the Caryatic manner, were used to support
entablatures like the Persians ; and though other fe¬
male figures were afterwards used in the same manner,
the name of Caryatides was always retained.
Theirpro- r^'*ie anc*ents made frequent use of Persians and Ca-
portioas* ryatides, and delighted in diversifying them a thou-
3c«. sand ways. The modern artists have followed their
examples j and there is a great variety of compositions
of this kind to be met with in different parts of Europe.
Indecent attitudes, distorted features, and all mon¬
strous productions, ought to be avoided, of which there
are many examples in Gothic buildings. On the con¬
trary, the attitudes should be simple and graceful, the
countenance always pleasing, though varied and strong¬
ly marked agreeable to the nature of the object repre¬
sented.
The Caryatides, or female figures, should never much
exceed the human size. Rut the Persians, or male fi¬
gures, may be of any size ; and the larger the better,
as they will strike the beholder with the greater awe
and astonishment. Persians may be used with proprie¬
ty in arsenals, galleries of armour, &c. under the fi¬
gures of captives, heroic virtues, &c. Their entabla¬
ture ought to be Doric, and bear the same proportion
to them as to columns of the same height. The enta¬
blature for Caryatides ought to be either Ionic or Co¬
rinthian, according as the character of the figures is
more or less delicate.
Teraimi. Termini are sometimes employed, instead of Persians
or Caryatides, to support the entablatures of monu¬
ments, chimney-pieces, and such like compositions.
These figures owe their origin to the stones used by
the ancients to mark the limits of particular posses¬
sions. Numa Pompilius, to render these inviolable,
consecrated the terminus into a deity, and instituted
festivals and sacrifices to his honour. In a short time,
what were formerly only large upright stones, were re¬
presented in human shape; and afterwards introduced
as ornaments to temples and other buildings. The ter¬
mini are now principally used as ornaments for gardens
and fields.
Chap. V. Of Pedestals.
S9 Most writers consider the pedestal as a necessary
part of the order, without which it is not complete,
ft is indeed a matter of little importance whether it
be considered in that light, or as a distinct composi¬
tion : we shall therefore treat of a pedestal as a di¬
stinct body, having no more connexion witli the order
than an attic, a basement, or any other part with which
it may on some occasions be associated.
E C T U R £. part
A pedestal consists of three principal parts \ the base, pr^j j
the dye, and the cornice. The dye is always nearly ofyil
the same figure 5 being constantly either a cube or a
parallelopipedon : but the base and cornice are varied
and adorned with more or fewer mouldings, according
to the simplicity or richness of the composition in which
the pedestal is employed. Hence pedestals are, like co¬
lumns, distinguished by the names of Tuscan, Doric,
Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite.
Some authors are averse to pedestals, and compare aPcfosy,
column raised on a pedestal to a man mounted on stilts j where pi
imagining that they were introduced merely from neces-per.
sity, and for want of columns of a sufficient length. It
is indeed true, that the ancients often made use of arti¬
fices to lengthen their columns j as appears by some
that are in the Baptistery of Constantine at Rome; the
shafts of which, being too short for the building, were
lengthened and joined to their bases by an undulated
sweep, adorned with acanthus leaves. Nevertheless,
there are many occasions where pedestals are evidently
necessary; and some in which the order, were it not so
raised, would lose much of its beautiful appearance.
Thus, in the insides of churches, if the columns that
support the vault were placed immediately on the ground,
the seats would hide their bases and a good part of
their shafts*, and in the theatres of the ancients, if the co¬
lumns of the scene had been placed immediately on the
stage, the actors would have hid a part of them from
the audience. In anterior decorations, a pedestal dimi¬
nishes the parts of the order, which otherwise might per¬
haps appear too clumsy, and hath the advantage of pla¬
cing the column in a more favourable view, by raisin^
its base nearer the level of the spectator’s eye. In a se¬
cond order of arcades, there is no avoiding pedestals:
as without them it is impossible to give the arches any
tolerable proportion. ^
With regard to the proportion that pedestals ought Their pn
to bear to that of the columns they support, it is by noportiom.
means fixed. Both the ancients and moderns vary
greatly on this head. Vignola’s proportions are gene¬
rally reckoned the best. He makes his pedestals in all
the orders of the same height, viz. one-third of the co¬
lumn j and as their breadth of course increases or dimi¬
nishes in the same degree as the diameters of their respec¬
tive columns do, the character of the order is always
preserved, which, according to any other method, is
impossible.
As to the divisions of the pedestals j if the whole
height be divided into nine parts, one of them may be
given to the height of the cornice, two to the base, and
the six remaining to the dye. The breadth of the dye
is always made equal to that of the plinth of the column.
The projection of the cornice may be made equal to its
height; and the base being divided into three parts,
two of them will be for the height of the plinth, and
one for the mouldings, whose projection must be less
than that of the cornice. These measures are common
to all pedestals. See Plate XLV.
Chap. VI. Of Intercolumniations.
Columns are either engaged, or insulated; and,
when insulated, are either very near the wall, or at a
considerable distance from it. Engaged columns, or
such as are near the walls of a building, are not limited
ia
] irt I.
nciples. in their intercolumniations, as these depend on the
* -v*—' breadths of the arches, windows, niches, or other de¬
corations placed between the columns. But columns
that are entirely detached, and perform alone the of¬
fice of supporting the entablature, as in peristyles,
porches and galleries, must be near each ether, for the
gj sake both of real and apparent solidity,
j erent The intercolumniations among the ancients were va-
j rco- rious. Those used in the Ionic and Corinthian orders
1 were the pycnostyle, of which the interval was equal
t he au- *° 0116 <iiameter and a half of the column 5 the systyle,
s it*. whose interval was equal to two diameters : the eu-
style, to two and a quarter 5 the diastyle to three, and
the araeostyle to four. In the Doric order, they used
other intercolumniations, regulating them by the tri¬
glyphs, one of which was always placed directly over
the middle of each column ; so that they were either
systyle, monotriglyph, of one diameter and a half j
diastyle, of two diameters and three quarters j or araeo-
style, of four diameters j and the Tuscan intervals were
very wide, some of them being above seven diameters,
which was very practicable, as the architraves were of
wood.
Among these different intercolumniations, the pyc¬
nostyle and systyle are too narrow j for although the
ancients made frequent use of them, that ought ra¬
ther to be ascribed to necessity than choice. For as
the architraves were composed of single stones, ex¬
tending from the middle of one column to the middle
of another, it would have been difficult, especially in
large buildings, to find blocks of a sufficient length
for diastyle intervals. With regard to the arseostyle
and Tuscan intercolumniations, they are by much too
wide, and can only be used in rustic buildings, where
the architraves are of wood ; neither is the diastyle
sufficiently solid in large compositions. The eustyle is
a medium between the narrow and broad intervals j and
being at the same time both spacious and solid, hath been
preferred to any of the rest by the ancients as well as
the moderns.
t J by Vignola observed nearly the same proportion in all
} aola. his intercolumniations : which practice, though con¬
demned by several writers, is certainly preferable to
any other j as it preserves the character of each order,
and maintains in all of them an equal degree of real
solidity. Setting aside therefore the pycnostyle and
systyle dispositions on account of their want of space,
and the araeostyle for its deficiency in point of strength,
it may be established, that the diastyle and eustyle in¬
tercolumniations (the latter of which, on most occasions,
ought to have the preference) may be employed in all
the orders without distinction, excepting the Doric j in
which the most perfect interval is ditriglyph j neither
the monotriglyph, nor the araeostyle being to be suffer¬
ed but in cases of necessity.
Sometimes, on account of the windows, doors, nich¬
es, and other decorations, which correspond with the
intercolumniations of the peristyle, or gallery, it is
not possible to make the interval so narrow as eustyle,
or even as diastyle : wherefore the moderns, autho¬
rised by some few examples of the ancients, where
grouped columns are employed, have invented a man¬
ner of disposing them, called by Perrault arceostyle^
which admits of a larger interval, without any detri¬
ment to the apparent solidity of the building. This
3
575
kind of composition is composed of two systyle interco-principle*,
lumniations *, the column that separates them being ap- y-—‘
proached towards one of those at the extremities, suf¬
ficient room only being left between them for the pro¬
jection of the capitals 5 so that the great space is three
diameters and a half wide, and the little one half a dia¬
meter.
In peristyles, galleries, or porticoes, all the interco¬
lumniations must be equal j but in a logic, or porch,
the middle interval may be broader than the others,
by a triglyph or modilion, or three or four dentils 5 un¬
less the columns at the angles be coupled or grouped
with pilasters: in which case, all the intervals should be
of the same dimensions.
When buildings are very small, as is frequently the
case in temples and other inventions used for ornament¬
ing gardens, the intercolumniations may be broader, in
proportion to the diameter of the columns, than usual;
because, when they are nearer each other than three
feet, there is hardly room for a bulky person to pass
between them.
Chap. VII. Of Arches.
e5
Arches are not so magnificent as colonnades j but Arches,
they are more solid and less expensive. They are pro-where pro¬
per for triumphal entrances, gates of cities, of palaces, Per*
of gardens, and of parks, and, in general, for all open¬
ings that require an extraordinary breadth. <55
There are various manners of adorning arches. How &-
Sometimes their piers are rusticated ; sometimes they domed,
are adorned with pilasters, termini, or caryatides; and
sometimes they are made sufficiently broad to admit
niches or windows. The circular part of the arch is
either surrounded with rustic key-stones, or with an
archivolt enriched with mouldings j which, in the
middle, is sometimes interrupted by a console, a mask,
serving at the same time as a key to the arch, and as
a support to the architrave of the order. The archi¬
volt is sometimes supported by an impost, at the head
of the pier j and at others by columns placed on each
side of it, with a regular entablature, or architrave
and cornice. There are likewise instances of arcades
without piers, the arches being turned on single co¬
lumns, as in the temple of Faunus at Rome, &c. This
practice, however, ought to be seldom imitated, as it
is neither solid nor handsome.
When arches are large, the key-stone should never
be omitted, but cut in the form of a console, and car¬
ried close under the soffit of the architrave, which on
account of its extraordinary length, requires a sup¬
port in the middle. The imposts ol arches should ne¬
ver be omitted : at least, if they be, a platform ought
to supply their place. If columns are employed with¬
out pedestals in arcades, they should always be raised
on a plinth. In all arches, the circular part ought
not to spring immediately from the impost, but take
its rise at such a distance above it as is necessary in
order to have the whole curve seen at the proper point
of view. 67
The void or aperture of arches should never be t’ropor-
higher nor much lower, than double theiiv breadth ;UoDS*
the breadth of the pier should seldom exceed (wo-
thu'ris, nor be less than one-third, of the breadth of
the i»i:cb $ and the angular pier ought to be broader
thaiii
ARCHITECTURE.
576 ARCH
Principles, than the others, by one-half, one-third, or one-fourth ;
v-—-y-~—^ the impost should not be more than one-seventh, nor
less than one-ninth of the aperture ; and the archivolt
must not be more than one-eighth, nor less than one-
tenth of it. The breadth of the console must, at the
bottom, be equal to that of the archivolt j and its sides
must be drawn from the centre of the arch ; the length
of it must not be less than one and a half of its smallest
breadth, nor more than double. The thickness of the
pier depends on the breadth of the portico j for it must
be strong enough to resist the pressure of its vault.
But with regard to the beauty of the building, it should
not be less than one quarter of the breadth of the arch,
nor more than one-third. These are the general di¬
mensions of arches.
I T E C T U R E.
* Part
Chap. VIII. Of Orders above Orders.
(id
When, in a building, two or more orders are em¬
ployed, one above another, the laws of solidity require
the strongest should be placed lowermost. Hence the
Tuscan must support the Doric, the Doric the Ionic,
the Ionic the Composite or Corinthian, and the Com¬
posite the Corinthian.
This rule, however, is not always strictly adhered to.
Most authors place the Composite above the Corinthian.
There are likewise examples where the same order is
repeated, as in the theatre of Statilius Taurus, and the
Coliseum ; and others, where an intermediate order is
omitted, and the Ionic placed on the Tuscan, or the
Corinthian on the Doric. But none of these practices
onght to be imitated.
In placing columns above one another, the axis of
all the columns ought to correspond, or be in the same
perpendicular line, at least in front.
Propor- With regard to the proportions of columns placed
lunT of]^°"a^0ve each other, Scamozzi’s rule, That the lower dia-
ced'above" nieter ^ie superior column should constantly be equal
each other. t° the upper diameter of the inferior one, is universal¬
ly esteemed the best, and gives all the columns the ap¬
pearance of one long tapering tree, cut into several
pieces. According to this rule, the Doric column will
be to the Tuscan, as 13-5- to 14 ; the Ionic to the Doric,
as 15 to 16; the Composite or Corinthian to the Ionic,
as i6y to 18 } and the Corinthian to the Composite, as
i6-|- to 20.
In Britain there are few examples of more than
two stories of columns in the same aspect j and though
in Italy, and other parts of Europe, we frequently
meet with three, and sometimes more j yet it is a prac¬
tice by no means to be imitated j for there is no possi¬
bility of avoiding many striking inconsistencies, or of
preserving the character of each order in its interco-
lumnal decorations.
Chap. IX. Of Basements.
70
Instead of employing several orders one above the
other in a composition, the ground floor is sometimes
made in the form of a basement, on which the order
• that decorates the principal story is placed. The pro¬
portion of these basements is not fixed, but depends on
the nature of the rooms on the ground floor. In the
palace of the Porti in Vicenza, the height of the base¬
ment is equal to that of the order. In some buildings, Princjp],
its height exceeds two-thirds of that of the order ; and, y—
in others, only half the height of the order. It is not,
however, advisable to make the basement higher than
the order it supports j neither should it be lower than
one half of the order.
The usual method of decorating basements is with Decora-
rustics of different kinds. The best, where neatness t*005) & I,
and finishing is aimed at, are such as have a smooth °* base' j
surface. Their height, including the joint, should ne- ‘ I
ver be less, nor much more, than half a module of
the order placed on the basement. Their figure may
be from a square to a sesquialtera j and their joints
may be either square or chamfered. The square ones
should not he broader than one-eighth of the height
of the rustic, nor narrower than one-tenth j and their
depth must be equal to their breadth j those that are
chamfered must form a rectangle ; and the breadth of
the whole joint may be from one-fourth to one-third
of the height of the flat surface of the rustic.
Chap. X. Of Pediments.
Pediments, among the Homans, were used only 7?
as coverings to their sacred buildings, till Caesar ob¬
tained leave to cover his house with a pointed roof,
after the manner of temples. In the remains of anti¬
quity we meet with two kinds of pediments, the tri¬
angular and the circular. The former of these are
promiscuously applied to cover small or large bodies :
But the latter, being of a heavier figure, are never
used but as coverings to doors, niches, windows, or
gates.
As a pediment represents the roof, it should never
be employed but as a finishing to the whole composi¬
tion.
The ancients introduced but few pediments into their
buildings, usually contenting themselves with a single
one to adorn the middle or principal part. But some
of the moderns, and particularly the Italians, have been
so immoderately fond of them, that their buildings fre¬
quently consist of almost nothing else.
The girder being a necessary part in the construc¬
tion of a roof, it is an impropriety to intermit the
horizontal entablature of a pediment, by which it is
represented, to make room for a niche, an arch, or a
window. 73
In regular architecture, no other form of pedi-Forms, S
ments can be admitted, besides the triangular and cir-of pedi¬
cular. Both of them are beautiful; and when a con- iaents‘
siderable number of pediments are introduced, as when
a range of windows are adorned with them, these two
figures may be used alternately, as in the niches of the
Pantheon, and in those of the temple of Diana at
Nismes.
The proportion of pediments depends upon their
size ; for the same proportions will not do in all cases.
When the base of the pediment is short, its height
must be increased ; and when the pediment is long,
the height must be diminished. The best proportion
for the height is from one-fifth to one-fourth of the
base, according to the extent of the pediment, and the
character of the body it covers. The materials of the
roof must also be attended to $ for if it be covered with
tiles,
; at I. A R C H I T
nciples. tiles, it will be necessary to raise it more than one quar-
-Y-——' ter of the base, as was the custom of the ancients in
their Tuscan temples.
The tympan is always on a line with the front of
the frize ; and when large, admits of various orna¬
ments.
Chap. XL Of Ballustrades.
74 Ballustradks are sometimes of real use in build¬
ings ; and at other times they are only ornamental.
Such as are intended for use, as when they are em¬
ployed in staircases, before windows, or to enclose ter¬
races, &c. must always be nearly of the same height;
never exceeding three feet and a half, nor ever less than
three. But those that are principally designed for or¬
nament, as when they finish a building, should be pro¬
portioned to the architecture they accompany : and their
height ought never to exceed four-fifths of the height
of the entablature on which they are placed ; nor should
it ever be less than two-thirds thereof, without count¬
ing the zocholo, or plinth, the height of which must
be sufficient to leave the whole ballustrade exposed to
75 view.
1 portion, T|ie ljest proportion for ballustrades is to divide the
j whole given height into thirteen equal parts j eight
of these for the height of the balluster, three for the
base, and two for the cornice or rail j or into four¬
teen, (if it be required to make the balluster less),
giving eight parts to the balluster, four to the base,
and two to the rail. One of these parts may be called
a module; and being divided into nine minutes, may
serve to determine the dimensions of the particular
members.
In ballustrades, the distance between two ballusters
should not exceed half the diameter of the balluster
measured in its thickest part, nor be less than one-third
of it.
The breadth of the pedestals, when they are placed
on columns or pilasters, is regulated by them; the dye
never being made broader than the top of the shaft, nor
much narrower ; and when there are neither columns
nor pilasters on the front, the dye should not be much
lower than a square, and seldom higher. On stairs,
or any other inclined planes, the same proportions are
to be observed as on horizontal ones.
Chap. XII. Of Gates, Doors, and Piers,
I >rsand There are two kinds of entrances, viz. doors and
8 :s* gates. The former serve only for the passage of per¬
sons on foot j but the latter likewise admit horsemen and
carriages. Doors are used as entrances to churches
and other public buildings, to common dwelling-
houses and apartments : And gates serve for inlets
to bities, fortresses, parks, gardens, palaces, &c. The
apertures of gates being always wide, they are gene¬
rally made in the form of an arch, that figure being
the strongest. But doors, which are generally of small
dimensions, are commonly parallelograms, and closed
horizontally.
The genei’al proportion for the apertures, both of
gates and doors, whether arched or square, is, that the
height be about double the breadth.
The most common, and indeed almost the only or-
Vol. II. Part II. f
E C T U R E. 57'
naments for gates are the piers by which they are sup- Principle*,
ported, and which were originally no more than bare  —
posts into which the hinges of the gate were driven. . 77
Though this, however, is the only proper use of piers, ^lCls’
it must be concealed as much as possible, and they must
seem as if placed there only for ornament. As they
are to be fixed to the wall before the house, so they
must also be proportioned to it j and as they are to be
seen in the same view with the front of the house, their
cori'espondence with it is equally necessary. They are
to be placed on a plinth, and something must be al¬
lowed by way of ornament and finishing at the top,
All the luxuriance of fancy may be employed in the
decoration of piers : but it will be proper to observe
this general rule, that the pier being an inferior build¬
ing, it must never be richer than the front of the house.
If, for instance, the front of the house is ornamented
with columns of the Doric order, the Ionic must not
be used in the piers ; and it will be found better to
omit columns altogether, than to make use of the Tus¬
can order for piers in any case. If the Ionic or Co¬
rinthian orders are employed in the front of the house,
the Doric or Ionic.may be used with propriety in the
piers. One piece of ornament is almost universal in
piers, namely, a niche with its seat, made as if for the.
conveniency of weary travellers. On this account, it
will be proper to raise the columns on pedestals, because
the continued moulding from their cap will be a good
ornament under the niche. The base of the columns
ought always to be the Attic.
Inside doors, however small the building may be,
should never be narrower than two feet nine inches $
nor should they ever, in private houses, exceed three
feet six inches in breadth, which is more than sufficient
to admit the bulkiest person. Their height should at
least be six feet three or four inches j otherwise a tall
person cannot pass without stooping. In churches, pa¬
laces, &c. where there is a constant ingress and egress
of people, the apertures must be larger. The smallest
breadth that can be given to a gate is eight and a half
or nine feet, which is but just sufficient for the passage
of a coach.
Plate XLVI. fig. i. is a rustic door, composed by the
celebrated Vignola, in which the aperture occupies two-
thirds of the whole height, and one-half of the whole
breadth $ the figure of it being a double square. The
rustics may be either smoothed or hatched ; their joints
must form a rectangle, and the breadth of each joint
may be one-third, or two-sevenths, of the vertical sur¬
face of a rustic. The joints of the claveaux, or key¬
stones, must be drawn to the summit of an equilateral
triangle, whose base is the top of the aperture. The
architrave surrounding the aperture may be composed
either of a large ogee and fillet, or of a platband and
fillet. Its whole breadth must be one-tenth of the breadth
of the aperture : the remaining part of each pier being
for the rustics. The entablature is Tuscan : the cor¬
nice is to be one-fifteenth of the whole height of the.
door ; and what remains below it being divided into 2t
•equal parts, the two uppermost of them will be for the
frize and architrave, and the remaining 19 for the rus¬
tics and plinth at the foot of the door.
Pig. 2. is a disposition of Michael Angelo’s. The
windows of the Capitol at Rome are of this kind 5 and
Sir Christopher Wren has executed doors of the same
4 D kind
578
ARCHITECTURE.
Part
Principles, kind under the semicircular porches in the flanks
v-——y--.—1 of St Paul’s. The figure of the aperture may be a
double square; the architrave one-sixth of the breadth
of the aperture •> and the whole entablature one quar¬
ter of its height. The front of the pilasters or co¬
lumns, on each side, must be on a line with the fascia
of the architrave j and their breadth must be a semi¬
diameter.
Fig. 3. is likewise a design of Vignola’s. It is of
the Corinthian order, and executed in the Cancellaria
at Rome. The height is equal to double its breadth ",
and the whole ornament at the top is equal to one-
third of the height of the aperture. The architrave
is in breadth one-fifth of the breadth of the aperture j
and the pilasters, that support the consoles, are half as
broad as the architrave. The whole is well imagined,
but rather heavy j and.it will be best to reduce the
architrave to one-sixth of the aperture, diminishing
the entablature proportionally.
Fig. 4. is a design of Serlio’s. The aperture may
be either twice as high as broad, or a trifle less. The
diameter of the columns may be equal to one quarter
of the breadth of the aperture j and their height
may be from eight diameters to eight and a half. The
entablature must be somewhat less than one quarter of
the height of the columns j and the height of the pe¬
diment may be one quarter of its base.
Fig. 5. is a door in the saloon of the Farnese in
Rome designed by Vignola. The aperture forms a
double square. The entablature is equal to three-
elevenths of its height, the architrave being one of
these elevenths $ and the whole ornaments on the
sides, consisting of the ai'chitrave and pilasters, are
equal to two-sevenths of the breadth of the aperture:
the cornice is Composite, enriched with mutules and
dentils; and the frize is adorned with a festoon of
laurel.
Fig. 6, is copied from a door at Florence, said to
be a design of Cigoli’s. The height of the aperture is
a trifle more than twice its breadth. It is arched j
and the impost is equal to half a diameter. The co¬
lumns are Ionic, somewhat above nine diameters high $
and their shafts are garnished each with five rustic
cinctures. The entablature is less than one quarter of
the column ; and the breadth of the tablet, in which
there is an inscription, is equal to the breadth of the
aperture.
Plate LVI. fig. 1. is a pier invented by Mr Cham¬
bers. Its diameter may be one quarter of its height,
exclusive of the plinth and vase ; and the height of
both these may be equal to one diameter of the pier,
or a trifle less. The rustics may either be plain,
hatched, or vermiculated: the height of each course
may be one-eleventh part of the height of the pier,
counting to the top of the entablature j the entabla¬
ture two-elevenths j and the base of the pier one-
eleventh part.
Fig. 2. is likewise a composition of Mr Chambers,
imitated from M. Angelo Buonaroti’s design for Car¬
dinal Sermonetti. The height of the aperture is some¬
what more than twice its breadth ; which breadth oc¬
cupies one-third of the breadth of the whole composi¬
tion. The order is Composite ; and the height of the
entablature is equal to one quarter of the height of
the column. He has made a break in it over each
column: but, unless the column project considerably, prjnci
it will be as well to carry the entablature on in av~
straight line. The dimensions of the particular parts
may be measured on the design.
Fig. 3. is also a composition of Mr Chambers, exe¬
cuted at Goodwood, the seat of his grace the duke of
Richmond, in Sussex. The diameter is one quarter
of the height, exclusive of the finishing, which is equal
to one diameter j and the height of the pier, from the
top of the entablature downwards, being divided into
eleven and a half parts, one of these parts is given to
the base, one to each rustic, and one and a half to the
astragal, frize, and cornice.
Fig. 4. is a composition of the late earl of Burling¬
ton’s, that great architect and patron of the fine arts,
which is executed at Chiswick, and at Bedford-house
in Bloomsbury square, with some little difference.
Fig. c. is an invention of Mr Chambers.
Fig. 6. is one of Inigo Jones’s j of which kind he
hath executed a couple at Aimsbury in Wiltshire, the
seat of his grace the duke of Queensberry.
Chap. XIII. Of Windows.
The first consideration with regard to windows is Proper ij
their size, which varies according to the climate, the of wind,!
destination of the building, &c. In Britain, the win¬
dows of the smallest private houses are commonly from
3 to 3^- feet broad: and being generally twice their
breadth in height, or somewhat more, in the principal
apartments, they generally rise to within a foot or two
of the ceilings of the rooms, which are frequently no
higher than 10 feet, and at most 12 or 13. But, in
more considerable houses, the apartments are from 15
to 20 feet high, and sometimes more ; and in these
the windows are from 4 to 5 and 5^ feet broad, and
high in proportion. These dimensions are sufficient for
dwelling houses of any size in this country ", when they
are larger, they admit too much of the cold air in win¬
ter. But churches, and other buildings of that kind,
may have larger windows, proportioned to the size of
the structures.
The proportions of the apertures of windows de¬
pend upon their situation. Their breadth in all the
stories must be the same ; but the different heights of
the apartments make it necessary to vary the height
of the windows likewise. In the principal floor, it
may be from 2^ of the breadth to 2\, according as
the rooms have more or less elevation. In the ground
story, where the apartments are lower, the apertures
of the windows seldom exceed a double square, and,
when they are in a rustic basement, they are frequent¬
ly made much lower. The height of the windows of
the second floor may be from of their breadth to
$ and attics and mezzanines may be either a per¬
fect square, or somewhat lower. 7;
The windows of the principal floor are generally Rowo
most enriched. The simplest method of adorningraente( j
them is, with an architrave surrounding the aperture
and crowned with a frize and cornice. The windows
of the ground floor are sometimes left entirely plain,
without any ornament: and at others they are sur¬
rounded with rustics, or a regular architrave with a
frize and cornice. Those of the second floor have ge¬
nerally an architrave carried entirely round the aper-
turej,
So
A R C H I T
ture J and the same is the method of adorning attic
and mezzanine windows, but the two last have seldom
either frize or cornice $ whereas the second floor win¬
dows are often crowned with both.
The breasts of all the windows on the same floor
should be on the same level, and raised above the floor
from two feet nine inches to three feet six inches at
the very most. When the walls are thick, the breasts
should be reduced under the apertures, for the conve-
niency of looking out. In France, the windows are
frequently carried quite down to the floor. When the
building is surrounded with gardens, or other beautiful
objects, this method renders the rooms exceeding plea¬
sant.
The interval between the apertures of windows de¬
pends in a great measure on their enrichments. The
breadth of the aperture is the least distance that can
be between them $ and twice that breadth should be
the largest in dwelling houses j otherwise the rooms
will not be sufficiently lighted. The windows in all
the stories of the same aspect must be placed exactly
above one another.
Plate XLVII. fig. i. is a design of P. Lescot, ab¬
bot of Clagny, executed in the old Louvre at Paris.
The apertures may be a double square, or a trifle
more ; the architrave from one-sixth to one-seventh
of the breadth of the aperture : the pilaster is equal
to that breadth, when the architrave is narrow j or
less by one quarter, or one-fifth, when it is broad.
The whole entablature should not exceed one quarter
of the height of the aperture, nor be much lower.
The consoles may be equal in length to half the
breadth of the aperture at most, and to one-third of it
at least.
Fig. 2. is a design of Palladio’s executed at the
Chiericato in Vicenza: its proportions are not much
difterent from the following. The plat-band that sup¬
ports the window is equal to the breadth of the archi¬
trave.
Fig. 3. is likewise a design of Palladio’s, executed by
him in many of his buildings. The aperture is a double
square. The breadth of the architrave is one-sixth of
the breadth of the aperture ; and the frize and cornice
together are double the height of the architrave. The
breadth of the consoles is two-thirds of the breadth of
the architrave.
Fig. 4. is a design of Ludovico da Cigoli ; and exe¬
cuted in the ground floor of the Ranunchini palace at
Florence.
Fig. 5. is a design of Inigo Jones, executed at the
Banqueting House. The aperture may be a double
square ; the architrave may be one-sixth of its breadth *,
the whole entablature one quarter of its height; and
the breadth of the consoles two-thirds of the breadth of
the architrave.
Fig. 6. is a design of M. Angelo Buonaroti, execu¬
ted at the Farnese.
Chap. XIV. Of Niches and Statues.
It has been customary, in all ages, to enrich differ¬
ent parts of buildings with representations of the hu¬
man body. Thus the ancients adorned their temples,
baths, theatres, 8cc. with statues of their deities, heroes,
and legislators. The moderns still preserve the same
E C T U E E.
579
custom, placing in their churches, palaces, See. statues principle?,
of illustrious persons, and even groups composed of ' v—
various figures, representing occurrences collected from
history, fables, &c. Sometimes these statues or groups
are detached, raised on pedestals, and placed contigu¬
ous to the walls of a building, or in the middle of a
room, court, or public square. But they are most fre¬
quently placed in cavities made in the walls, called Si
niches. Of these there are two sorts j the one formed Different
like an arch in its elevation, and semicircular or semi- k|n<ls of
elliptical in its plan ; the other is a parallelogram both l1iclies‘
in its plan and elevation.
The proportion of both these niches depends on the
characters of the statues, or the general form of the
groups placed in them. The lowest are at least a
double square in height 5 and the highest never exceed
of their breadth.
With regard to the manner of decorating them j10W
when they are alone in a composition, they are gene- rated,
rally enclosed in a pannel, formed and proportioned
like the aperture of a window, and adorned in the
same manner. In this case the niche is carried quite
down to the bottom ; but on the sides and at the top,
a small space is left between the niche and the archi¬
trave of the pannel. And when niches are intermix¬
ed with windows, they may be adorned in the same
manner with the windows, provided the ornaments be
of the same figure and dimensions with those of the
windows. .
The size of the statues depends on the dimensions of Statue*,
the niches. They should be neither so large as to have
the appearance of being rammed into the niches, as in
Santa Maria Majora at Rome ; nor so narrow as to
seem lost in them, as in the Pantheon. The distance
between the outline of the statue and side of the niche
should never be less than one-third of a head, nor more
than one-half, whether the niche be square or arched :
and when it is square, the distance from the top of the
head to the ceiling of the niche should not be greater
than the distance on the sides. Statues are generally
raised on a plinth, the height of which may be from
one-third to one-half of a head ; and sometimes, where
the niches are large, the statues may be raised on small
pedestals.
The character of the statue should always correspond
with the character of the architecture with which it is
surrounded. Thus, if the order be Doric, Hercules,
Jupiter, Mars, iEsculapius, and all male statues, repre¬
senting beings of a robust and grave nature, may be in¬
troduced ; if Ionic, then Apollo, Bacchus, &c. j and
if Corinthian, Venus, Flora, and others of a delicate
nature, should be employed.
S4
Chap. XV. Of Chimney-pieces.
Among the ancients there are very few examples of
chimney-pieces to be met with. Neither the Italians
nor French have excelled in compositions of this kind.
Britain, by being possessed of many able sculptors at
different times, has surpassed all other nations, both in
taste of design, and workmanship.
The size of the chimney must be regulated by the Proportions
dimensions of the room where it is placed. In the and *itna-
smallest apartments, the breadth of the aperture should tlons.
never be less than three feet, or three feet six inches.
4 D 2 In
58o A R C H I T
Principles. In rooms, from 20 to 24 feet square, or of equal super-
 ficial dimensions, it may be from 4 to 4? feet broad}
in those of 24 to 27, from 4!- to 5 } and in such as ex¬
ceed these dimensions, the aperture may even be ex¬
tended to 54- or 6 feet.
The chimney should always be situated so as to be
immediately seen by those who enter the room. The
middle of the partition wall is the most proper place
in halls, saloons, and other rooms of passage } but in
drawing-rooms, dressing-rooms, and the like, the mid¬
dle of the back wall is the best situation. In bed-rooms,
the chimney is always in the middle of one of the par¬
tition walls ; and in closets and other very small places,
to save room, it is put in a coiner. Wherever two
chimneys are used in the same room, they should be
placed either directly facing each other, if in different
wTalls, or at equal distances from the centre of the wall
in which both are.
The proportion of the apertures of chimney-pieces
of a moderate size is generally a perfect square } in
small ones, it is a trifle higher } and in large ones, a
trifle lower. Their ornaments consist in architraves,
frizes, cornices, columns, pilasters, termini, carvati-
des, consoles, and all kinds of ornaments of sculpture,
representing animals, vegetables, &c. likewise vases,
chalices, trophies of arms, &c. In designing them,
regard must be had to the nature of the place where
they are to be employed. Such as are intended for
halls, saloons, guard-rooms, galleries, and other large
places, must be composed of large parts, few in num¬
ber, of distinct and simple forms, and having a bold re¬
lief } but chimney-pieces for drawing-rooms, dressing-
rooms, &c. may be of a more delicate and complicated
nature.
Chimney-pieces are composed of wood, stone, or
marble } the last of which ought to be preferred,
as figures or profiles are best represented in a pure
white.
Plate XLVIII. exhibits diflerent designs for chim¬
ney-pieces by Palladio and Inigo Jones. Their pro¬
portion may be gathered from the designs, which are
accurately executed.
Chap. XVI. Of the Proportions of R ooms.
86 The proportions of rooms depend in a great measure
on their use and actual dimensions 5 but, with regard
to beauty, all figures, from a square to a sesquilateral,
may be employed for the plan.
The height of rooms depends on their figure. Flat-
ceiled ones may be lower than those that are coved.
If their plan be a square, their height should not ex¬
ceed five-sixths of the side, nor be less than four-fifths }
and when it is oblong, their height may be equal to
their breadth. But coved rooms, if square, must be as
high as broad } and when oblong, they may have their
height equal to their breadth, more one-fifth, one quar¬
ter, or even one-third of the difference between the
length and breadth : and galleries should at least he in
height one and one-third of their breadth, and at most
one and a half, or one and three-fifths.
High rooms The coldness of the British climate is a strong ob-
improper injection to high rooms-, so that it is not uncommon to
Britain. see tjie most magnjficent apartments not above I j, 16,
or at most 18 feet high } though the extent of the
2
ECTURE. parti
rooms would require a much more considerable eleva- Pifocipl
tion. But where beauty is aimed at, this practice -v~ E
ought not to be imitated.
When rooms are adorned with an entire order, the
entablature should never exceed one-sixth of the whole
height in flat-ceiled rooms, and one-sixth of the up¬
right part in coved ones } and when there are neither
columns nor pilasters, but only an entablature, its
height should not be above one-seventh of these
heights. If the rooms be finished with a simple cor¬
nice, it should never exceed one-fourteenth, nor ever
be less than one-fifteenth part of the above-mentioned
height.
Chap. XVII. Of Ceilings,
Ceilings are either flat, or coved in different man- 88
ners. The simplest of the flat kind are those adorned
with large compartments, surrounded with one or se¬
veral mouldings, either let into the ceiling, or project¬
ing beyond its surface} and when the mouldings that
form the compartments are enriched, and some of the
compartments adorned with well executed ornaments,
such ceilings have a good effect, and are very proper
for common dwelling-houses, and all low apartments.
Their ornaments and mouldings do not require a bold
relief} but, being near the eye, they must be finished
with taste and neatness. For higher rooms, a flat ceil¬
ing, which has the appearance of being composed of
various joists framed into each other, and forming com¬
partments of various geometrical figures, should be em¬
ployed. The sides of the joists forming the compart¬
ments are generally adorned with mouldings, and re¬
present either a simple architrave, or an architrave
cornice, according to the size of the compartments ami
the height of the room.
Coved ceilings are more expensive } but they are
likewise more beautiful. They are used promiscuously
in large and small rooms, and occupy from one-fifth to
one-third of the height of the room. If the room be
low in proportion to its breadth, the cove must likewise
be low' } and when it is high, the cove must be so like¬
wise} by which means the excess of the height will be
rendered less perceptible. But where the architect is
at liberty to proportion the height of the room to its su¬
perficial dimensions, the most eligible proportion for
the cove is one-fourth of the whole height. In paral¬
lelogram-figured rooms, the middle of the ceiling is ge¬
nerally formed into a large flat pannel. This pannel,
with the border that surrounds it, may occupy from one
half to three-fifths of the breadth of the room. The
figure of the cove is commonly either a quadrant of a
circle or of an ellipse, taking its rise a little above the
cornice, and finishing at the border round the great
pannel in the centre. The border projects somewhat
beyond the coves on the outside; and, on the side to¬
wards the pannel, it is generally made of sufficient
depth to admit the ornaments of an architrave, or archi¬
trave and cornice.
In Britain circular rooms are not much in use } but
they are very beautiful. Their height must be the
same with that of square rooms ; their ceilings may be
flat} but they are handsomer when coved, or of a
concave form.
Arcs dovblaux, or soffits of arches, when narrow,
are
irt I.
nciples. are ornamented with guillochs, or frets $ but when
-v-—' broad, they may be adorned in a different manner.
When the profiles of the room are gilt, the ceilings
ought likewise to be gilt. The usual method is to
gild all the ornaments, and to leave the grounds white,
pearl colour, light blue, or of any other tint proper to
set oft' the gilding to advantage. Painted ceilings, so
common in France and Italy, are but little used in Bri¬
tain.
Chap. XVII. Of Stairs and Staircases.
S<) There are many kinds of staircases : for, in some,
the steps are made straight $ in others winding ) in
others, mixed of both. Of straight stairs, some fly
directly forward, others are square, others triangular.
Others are called French flights ; or winding stairs,
(which in general are called spiral, or cockle stairs') ;
of which some are square, some circular or round, and
some elliptical or oval } and these again are various,
some winding about a solid, others about an open
newel. Stairs mixed of straight and winding steps
are also of various kinds \ some are called dog legged;
some there are that wind about a solid newel, and others
90 that fly about a square open newel.
ureases Great care ought to be taken in placing of the
placed staircase in any building ; and .therefore staircases
ought to be described and accounted for justly when
the plan of a building is made. For want of this,
sometimes unpardonable errors have been committed :
such as having a little blind staircase to a large house,
or, on the other hand, a large spacious staircase to a
little one.
Palladio says, in placing staircases, the utmost care
ought to be taken ; it being difficult to find a place
convenient for them, that will not at the same time
prejudice the rest of the building. But commonly the
stairs are placed in the angle, wing, or middle of the
front.
To every staircase are required three openings.
First, The door leading thereto.
Secondly, The window, or windows, that give light
to it:
And, Thirdly, The landing.
Fi rst, The door leading to the staircase should be so
placed, that most of the building may be seen before
you come at the stairs, and in such a manner that it
may be easy for any person to find out.
Secondly, For the windows 5 if there be but one, it
must be placed in the middle of the staircase, that
thereby the whole may be enlightened.
Thirdly, The landing of stairs should be large and
spacious, for the convenient entering into rooms ; in
a word, staircases should be spacious, light, and easy
in ascent. The height of large steps must never be
less than six inches, nor more than seven inches and a
half.
The breadth of steps should never be less than 10
inches, nor more than 18 inches; and the length of
1 them not less than three feet, nor more than 12.
9* Plate XLIX. fig. I. A staircase of two flights.—.
A shows the manner of drawing the ramp, which is to
rise equal to the height of the first step of the next
flight, and as much as its kneeling ; as is shown by the
rcmip intersecting the rail of the second flight.
581-
Fig. 2. shows the straight rail intersecting a circular Principle.
Fig. 3. section of two different hand rails.
Fig. 4. shows the manner of dove-tailing the riser
into the step.
Plate L. fig. 1. represents a staircase, with flights, 92
and its landing rail.
Fig. 2. shows the solid part of the step out of which
the scroll is formed ; where a represents the oversail of
the step ; b, The thickness of the bracket, with its mi¬
tring to the riser; and c. The string board.
Fig. 4. shows the scale for drawing the scroll of
fig. 3.—To perform which, take the distance from I to
the centre, in fig. 3. and set it from 1 to the centre
in fig. 4.; divide that extent into three parts, then set
four such parts on the upper side of the scale, and draw
the line from 4 to I ; set one foot of your compasses at
4, and strike the circular line ; let that be divided in- r-
to 12 equal parts, and then draw lines from 4 through
those divisions to the upright line.
The scale being thus made, draw the scroll of fig. 3.
by it in the following manner.
Set one foot of your compasses in I, and describe a
stroke at c ; take the same distance, and with one foot
in 2, cross the stroke at c ; then from c, turn the part
from 1 to 2, and proceed in the same manner : for if
the distance were taken in the scale from 1 to the
centre, it wmiild strike the circle too flat; and if taken
from 2, it would strike the circle too quick.
When this is well understood, there will be little dif¬
ficulty in drawing the scroll below fig. 2.; which throws
itself out farther in proportion than that in fig. 3.; for
this will always be the case when the upper line of the,
scale, which consists of four divisions in fig. 4. is made
but with three divisions or less ; whence it appears,-
that the upper line of the scale may be drawn at what
length you please, according as you would bring in or
keep out the scroll.
Plate LI. shows the manner of squaring twist rails. 93
Fig. 2. exhibits the pitch board, to show what part
of the step the twisted part of the rails contains ; the
three doated lines drawn from the rail to the pitch
board represent the width of the rail, which is to be
kept level. The dotted lines a and b show how much
half the width of the rail turns up from its first begin¬
ning to 3.
Fig. 3. shows the same pitch board, with the man¬
ner of the rail’s turning up. If the sides of the twisted
part of the rail be shaped by the rail mould, so that
they direct down to its ground plan, that is, the upper
side of the rail being first struck by the mould, then
apply the mould to the under side, as much back as
the level of the pitch board shows, by being struck on
the side of the rail, and t^en fig. 3. being applied to
the outside of the rail, from its first twisting part to 3,
will show how much wood is to be taken off.
Fig. 5. exhibits the square of the rail, with the
raking line of the pitch board drawn through the mid¬
dle on the upper side ; then draw the depths of the side
of the rail parallel to this, and the dotted lines from
the diagonal of tire rail ; these lines show what quan¬
tity of wood will be wanting on the upper and lower
sides of the rail. Set your compasses at c, and draw
the circular stroke from the raking part of the pitch
board to £ ; take the distance a b and transfer it from
a to
ARCHITECTURE.
582
Practice, a to b, in fig. 7. The several distances thus found may
1 v ' be set at any number of places, ranging with the straight
part of the rail ; and it then forms the width of the
mould for the twisting part of the rail.
Fig. 7. shows the sweep of the rail. The rail cannot
be fixed less than one-fourth part from the nosing or
front of the step.
The remaining part of the pitch board may be di¬
vided into any number of parts, as here into four j
from these divisions draw lines across the pitch board
to the raking line $ then take the distances from the
ground line of the pitch board to the plan of the rail,
and set them perpendicular from the raking line of the
pitch board; and these divisions, when the rail is in its
proper position, lie directly over the divisions on the
ground plan.
In this figure /, ?», and «, rise as much above 0 as
the dotted line in fig. 5. does above the width of the
rail: and they sink as much below 0 as the other dot¬
ted line in fig. 5. falls below the width of the rail ; the
same thicknesses must be glued upon 0, though the
greatest part will come off in squaring. The reason
of placing the letters /, m, and n, where they are, is
that they might not obstruct the small divisions of the
rail mould.
Fig. 4. shows how to find the rail when it takes
more than one step. The remaining part of the pitch
board is divided into four parts, as before in fig. 7.
and it takes in two such parts of the next step. Draw
lines from these divisions to the diagonal of the pitch
board as in fig. 7. then take the distance ab, and
set it from c to d, and so proceed with the other divi¬
sions.
Another way to find the outside of the rail mould is,
to draw all the divisions across the plan of the rail; then
take the distance from the ground line of the pitch
board to 4, transfer it from the diagonal of the pitch
board to 4 on the rail; and so proceed with the other
distances. Now, when the rail is put in its proper si¬
tuation, c will be perpendicular to b, and all the divi¬
sions, as 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. in the rail, will be perpendicu¬
lar to 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. in the ground plan.
Fig. 6. shows the plan of a rail of five steps.
Part II
To find the rail.—Set five divisions, as from e to h, p ..
which is the height of the five steps ; draw the diagonalL - Cy
A to the plan of the rail; then take the distance ef
and transfer it to g h, and proceed in the same manner
with the other seven distances.
To find the width of the rail mould.—Draw the lines
across the plan of the rail, as at k; set that distance
from the diagonal to i; and so proceed with the rest,
as shown in fig. 4.
Having formed the sides of the rail perpendicular to
its ground plan, and having squared the lower end of
the rail, then take a thin lath, and bend it with the
rail, as is represented by zrc, fig. 1.
This is the readiest method of squaring a solid rail;
but if the rail be bent in the thicknesses, the nosing of
the steps must be drawn upon a cylinder, or some other
solid body of a sufficient width to contain the width of
the rail or string board.
r Represents the depth of the rail, touching the
nose of each step. Take a sufficient number of thick¬
nesses of this width, to make the thickness of your rail,
glue them altogether upon your cylinder or templet;
confine them till they are dry, and the rail taken off is
ready squared. Proceed in the same manner with the
architrave, marked a.
Chap. XIX. Of Roofs*
Plate LII. fig. i. shows the form of a trussed roof, 94
with three ring posts, that may carry 70 feet or up¬
wards.
Fig. 2. exhibits an M roof, capable of carrying as
great an extent as the former. Indeed both these de¬
signs are capable of carrying almost any extent.
Fig. 3. represents two different sorts of trusses.
Fig. 4. shows the manner of piecing timber. Some¬
times the joint may be extended as far as a, with ano¬
ther bolt through it. To the right is shown a different
sort of joint.
Fig. 5. shows the manner of trussing a girder. If
the trusses are full long, with the pieces b and c, you
may make them as light as you please.
Fig. 6. represents the manner of trussing partitions.
ABCHITECTURE.
PART II. PRACTICE OF ARCHITECTURE.
HAVING thus described and given rules for the
most generally received proportions of the different
parts of buildings, both of the useful and ornamental
kind, we must next give an account of the method of
meeting different kinds of edifices ; and here the judge¬
ment of the architect must necessarily be very much
employed, as no fixed rules have been laid down by
which he can be directed in all cases. As a necessary
preliminary, however, to the construction, we must first
consider,
Chap. I. The Situations of Houses.
9S Though it must be, in many cases, impossible to
choose such a situation as might be agreeable either to
the architect or the proprietor, vet where a choice can
be made, there are certainly a great many circum¬
stances that will determine one situation to be prefer¬
able to another. These circumstances depend entirely
on the person who is to inhabit the house. A farmer,
for instance, ought to dwell in the most centrical part
of his farm; an independent gentleman must regard
the healthiness, the neighbours with whom he can con¬
verse, the prospect from his house, and also the aspect
of the ground near it. To answer these purposes of
health and pleasure, an open elevated situation is the
best, as the air is there pure, and the prospect extensive :
but too elevated a situation is disagreeable, as being
both difficult of access, and exposed to cold and bleak
winds. To build in bottoms between hills is both un-
healthful and unpleasant, the house being in a manner
buried, and the ground near it generally marshy from
the
art II.
ARCHITECTURE.
ractice. the rain water which runs down from the hills, which
—v—renders the air unwholesome. As a garden also is a
very necessary article to a country habitation, the soil
is by no means a matter of indifference ; and therefore
it may be concluded, that an elevated situation on a
gravelly loam, near some running water, is the best
situation for a country house.
Chap. II. Of the Construction of Edifices in general.
The proper situation of a house, or any other build¬
ing, being chosen, according to its intended nature, the
next thing to be considered is to lay the foundation in
a proper manner. The only security in a house or any
other building whatever, is in having a good founda¬
tion, and no error is so dangerous as that which is com¬
mitted here} as the shrinking of the foundation but the
6 breadth of a straw may cause a rent of five or six inches
mlities ofw*de i*1 the superstructure. To guard against errors of
“ground this kind, the qualities of the ground for a considerable
eessary depth must be carefully observed,
tin d** r^1C beSt foundation is that which consists of gravel
or stone } but, in order to know whether the inferior
strata are sufficient for the support of the building, it
will be advisable to sink wells at some little distance.
By attending to what is thrown up in digging these,
the architect will be acquainted with what lies under
the stony or gravelly bed which on the surface pro¬
mises so much security, and will know what measures
^ to take.
icky But though a stony or gravelly bottom is undoubt-
mnd edly the most sure and firm, where all is sound beneath,
ueUmes there is no kind of ground which may prove more fal-
ngeious. jacjot|S^ or occasJon suc[j terrible accidents. The rea¬
son of this is, that such kind of ground often contains
absolute vacuities} nor is rock itself, though a founda¬
tion upon a rock is strong even to a proverb, free from
dangers of the same kind. Caverns are very frequent
in rocky places: and should a heavy building be erect¬
ed over one of these, it might suddenly fall down alto¬
gether. To guard against accidents of this kind, Pal¬
ladio advises the throwing down great weights forcibly
on the ground, and observing whether it sounds hollow,
or shakes ; and the beating of a drum upon it, by the
sound of which an accustomed ear will know whether
the earth is hollow or not.
Where the foundation is gravel, it will be proper to
examine the thickness of the stratum, and the qualities
of those that lie under it, as they have appeared in dig¬
ging. If the bed of gravel is thick, and the under
strata of a sound and firm kind, there needs no assist¬
ance ; if otherwise, we must have recourse to various
98 methods in order to supply the defect,
idy or Tlie other matters which may occur for a founda-
undhowt*00 are c^ay’ san(l> common earth, or rotten boggy
ttaged. groiin(fi Clay will often both raise and sink a founda¬
tion } yet it has a solidity which, with proper manage¬
ment, is very useful. The marshy, rotten, or boggy
ground is of all others the worst} yet even upon this
great buildings may be raised with perfect safety, pro¬
vided proper care be taken. In case of boggy earths,
or nnfirm sand, piling is one of the most common me¬
thods of securing a foundation } and, notwithstanding
the natural disadvantage of the earth, piles, when pro-
3.
583
perly executed, are one of the firmest and most secure Practice,
foundations.
In foundations near the edge of waters, we shouKl
always be careful to sound to the very bottom} as^
many terrible accidents have happened from the ground waters dan-
being undermined by rivers. The same method is togerous.
be followed when the ground on which we build has
been dug or wrought before. It ought never to be
trusted in the condition in which it is left: but we must
dig through it into the solid and unmoved ground, and
some way into that, according to the weight and big- ico
ness of the intended edifice. The church of St Peter’s Defect in
at Rome is an instance of the importance of this last s
observation. I hat church is in great part built upon * >me'
the old circus ol Nero } and the builders having ne¬
glected to dig through the old foundation, the struc¬
ture is consequently so much the weaker. The walls
were judged of strength enough to bear two steeples
upon the corners of the frontispiece } but the founda¬
tion was found too weak, when it was impossible to re¬
medy the defect perfectly.
Before the architect, however, begins to lay the
foundation of the building, it will be proper to con¬
struct such drains as may be necessary for carrying off
the rain, or other refuse water that would otherwise 101
be collected and lodged about the house. In making Drains how--
of drains for carrying off this water, it will be neces-made*
sary to make large allowances for the different quanti¬
ties that may be collected at different times. It must
also be considered, that water of this kind is always
loaded with a vast quantity of sediment, which, by its
continual falling to the bottom will be very apt to
choke up the drain, especially at those places where
there happen to be angles or corners in its course.
The only method of preventing this is by means of cer¬
tain cavities disposed at proper distances from one an¬
other. In these the sediment will be collected, and 102
they are for that reason called cesspools. With regard Sessp00,*’
to these, the only directions necessary are, that they
be placed at proper distances, be sufficiently large, and
placed so as to be easily cleaned. It is a good rule to
make a sesspool at each place where the water enters
the drain: as by this means a considerable quantity of
sediment will be prevented from entering the channel
at all. Others are to be made at proper distances,
especially where there are any angles. They must be
made sufficiently large ; the bigger, in moderation,
the better } and they must also be covered in such a
manner as to be easily got at in order to be cleaned.
But, as putrid water is exceedingly noxious, it will be
necessary to carry up a brick funnel over every sess¬
pool, in order to prevent the collection of the putrid
effluvia, which would otherwise occasion the death of
the person who cleaned it. io^
All drains ought to be arched over at top, and may Proportions
be most conveniently built of brick. According toof drains,
their different sizes, the following proportions of height
and thickness may be observed. If the drain is 18
inches wide, the height of the walls may be one foot,
and their thickness nine inches ; the bottom may be
paved with brick, laid flatwise, and the arch turned
four inches. If the drain is 22 inches wide, the side
tvalls are then to be one foot three inches in height,
and the rest constructed as before. If it is 14 inches
wide.
Practice, 'vide, the height of the walls may be nine inches, and
* ~-v—1 the sweep of the arch four. A drain ol a yard wide
should have the same height, and the arch turned oyer
it ought to be nine inches thick. Upon the same prin¬
ciples and proportions may other drains of any size be
104 constructed. _ x
Foundation The sewers and drains being constructed in a man-
of buildingsner proportioned to the size of the intended building,
«ou au , j.|ie architect may next proceed to lay the foundation
of the walls. Here the first care must be, that the
floor of the foundation be perfectly smooth and level.
The Italians begin with laying over it an even cover¬
ing of strong oak plank $ and upon that they lay, with
the most exact care, the first course of the materials.
Whether we take this method, or begin upon the na¬
ked floor, all must be laid with the most exact truth
by rule-and line. When the board plat is laid, a
course of stone is the best first bed, and this is to be
laid without mortar ; for lime would make the wood
decay, which otherwise, in a tolerably good soil, will
last for ages. After this, all the courses should follow
with the same perfect evenness and regularity. If the
materials are brick, they should be laid on with an
equal, and not too great quantity of mortar : if stone,
they ought to be placed regularly, and in the same si¬
tuation in which they lay in the quarry : for many
stones which will bear any weight flatwise, and in
their natural position, are of such a grain, that they
will split otherwise. The joinings of the under course
must be covered by the solid of the next course all the
way up; and the utmost care must be taken that there
be no vacuity left in the wall, for the weight will most
certainly crush it in. The less mortar there is in a
foundation, the better. Its use is to cement the bricks
and stones together; and the evener they are, the less
will be required for that purpose. Where mortar is
used to fill up cavities, it becomes part of the wall ;
and not being of equal strength with the solid mate¬
rials, it takes from the firmness of the building. For
the same reason nothing can be more absurd than to
fill up a foundation with loose stones or bricks thrown
in at random ; and where this is done, the ruin of the
building is inevitable. Where the foundation of a
principal wall is laid upon piles, it will be necessary
also to pile the foundations of the partitions, though not
105 80 Wrongly.
Thickness The thickness of foundation walls in general ought
and dhni- to be double that of the walls which they are to sup-
nut.l.onl®f port. The looser the ground, the thicker the founda-
’ C* tion wall ought to be : and it will require the same ad¬
dition also in proportion of what is to be raised upon
it. The plane of the ground must be perfectly level,
that the weight may press equally everywhere : for
when it inclines more to one side than another, the
wall will split. The foundations must diminish as they
rise, but the perpendicular is to be exactly kept in the
upper and lower parts of the wall; and this caution
ought to be observed all the way up with the same
strictness. In some ground, the foundation may be
arched; which will save materials and labour, at the
same time that the superstructure has an equal security.
This practice is peculiarly serviceable where the foun¬
dation is piled.
As the foundation walls are to diminish in thickness,
>so are those which are built upon them. This is ne-
Part ]
cessary in order to save expence, but is not absolutely Practi^
so to strengthen the wall ; for this would be no less ' \r-»
strong though it was continued all the way to the top . 106
of an equal thickness, provided the perpendicular was^™‘niit
exactly kept. In this the ancients were very expert
for we see, in the remains of their works, walls thus of wallsi
carried up to an exorbitant height. It is to be obser¬
ved, however, that, besides perfect truth in their
perpendiculars, they never grudged ironwork, which
contributed greatly to the strength of their buildings.
The thickness and diminution of walls is in a great
measure arbitrary. In common houses built of brick,
the general diminution from the bottom to the top is
one half the thickness at the bottom ; the beginning is
two bricks, then a brick and a half, and lastly one
brick thickness. In larger edifices, the walls must
be made proportionally thicker; but the diminution
is preserved much in the same manner. Where stones
are used, regard must be had to their nature, and the
propriety of their figures for holding one another.
Where the wall is to be composed of two materials, as
stone and brick, the heaviest ought always to be placed
undermost. I0^
There is one farther particular regarding the strength Angles h|
of a plain wall, and that is, the fortifying its anglesAorhSed. jj
This is best done with good stone on each side, which
gives not only a great deal of strength, but a great
deal of beauty. Pilasters properly applied are a great
strengthening to walls. Their best distance is about
every 20 feet, and they should rise five or six inches
from the naked of the wall. A much slighter wall of
brick with this assistance, is stronger than a heavier
and massier one built plain. In brick w7alls of every
kind, it is also a great addition to their strength to lay
some chief courses of a larger and harder matter; for
these serve like sinews to keep all the rest firmly toge¬
ther, and are of great use where a wall happens to sink I0j
more on one side than another. As the openings in a Window
wall are all weakenings, and as the corners require toimPr0Pe!
be the strongest parts, there should never be a window near t'ic
veiy near a corner. Properly, there should always be i
the breadth of the opening firm to the corner. In
the most perfect way of forming the diminution of
walls, the middle of the thinnest part being directly
over the middle of the thickest, the whole is of a py¬
ramidal form : but where one side of the wall must be
perpendicular and plain, it ought to be the inner, for
the sake of the floors and cross walls. The diminish¬
ed side, in this case, may be covered with a fascia or
cornice, which will at once be a strength and orna¬
ment. IOp I
Along with the construction of walls, that of theChimnejl
chimneys must also be considered ; for errors in the
construction of these, will render the most elegant
building extremely disagreeable. The common causes
of smoking are either that the wind is too much let in
above at the mouth of the shaft, or the smoke is stifled
below ; and sometimes a higher building, or a great
elevation of the ground behind, is the source of the
mischief: or, lastly, the room in which the chimney is
may be so small or close, that there is not a sufficient
current of air to drive up the smoke. Almost all that
can be done, while the walls are constructing, to pre¬
vent smoke, is, to make the chimney vent narrower
at bottom than top : yet this must not be carried to an
extreme;
architecture.
'art II.
ARCHITECTURE.
Yactice
no
>ofs.
XII
>ori.
extreme ; because the smoke will then linger in the
' uppei- part, and all the force of the draught will not
be able to send it up. As for the methods of curing
smoky chimneys in houses already built, see the article
Chimney.
After the walls are finished, the roof is the next
consideration : but concerning it very little can be
said ; only that its weight must be proportioned to the
strength ot the walls. It must also be contrived so as
to press equally upon the building; and the inner
walls must bear their share of the load as well as the
outer ones. A roof ought neither to be too massy nor
too light ; as being necessary for keeping the walls to¬
gether by its pressure, which it is incapable of doing
while too light ; and if too heavy, it is in danger of
throwing them down. Of these two extremes, how¬
ever, the last is to be accounted the worst.
With regard to the floors, they axe most commonly
made of wood ; in which case it will be necessary that
it should be well seasoned by being kept a considerable
time before it is used. The floors of the same story
should be all perfectly on a level: not even a threshold
rising above the rest; and if in any part there is a room
or closet whose floor is not perfectly level, it ought not
to be left so, but raised to an equality with the rest ;
what is wanting of the true floor being supplied by a
false one.
In mean houses, the flooi’s may be made of clay, ox
blood, and a moderate portion of sharp sand. These
three ingredients, beaten thoroughly together and well
spread, make a fii'm good floor, and of a beautiful co¬
lour. In elegant houses, the floors of this kind are
made of plaster of Paris, beaten and sifted, and mixed
with other ingi'edients. This may be coloured to any
hue by the addition of proper substances ; and, when
well worked and laid, makes a very beautiful floor.
Besides these, halls, and some other gi’ound rooms,
are paved or floored with marble or stone ; and this ei¬
ther plain or dotted, or of a variety of colours; but
the universal practice of carpeting has, in a great mea¬
sure, set aside the bestowing any ornamental workman¬
ship upon floors. In country buildings, also, floors
are frequently made of bricks and tiles. These, ac¬
cording to their shapes, may be laid in a variety
of figures; and they are also capable of some variation
in colour, according to the nature of the earth from
which they were made. They may be laid at any
time; but for those of earth or plaster, they are best
, made in the beginning of summer, for the sake of their
drying.
Chap. III. Of the Distribution of the Apartments of
Houses, •with other conveniences.
As houses are built only for the sake of their inha¬
bitants, the distribution of the apartments must of ne¬
cessity be directed by the way of life in which the in¬
habitants are engaged. In the country, this is com-
u monly farming; and here, besides the house for the
‘ of a family, there is also necessary a barn for the reception
ai liouse. of the produce of the ground, a stable for cattle, a
cart-house for keeping the utensils under cover, and
sheds for other uses.—To accomplish these purposes,
let a piece of ground be taken of five times the extent
of the front of the house, and enclosed in the least ex-
Vol. II. Part II. ' f
pensive manner. Back in the centre of this let the
house be placed, and in the front ot the ground the
barn and the stable, with the adjoining sheds. These
are to be set one on each side, to the extreme measure
of the enclosed ground; they will thus fill up a part
ol the entrance, and will leave all about the house
some enclosed ground by way of yai’d. From the barn
to the stable may be extended a fence with a gate in
the middle, and this gate ought to front the door of
the house.
This much being settled, the plan of the house and
out buildings may be made as follows. The door may
open into a plain brick passage, at the end of which
may be carried up a small staircase. On one side of
the passage may be a common kitchen ; and on the
other side a better or larger room, which will serve the
family by way ot parlour. Beyond this may stand on
one side the pantry, and on the other the dairy room,
the last being twice the size of the former. They are
placed on the same side with the parlour, on account
of the heat of the kitchen, which renders it improper
to be near them. On the kitchen side, a brewhouse
may very conveniently be placed. More rooms may
be added on the ground floor as occasion requires ; and
the upper story is to be divided into bedchambers for
the family, with garrets over them for the servants.—
A house of this kind is represented Plate LIII. fig. i.;
and one of a somewhat better kind, fig. 2. where a
private gentleman who has a small family may find
conveniency.
On Plate LIV . is represented a gentleman’s country- Of an ele-
seat, built on a more elegant plan. Here the front ^ant coim-
may extend 65 feet in length, the depth in the centre1^ seat•
being 40 feet, and in each of the wings 45. The of¬
fices may be disposed in wings ; the kitchen in the
one, and the stables in the other ; both of which, how¬
ever, may correspond in their front with the rest of
the building, which they ought also to do with one
another. These wings may have a projection of 13
feet from the dwelling house, to which they ought to
be connected, not by straight lines, but by curves as
represented fig. 2.
The best proportion of these offices to a house ex¬
tending 65 feet in front, is 35 feet. If they are smal¬
ler, the house will look gigantic; if larger, they will
lessen its aspect. To a front of 35 feet, a depth of 48
is a very good proportion. There ought also to be a
covered communication between the dwelling house
and offices, which must not appear only to be a plain
blank wall, but must be ornamented with gates, as in
the figure. The arch by which the offiqes are joined
to the dwelling house must be proportioned to the ex¬
tent of the buildings ; and there cannot be a better
proportion than five feet within the angles of the build¬
ings. By this means the wings, which have only a
projection of 13 feet, will appear to have one of 18,
and the light will be agreeably broken.
With regard to the internal distribution of a house
of this kind, the under story may be conveniently di¬
vided into three rooms. The hall, which is in the
centre, will occupy the whole of the projecting part,
having a room on each side. The length of the hall
must be 24 feet and its breadth 12: the rooms on
each side of it must be 16 feet long, and 11 wide. Of
these two front rooms, that on the right hand may be
4 E conveniently
5S6
Practice, conveniently made a waiting room for persons of better
v rank, and that on the left hand a dressing room for
the master of the house. Behind the hall may run a
passage of four feet and a half, leading to the apart¬
ments in the hinder part of the house and the stair¬
case. These may be disposed as follows : Directly
behind the hall and this passage the space may be oc¬
cupied by a saloon, whose length is 23 feet and its
breadth 17. On the left hand of the passage, behind
the hall, is to be placed the grand staircase; and as
it will not fill the whole depth, a pleasant common
parlour may terminate on that side of the house. On
the other side, the passage is to lead to the door of
the great dining parlour, which may occupy the whole
114 space.
Another. A plan of a house of the same kind, but somewhat
different in the distribution, is represented below in
the same plate. The front here extends 68 feet, and
the wings project 28 feet; their depth is 48, and their
breadth 36. The hall may be 26 feet long and 17 broad.
On the left hand of the hall may be a waiting room
16 feet long and 10 broad j behind which may be a
handsome dining room. The passage into this waiting
room should be at the lower end of the hall 5 and it
must have another opening into the room behind it.
On the right hand of the hall is the place of the great
staircase, for which a breadth of 16 feet three inches
is to be allowed. In the centre of the building, be¬
hind the hall, may be a drawing room 26 feet long
and 16 broad j and behind the staircase will be room
for a common parlour of 16 feet square. The passage
of communication between the house and wings may
be formed into colonnades in a cheap manner behind :
a flight of steps, raised with a sweep, occupying the
centre of each, and leading up to a door, and the co¬
vering being no more than a shed supported by the
plainest and cheapest columns.
The two wings now remain to be disposed of. That
on the right hand may contain the kitchen, and offices
belonging to it, and the other the stables. The front
of the right-hand wing may be occupied by a kitchen
entirely, which will then be 30 feet long and i6i
wide : or it may be made smaller by setting off a small
room to the right. Twenty-two feet by 16 will then
be a good bigness. The other room will then have the
same depth of 16 feet, and the width to the front may
be 74. Beyond the kitchen may stand the staircase,
for which 74- feet will be a proper allowance $ and
to the right of this may be a scullery 12 feet 10
inches deep from the back front by seven in breadth.
To the left of the stair may be a servants hall 16 feet
square, and behind that a larder 12 feet 10 by 14 feet
6. In the centre of the other wing may be a double
coach-house: for which there should he allowed the whole
breadth of the wing, with 10 feet 6 inches in the
clear ; and on each side of this may be the stables.
The external decorations of the front and wings will he
better understood from the figure than they can be by
any description.
Of the eari *>late 'LV' sllows tlle P1an antl elevation of the house
ofWemyss’s earl of Wemyss at Newmills, The propor-
bouse. tions of the rooms are marked in the plan ; and the
front, being decorated with columns of the Ionic or¬
der, will sufficiently show in what manner any of the
Fart I
five orders may be introduced with propriety and ele- practjC{
gance. ^ —y—
Chap. IV. Of Aquatic Buildings.
1. Of Bridges.
These are constructed either of wood or stone ; of 116
which the last are evidently the strongest and most du¬
rable, and therefore, in all cases, to be preferred where
the expence of erecting them can be borne. The pro¬
per situation for them is easily known, and requires no
explanation •, the only thing to be observed is, to make
them cross the stream at right angles, for the sake of
boats that pass through the arches with the current of
the river ; and to prevent the continual striking of the
stream against the piers, which in a long course may
endanger their being damaged and destroyed in the
end.
Bridges built for a communication of high roads,
ought to be so strong and substantial as to be proof
against all accidents that may happen, to have a free
entrance for carriages, afford an easy passage to the
waters, and be properly adapted for navigation, if the
river admits of it. Therefore the bridge ought to be
at least as long as the river is wide in the time of its
greatest flood 3 because the stopping of the waters above
rnay cause too great a fall, which may prove danger¬
ous to the vessels, and occasion the under gravelling
the foundation of the piers and abutments 3 or, by re¬
ducing the passage of the water too much in time of
a great flood, it might break through the banks of the
river, and overflow the adjacent country, which would
cause very great damages 3 or if this should not hap¬
pen, the water might rise above the arches, and en¬
danger the bridge to he overset, as has happened in
many places.
When the length of the bridge is equal to the breadth
of the river, which is commonly the case, the current is
lessened by the space taken up by the piers 3 for which
reason this thickness should be no more than is necessa¬
ry to support the arches 3 and it depends, as well as that
of the abutments, on the width of the arches, their
thickness, and the height of the piers.
The form of the arch is commonly semicircular 3 but Properfo
when they are of any great width, they are made ellip-of arches i
tical, because they would otherwise become too high.
This has been done at the Pont Koyai at Paris, where
the middle arch is 75 feet, and its height would have
been 37.5 feet, instead of which it is only 24 by being
made elliptical.
Another advantage of much more importance arises
from the oval figure, which is, that the quantity of ma¬
sonry of the arches is reduced in the same proportion as
the radius of the arch is to its height. That is, if the
radius is 36 feet, and the height of the arch 24, or
three-fourths of the radius, the quantity of masonry of
the arches is likewise reduced to three-fourths 3 which
must lessen the expence of the bridge considerably. Not¬
withstanding these advantages, however, the latest ex¬
periments have determined segments of circles to be pre¬
ferable to curves of any other kind 5 and of these the
semicircle is undoubtedly the best, as pressing most per¬
pendicularly on the piers.
ARCHITECTURE.
When
Vactice.
n8
lickness
'art II. A R C H I T
When the height of the piers is about six feet, and
the arches are circular, experience has shown, says Mr
Belidor, that it is sufficient to make the thickness of
the piers the sixth part of the width of the arch, and
two feet more ; that is, the thickness of the piers of an
arch of 36 feet, ought to be eight feet j those of an
arch of 48 feet, to be 10.
When the arches are of a great width, the thickness
the piers, of the piers may be reduced to the sixth part of that
width ; but the depression of the two feet is not done
at once that is, in an arch of above 48 feet, 3 inches
are taken olf for every 6 feet of increase of the width
of the arch. For instance, the thickness of the piers
supporting an arch of 72 feet wide, should be 14 feet,
according to the preceding rule ; but by taking oft’
3 inches for every 6 feet, above an arch of 48 wide,
the thickness of the piers is reduced to 13 feet; con¬
sequently, by following the same rule, the thickness of
the piers supporting an arch of 16 fathoms wide, will
be 16 feet •, all the others above that width are the
sixth part of the width.
After this, Mr Belidor gives a rule for finding the
thickness of the piers which support elliptic arches,
and makes them stronger than the former j the abut¬
ments he makes one-sixth part more than the piers of
the largest arch. But it is plain that these rules are
insufficient, being merely guess-work, determined from
some works that have been executed.
The thickness of the arch-stones is not to be deter¬
mined by theory, nor do those authors who have writ¬
ten on the subject agree amongst themselves. Mr Gau¬
tier, an experienced engineer, in his works, makes the
length of the arch-stones, of an arch 24 feet wide, two
feet; of an arch 45, 60, 75, 90 wide, to be 3, 4, 5,
6, feet long respectively, when they are hard and du¬
rable, and something longer when they are of a soft na¬
ture : on the contrary, Mr Belidor says, they ought to
be always one twenty-fourth part of the width of the
arch, whether the stones be hard or soft ; because, if
they are soft, they weigh not so much.
But that the length of the arch-stones should be hut
a foot in an arch of 24 feet wide, 2, 3, 4, in arches of
48, 72, 96 feet, seems incredible ; because the great
weight of the arches would crush them to pieces, by
the pressure against one another : and therefore Mr
Gautier’s rule appears preferable. As he made the
length of the arch-stones to increase in a slower pro¬
portion, from 10 to 45 feet wide, than in those above
that width, we imagine that the latter will be sufficient
for all widths, whether they are great or little 5 there¬
fore we shall suppose the length of the arch-stones of 30
feet in width to be two feet, and to increase one foot in
15 ; that is, 3 feet in an arch of 45 feet; 4, 5, 6, in
an arch of 60, 75, and 90 feet} and so the rest in the
same proportion.
119
the
:h-
nes.
E C T U R E.
Table containing the thickness of piers of bridges.
4-574
5-490
6..186
7.258
8.404
8.965
9.805
10.640
11.400
12.265
13.214
14.000
14-747
I5-5I3 16.328
15
4.918
5-9I3
6.8x6
7.786
8.691
9-579
10.454
x 1.245
13-025
13.869
14-705
i5-54a
16.373 I7-aox
7.184 17.826
5-165 ! 5-350
6.216 j 6.455
7.225 7.5x3
5-49»
6.645
7.746
8.200 8.532
9.148 9.523
10.077
10.987
11.882
12.718
13.648
14.517
I5-336
16.234
17.041
17.929
10.489
u-435
12.364
13.281
14.185
15.049
I5-965
16.842
17.674
18.578
100 17.991 I18.848 19.610 20.293 20.908 21.466 21976J
8.807
9-835
10.837
11.817
13.019
i3-7a3
14.654
15-573
16.480
17.381
18.237
19-157
8.772 19.438 20.036 20.577 21.068
24
5.610
6.801
7-939
9-037
11.136
12.146
I3-I49
14.109
15.082
16.011
16.940
17.864
18.742
19.679
5-698
7-930
8.102
9-233
10.328
n-394
12.434
13.218
14.314
I5-433
16.400
17-354
18.298
19.198
20.152
The first horizontal line expresses the height of the Explaua-
piers in feet, from 6 to 24 feet, each increasing by bon of the
three; the first vertical column, the width of arches
from 20 to 100 feet, for every five feet.
The other columns express the thickness of piers in
feet and decimals, according to the respective height
at the head of the column, and the width of the arch
against it in the first column.
Thus, for example, let the width of the arch be 60
feet, and the height of the piers 12; then the number
12.718, under 12, and against 60, expresses the thick¬
ness of the piers, that is 12 feet and 8.6 inches : we
must observe again, that the length of the key-stone is
two feet in an arch of 30 feet wide ; 3, 4, 5, 6, in an
arch of 45, 60, 75, 90 ; that of 20 feet wide, one foot
four inches ; and the length of any other width is found
by adding four inches for every five feet in width.
As this table contains the thicknesses of piers in re¬
spect to arches that are commonly used in practice, we
imagined, that to carry it farther would he needless ;
because the difference between the thickness of the
piers of any contiguous arches being hut small, those
between any two marked here, may he made equal to
half the sum of the next belowr and above it : thus the
thickness of the piers of an arch 52 or 53 feet wide is
nearly equal to 10.222, half the sum of the thicknesses
9.085 and 10.64 ^ie arches 50 and 55 feet wide
when the height of the piers is six feet. I2I
Rectangular piers are seldom used but in bridges Form <tf
over small rivers. In all others tiiey project the bridge piers,
bv a triangular prism, which presents an edge to the
stream, in order to divide the water more easily, and to
4 E 2 prevent
588
Practice.
xii
Slope of
the bridge
on each
side.
A R C H I T
prevent the ice from sheltering there, as well as vessels
from running foul against them : the edge is termi»
nated by the adjacent surfaces at right angles to each
other at Westminster bridge, and makes an acute angle
at the Pont Royal of about 60 degrees •, but of late the
French terminate this angle by two cylindric surfaces,
whose bases are arcs of 60 degrees, in all their new
bridges.
When the banks of the rivers are pretty high, the
bridge is made quite level above, and all the arches of
an equal width ; but where they are low, or for the
sake of navigation, a large arch is made in the middle
of the stream, then the bridge is made higher in the
middle than at the ends : in this case, the slope must
be made easy and gradual on both sides, so as to form
above one continued curve line, otherwise it appears
disagreeable to the eye. Mr Belidor will have the
descent of that slope to be one twenty-fourth part of
the length •, but this is undoubtedly too much, as one-
fiftieth part of the length is quite sufficient for the de-
scent.
Width, 8tc. The width commonly allowed to small bridges is 30
feet : but in large ones near great towns, these 30 feet
are allowed clear for horses and carriages, besides a ban¬
quette at each side for foot passengers of 6 to 9 feet each,
raised about a foot above the common road j the para¬
pet walls on each side are about 18 inches thick, and
4 feet high 5 they generally project the bridge with a
cornice underneath : sometimes ballustrades of stone or
iron are placed upon the parapet, as at Westminster
but this is only practised where a bridge of a great
length is made near the capital of a country.
The ends of bridges open from the middle of the two
large arches with two wings, making an angle of 45
degrees with the rest, in order to make their entrance
more free and easy : these wings are supported by the
same arches of the bridge next to them, being conti¬
nued in the manner of an arch, of which one pier is
much longer than the other.
I24
Methods of ^-s the laying the foundation of the piers is the most
laying the difficult part of the whole work, it is necessary we
foundation, should begin with an easy case, that is, when the depth
of the water does not exceed 6 or 8 feet ; and then
proceed to those which may happen in a greater depth
of water.
Uy batar- ^ne °*' ^ie hutments, with the adjacent piers, is en-
deaus. closed by a dyke called batardeau by the French, of a
sufficient width for the work, and. room for the work¬
men. This batardeau is made by driving a double row
of piles, whose .distance is equal to the depth of water,
and the piles in each row are 3 feet from each other :
they are fastened together on the outside by bonds of
6 by 4 inches : this being done, frames of about 9
feet wide are placed on the inside to receive the boards
which are to form the enclosure : the two uprights of
these frames are two boards of an inch and a half thick,
sharpened below to be driven into the ground, and fast¬
ened together by double bonds, one below and the other
above, each separated by the thickness of the uprights 5
these bonds serve to slide the boards between : ^after
these frames have been driven into the ground as hard
’ can be, then the boards themselves are likewise dri¬
ven in till they reach the firm ground underneath.
2
How the work is to be carried on.
E C T U R E. Part
Between every two piles tie-beams are fastened to pracl;c
the bonds of the piles, to fasten the inside wall to the y-
outside one ; these tie-beams are let into the bonds and
bolted to the adjacent piles: this being done, the bot¬
tom is cleared from the loose sand and gravel, by a ma¬
chine like those used by ballast-beavers j and then well
prepared clay is rammed into the coffer very tight and
firm, to prevent the water from oozing through.
Sometimes these enclosures are made with piles only
driven close to each other 5 at others, the piles are
notched or dove-tailed one into the other j but the most
usual method is to dx-ive piles with grooves in them, 5
or 6 feet distant from each other, and boards are let
down between them.
This being done, pumps and other engines are used
to draw the water out of the enclosures, so as to be
quite dry; then the foundation is dug, and the stones
are laid with the usual precautions, observing to keep
some of the engines always standing, in order to draw
out the water that may ooze through the batardeau.
The foundation being cleared, and every thing ready
to begin the work, a course of stones is laid ; the out¬
side all round with the largest stretchers and headers
that can be had, and the inside filled with ashlers well
jointed, the whole laid in terrass mortar: the facings
are crampt together, and set in lead; and some cramps
are also used to fasten the facings with the inside. The
same manner is to be observed throughout all the courses
to the height of low water mark ; after which the fa¬
cings alone are laid in terrass mortar, and the inside
with the best of the common sort. When the founda¬
tion is carried to the height of low water mark, or to
the height where the arches begin, then the shaft or
middle wall is to be carried up nearly to the height of
the arches, and there left standing till all the piers are
finished, in order that the masonry may be sufficiently
dry and settled before the arches are begun. 12(j
As the piers end generally with an Rrch at each end, Proper
it is customary to lay the foundation in the same man-fonn of
ner: which is not so well as to continue the base reet- ^)e ba,ei
angular quite to the ends of the piers, and as high as
low water mark; both because the foundation becomes
then so much broader, and also because the water will
not be able to get under it: for when the current sets
against a flat surface, it drives the sand and mud against
it so as to cover it entirely ; whereas if a sharp edge be
presented to the stream, it carries every thing away,
and exposes the foundation to the continual action of
the water, which in course of time must destroy it.
After the intervals between the arches are filled up
with stones laid in a regular manner without mortar,
and the gravel is laid over them ; two drains or gutters
are to be made lengthwise over the bridge, one on each
side next to the footpath, about six feet wide and a foot
deep ; which being filled with small pebble stones, serve
to carry off the rain water that falls on the bridge, and
to prevent its filtering through the joints of the arches,
as often happens. jjy
The former method of laying the foundation by Method oi
means of batardeaus is very expensive, and often meetsbu'Wing
with great difficulties : for when the depth of water is
with cof¬
fers, as " !
8 feet or more, it is scarcely possible to make the ba-pra’tjse(i;
tardeaus so tight as to prevent the water from oozing Wesimin-
through them ; and in that case the number of engines ster bridgl
required, as well as the hands to work them, becomes
very
'art II.
Jractice. very extensive j and if part of the batardeau should
—^  break by some extraordinary wind or tide, the work¬
men would be exposed to very great danger.
The next and best method therefore is to build with
colFers, when it is practicable, such as were used at
Westminster bridge. Here the height of water was 6
feet at a medium when lowest, and the tide rose about
10 feet at a medium also 5 so that the greatest depth
of water was about 16 feet. At the place where one
of the piers of the middle or great arch was to be,
the workmen began to drive piles of about 13 or 14
inches square, and 34 feet long, shod with iron, so as
to enter into the gravel with more ease, and hooped
above to prevent their splitting in driving them : these
piles were driven as deep as could be done, which was
13 or 14 feet below the surface of the bed of the ri¬
ver, and 7 feet distant from each other, parallel to the
short ends of the pier, and about 30 feet distant from
them : the number of these piles was 34, and their in¬
tent to prevent any vessels or barges from approaching
the work ; and in order to hinder boats from passing
between them, booms were placed so as to rise and fall
with the water.
This being done, the ballast-men began to dig the
foundation under the water of about 6 feet deep, and
3 wider all round than the intended coder was to be,
with an easy slope to prevent the ground from falling
in : in order to prevent the current from washing the
sand into the pit, short-grooved piles were driven be¬
fore the two ends and part of the sides, not above 4
feet higher than low water mark, and about 15 feet
distant from the coffer: between these piles rows of
boards were let into the grooves down to the bed of the
river, and fixed there.
The bottom of the coffer was made of a strong grate,
consisting of two rows of large timbers, the one long¬
ways, and the other crossways, bolted together with
wooden trunnels ten feet wider than the intended foun¬
dation. The sides of the coffer were made with fir tim¬
bers laid horizontally close one over another, pinned
with oaken trunnels, and framed together at the cor¬
ners, excepting at the two salient angles, where they
were secured with proper irons, so that the one half
might be loosened from the other if it should be thought
necessary j these sides were lined on the inside as well
as on the outside with three inch planks placed verti¬
cally ; the thickness of those sides was 18 inches at the
bottom, reduced to 15 above, and they were 16 feet
high ; besides, knee timbers were bolted at the angles,
in order to secure them in the strongest manner. The
sides were fastened to the bottom by 20 pieces of tim¬
ber on the outside, and 18 within, called straps, about
8 inches broad, and 3 or 4 inches thick, reaching and
lapping over the ends of the sides : the lower part of
these straps had one side cut dove-tail fashion, in order
to fit the mortises made near the edge of the bottom
to receive them, and were kept in their places by iron
wedges ; which being drawn out when the sides were
to be taken away, gave liberty to clear the straps from
the mortises.
Before the coffer was launched, the foundation was
examined, in order to know whether it was level ; for
which purpose several gauges were made, each of which
consisted of a stone of about 15 inches square and three
thick, with a wooden pole in the middle of about 18
589
feet long. The foundation being levelled and the cof- Practice
fer fixed directly over the place with cables fastened to -v—
the adjacent piles, the masons laid the first course of
the stones for the foundation within it j which being-
finished, a sluice made in the side was opened near the
time of low water 5 on which the coffer sunk to the
bottom ; and if it did not set level, the sluice was shut,
and the water pumped out, so as to make it float till
such time as the foundation was levelled: then the ma¬
sons crampt the stones of the first course, and laid a se¬
cond ; which being likewise crampt, a third course was
laid : then the sluice being opened again, proper care
was taken that the coffer should settle in its due place.
The stone work being thus raised to within two feet of
the common low water mark, about two hours before
low water the sluice was shut, and the water pumped
out so far as that the masons could lay the next course
of stone, which they continued to do till the water was
risen so high as to make it unsafe to proceed any fur¬
ther : then they left off the work, and opened the sluice
to let in the water. Thus they continued to work
night and day at low water till they had carried their
work some feet higher than the low water mark : af¬
ter this, the sides of the coffer were loosened from the
bottom, which made them float $ and then were carried
ashore to be fixed to another bottom, in order to serve
for the next pier.
It must be observed, that the coffer being no higher
than 16 feet, which is equal to the greatest depth of
water, and the foundation being 6 feet under the bed
of the river ; the coffer was therefore 6 feet under wa¬
ter when the tide was in j but being loaded with three
courses of stones, and well secured with ropes fastened
to the piles, it could not move from its place. By ma¬
king it no higher, much labour and expence were sav¬
ed ; yet it answered the intent fully as well as if it had
been high enough to reach above the highest flood.
The pier being this carried on above low water
mark, the masons finished the rest of it during the in¬
tervals of the tides-in the usual way j and after all the
piers and abutments were finished in a like manner, the
arches were begun and completed as mentioned be¬
fore : the whole bridge was built in about seven years,
without any accidents happening either in the work or
to the workmen, which is seldom the case in works of
this nature. ...
I t may be observed, that all the piers were built Materials
with solid Portland stone, some of which weighed four employed.
tons. The arch stones were likewise of the same sort: -
but the rest of the masonry was finished with Kentish
rag-stones ; and the paths for foot passengers were pa¬
ved with Purbec, which is the hardest stone to be had
in England, excepting Plymouth marble.
This method of building bridges is certainly the ea-Tliisme-
siest and cheapest that can be thought of, but cannot thod some-
be used in many cases : when the foundation is so badtimes.,m'
as not to be depended upon without being piled, or the P1'actIcabIe»
depth of water is very great, with a strong current and
no tide, it cannot then be practised. For if piles are
to be used, it will be next to impossible to cut them oft"
in the same level five or six feet below the bed of the
river, notwithstanding that saws have been invented for
that purpose: because if they are cut off" separately, it
will be a hard matter to do it so nicely that the one
shall not exceed the other in height; and if this is not
done,
ARCHITECTURE.
59°
ARCHITECTURE.
Practice.
130
Russian
method.
131
French
method.
done, the grating or bottom of the coffer will not be
J equally supported, whereby the foundation becomes
precarious : neither can they be cut off altogether $ for
piles are to be driven as far as the bottom of the coffer
extends, w'hich at Westminster bridge was 27 feet; the
saw must have three feet play, which makes the total
length of the saw 30 feet j now, if either the ivater is
deeper than it is there, or the arches are wider, the saw
must still be longer, so that this method is impractica¬
ble in any such cases.
In a great depth of water that has a strong current
and no tide, the coffers must reach above the water,
which makes them very expensive, and unwieldy to
manage, as well as very difficult to be secured in their
places, and kept steady : so that there is no probability
of using them in such a case.
In some cases, where there is a great depth of water,
and the bed of the river is tolerably level, or where it
can be made so by any contrivance, a very strong frame
of timber, about four times as large as the base of the
piers may be let down with stones upon it round the
edges to make it sink: after fixing it level, piles must
be driven about it to keep it in its place; and then the
foundation may be laid in coffers as before, which are
to be kept steady by means of ropes tied to the piles.
This method has frequently been used in Russia 5
and though the bed of the river is not very solid, yet
such a grate, when once well settled with the weight of
the pier upon it, will be as firm as if piles had been
driven under the foundation, but to prevent the water
from gulling under the foundation ; and to secure it
against all accidents, a row of dove-tail piles must be
driven quite round the grating ; this precaution being
taken, the foundation will be as secure as any that can
be made.
The French engineers make use of another method
in raising the foundations of masonry under water;
which is, to drive a row of piles round the intended
place, nearer to, or farther from, each other, according
as the water is more deep or shallow : these piles being
strongly bound together in several places with horizon¬
tal tie-beams, serve to support a row of dove-tail piles
driven within them : when this is done, and all well
secured according to the nature of the situation and cir-
cumstances, they dig the foundation by means of a ma¬
chine with scoops, invented for that purpose, until they
come to a solid bed of gravel or clay ; or if the bed
of the river is of a soft consistence to a great depth, it
is dug only to about six feet, and a grate of timber is
laid upon it, which is well secured with piles driven
into the opposite corners of each square, not minding
whether they exceed the upper surface of the grate
much or little.
Wlien the foundation is thus prepared, they make
a kind of mortar called beton, which consists of twelve
parts of pozolano or Dutch terrass, six of good sand,
nine of unslaked lime, the best that can be had, thir¬
teen of stone splinters not exceeding the bigness of an
egg> and three parts of tile dust, or cinders, or else
scales of iron out of a forge : this being well worked
together must be left standing for about 24 hours, or
till it becomes so hard as not to be separated without a
pick-axe.
This mortar being thus prepared, they throw into
tae cotter r bed of ruble stones, not very large, and
Part
spread them all over the bottom as nearly level as they Practi
can ; they then sink a box full of this hard mortar, bro- ' v-
ken into pieces, till it come within a little of the bot¬
tom ; the box is so contrived as to be overset or turn¬
ed upside down at any depth 5 which being done, the
pieces of mortar soften, and so fill up the vacant spaces
between the stones ; by these means they sink as much
of it as will form a bed of about 12 inches deep all
over ; then they throw in another bed of stone, and
continue alternately to throw one of mortar and one of
stone till the work approaches near the surface of the
water, where it is levelled, and then the rest is finished
with stones in the usual manner.
Mr Belidor says, in the second part of his Hydrau¬
lics, vol. ii. p. 188. that Mr Millet de Montville hav¬
ing filled a coffer containing 27 cubic feet, with mason¬
ry made of this mortar, and sunk it into the sea, it was
there left standing for two months, and when it was
taken out again it was harder than stone itself. ^
We have hitherto mentioned such situations only Impossil
where the ground is of a soft nature j but where it istyofbui
rocky and uneven, all the former methods prove inef-
fectual 5 nor indeed has there yet been anyone pro-insome
posed which can be always used upon such occasions,
especially in a great depth of water. When the wrater
is not so deep but that the unevenness of the rock can
be perceived by the eye, piles strongly shod with iron
may be raised and let fall down, by means of a machine,
upon the higher parts, so as to break them off piece
by piece, till the foundation is tolerably even, especial¬
ly when the rock is not very hard $ which being done
either this or any other way that can be thought of,
a coffer is made without any bottom, which is let dow-n
and well secured, so as not to move from its place i
to make it sink, heavy stones should be fixed on the
outside j then strong mortar and stones must be thrown
into it; and if the foundation is once brought to a le¬
vel, large hewn stones may be let down so as to lie flat
and even : by these means the work may be carried on
quite up to the surface of the water. But when the
water is so deep, or the rock so hard as not to be le¬
velled, the foundation must be sounded, so as to get
nearly the risings and fallings ; then the lower part of
the cofi’er must be cut nearly in the same manner, and
the rest finished as before. It must however be ob¬
served, that we suppose a possibility of sinking a cof¬
fer ; but where this cannot be done, no method that we
know of will answer.
Among the aquatic buildings of the ancients none Trajan’s
appears to have been more magnificent than Trajan’s bridge 01
bridge. Dion Cassius gives the following account of^ie
it : “ Trajan built a bridge over the Danube, whichdeSCn e
in truth one cannot sufficiently admire 5 for though all
the works of Trajan are very magnificent, yet this far
exceeds all the others : the piers were 20 in number,
of square stone : each of them 150 feet high above the
foundation, 60 feet in breadth, and distant from one
another 170 feet. Though the expence of this work
must have been exceeding great, yet it becomes more
extraordinary by the river’s being very rapid, and its
bottom of a soft nature : where the bridge was built,
was the narrowest part of the river thereabout, for in
most others it is double or treble this breadth ; and al¬
though on this account it became so much the deeper
and the more rapid, yet no other place was so suitable
for
art II*
'ractice.
134
ooden
Jges.
for this undertaking. The arches were afterwards
/broken down by Adrian 5 but the piers are still re¬
maining, which seems as it were to testify that there
is nothing which human ingenuity is not able to ef¬
fect.” The whole length then of this bridge was
1590 yards. ; some authors add, that it was built in
one summer, and that Apollodorus of Damascus was
the architect, who left behind him a description of this
great work.
Where stone bridges cannot be erected on account
of the expence, very strong and durable ones may be
constructed of wood: in which case they ought to be
so framed, as that all the parts may press upon one
another like the arch of a stone bridge 5 and thus, in¬
stead of being weakened by great weights passing over
them, they will become the stronger. How this is to
be accomplished, will be better understood from the fi¬
gure at bottom of Plate LIV. which represents a
wooden bridge constructed after this manner, than it
can be by any description.
2. Of Harbours.
I35
nation In these, the first thing to be considered is the situ-
perfor ation $ which may be some large creek or bason of wa-
ixmrs. ter, in or near the place where the harbour is intended
to be made, or at the entrance of a large river, or near
the sea : for a harbour should never be dug entirely out
of dry land, unless upon some extraordinary occasions,
where it is impossible to do otherwise, and yet a har¬
bour is absolutely necessary. When a proper place is
found, before it is fixed upon, it must be considered
whether ships can lie there safe in stormy weather, es¬
pecially when those winds blow which are most danger¬
ous upon that coast; whether there be any hills, rising
ground, or high buildings, that will cover it j in these
cases, the situation is very proper : but if there be no¬
thing already that will cover the ships, it must be
observed whether any covering can be made at a mode¬
rate expence, otherwise it would be useless to build a
harbour there.
The next thing to be considered is, whether there
be a sufficient depth of water for large ships to enter
with safety, and lie there without touching the ground j
and if not, whether the entrance and inside might not
be made deeper at a moderate expence : or, in case a
sufficient depth of water is not to be had for large
ships, whether the harbour would not be useful for
small merchantmen •, for such a one is often of great
advantage, when situated upon a coast much frequent¬
ed by small coasting vessels.
The form of the harbour must be determined in such
a manner, that the ships which come in when it is
stormy weather may lie safe, and so as there may be
sufficient room for as many as pass that way : the
depths of water where the piers are to be built must
be taken at every 10, 15, or 20 feet distance, and
marked upon piles driven here and there, in order
that the workmen may be directed in laying the
. foundation.
terials This being done, it must be considered what kind of
materials are to be used, whether stone, brick, or wood.
When stones are to be had at. a moderate price, they
ought to be preferred, because the work will be much
stronger, more lasting, and need fewer repairs, than if
made with any other materials : but when stones are
3
ARCHITECTURE. 591
scarce, and the expence becomes greater than what is Practice.
allowed for building the harbour, the foundation may
be made of stone as high as low water mark, and the
rest finished with brick. If this manner of building
should still be too expensive, wood must be used 5 that
is, piles are driven as close as it is thought necessary;
which being fastened together by cross bars, and co¬
vered with strong oaken planks, form a kind of coffer,
which is filled with all kinds of stones, chalk, and
shingles. _ ... *37
The manner of laying the foundation in different French rne-
depths of water, and in various soils, requires particu-thod of
lar methods to be followed. When the water is very Adding,
deep, the French throw in a great quantity of stones at
random, so as to form a much larger base than would
be required upon dry land ; this they continue to with¬
in 3 or 4 feet of the surface of the water, where they
lay the stones in a regular manner, till the foundation is
raised above the water : then they lay a great weight
of stones upon it, and let it stand during the winter to
settle ; as likewise to see whether it is firm, and resists
the force of waves and winds : after that, they fi¬
nish the superstructure with large stones in the usual
manner. I3g
As this method requires a great quantity of stones, A prefer-
it can be practised only in places where stones are inable one.
plenty : and therefore the following one is much pre¬
ferable. A coffer is made with dove-tail piles, of about
30 yards long, and as wide as the thickness of the
foundation is to be ; then the ground is dug and level¬
led, and the wall is built with the best mortar.
As soon as the mortar is tolerably dry, those piles
at the end of the wall are drawn out, the side rows are
continued to about 30 yards farther, and the end en¬
closed ; then the foundation is cleared, and the stones
laid as before. But it must be observed, that the end
of the foundation finished is left rough, in order that
the part next to it may incorporate with it in a proper
manner ; but if it is not very dry, it will incline that
way of itself, and bind with the mortar that is thrown
in next to it; this method is continued till the whole
pier is entirely finished.
It must likewise be observed, that the piers are not
made of one continued solid wall ; because in deep wa¬
ter it would be too expensive : for which reason, two
walls are built parallel to each other, and the interval
between them is filled up with shingle, chalk, and stone
As these walls are in danger of being thrust out or
overset by the corps in the middle, together with the
great weight laid at times on the pier, they are tied
or bound together by cross walls at every 30 or 40
yards distance, by which they support each other in a
firm and strong manner.
In a country where there is great plenty of stones,
piles may be driven in as deep as they will go, at about
two or three feet distance; and when the foundation is
sunk and levelled, large stones may be let down, which
will bed themselves : but care must be taken to lay
them close, and so as to have no two joints over each
other ; and when the wall is come within reach, the
stones must be crampt together. j
Another method practised is to build in cofl’ers much Another
after the same manner as has been done in building the method
piers of Westminster bridge ; but as in this case the w»th coffers,
ends of the coffers are left in the wall, and prevent their
joining .
59 2
A R C H I T
Practice.
joining so well as to be water tight, the water that pe¬
netrates through and enters into the corps may occa¬
sion the wall to burst and to tumble down. Another
140
Russian
method-
,I4I
Thickness
of piers.
inconveniency arising from this manner ot‘ building is,
that as there are but few places without worms, which
will destroy wood wherever they can find it j by their
means the water is let into the pier, and consequently
makes the work liable to the same accident as has been
mentioned above.
To prevent these inconveniences, the best method is
to take the wood away, and joggle the ends of the walls
together with large stones, pouring terrass mortar into
the joints ; when this is done, the water between the
two walls may be pumped out, and the void space filled
up with stone and shingle as usual $ or if these joggles
cannot be made water tight, some dove-tail piles must
be driven at each end as close to the wall as can be
done, and a strong sailcloth put on the outside of them,
which, when the water is pumped out, will stick so close
to the piles and wall, that no water can come in. This
method is commonly used in Russia.
The thickness of a pier depends on two considera¬
tions : it ought to be both such as may be able to resist
the shock of the waves in stormy weather ; and also to
be of a sufficient breadth above, that ships may be la¬
den or unladen whenever it is though necessary. Now,
because the specific gravity of sea water is about one
half that of brick, and as 2 to 5 in comparison of
stone ; and since the pressure of stagnated water against
any sui’face is equal to the weight of a prism of water
whose altitude is the length of that surface, and whose
base is a right-angled isosceles triangle, each of the
equal sides being equal to the depth of the water $
therefore a pier built with bricks, whose thickness is
equal to the depth of the water, will weigh about four
times as much as the pressure of the water against it j
and one of stone of the same breadth, about six times
and a quarter as much. Now this is not the force to
be considered, since this pressure is the same within as
without the pier : but it is that force with which the
waves strike against the piers, and that depends on the
weight and velocity of the waves, which can hardly
be determined ; because they vary according to the
difierent depths of water, the distance from the
shore, and according to the tides, winds, and other
causes. Consequently the proper thickness of the
E C T U R E. Part
piers cannot be determined by any other means than prat.t;,
by experience. v
Practitioners suppose, that if the thickness of a pier
is equal to the depth of the water, it is sufficient; but
for a greater security they allow 2, 3, or 4 feet more.
This might probably do, if piers were built with solid
stones crampt together; but as this is hardly ever the
case, and on the contrary, as the inside is filled up with
shingle, chalk, or other loose materials, their rule is
not to be depended upon ; besides it makes the space
above too narrow for lading and unlading the ships,
unless in a great depth of water ; so that it does not ap¬
pear that their method can be followed, excepting in a
very few cases where the water has but very little motion.
When stone can be had, no other materials should be
used, because they being of a larger bulk than brick,
will better resist the waves by their own weight, till
such time as the mortar is grown hard ; for after this
is effected, brick will resist better against the action of
sea water than soft stones.
The wall must be built with terrass mortar from the
bottom to the height of low u'ater mark, and the rest
finished with cinder or tile-dust mortar, which has been
found sufficiently good in those places where the wall
is wet and dry alternately. The upper part of the
pier should be paved with flat hewn stones laid in strong
mortar, in order to prevent any water from penetrat¬
ing into it: iron rings ought also to be fixed here and
there at proper distances, to fasten the ships, and pre¬
vent them from striking against the pier when agitated
by the waves.
Wooden fenders or piles should be driven at the in¬
side close to the wall, and crampt to it with iron, to
prevent the ships from touching them, and from being
worn by the continual motion. Where the sea breaks
against the piers with great violence, breakers should
be made At proper distances ; that is, two rows of piles
are driven nearly at right angles to the piers for the
length of about 12 or 15 feet, and at about 8 or 10
feet distant from each other ; and then another to join
the two former : these piles being covered with planks,
and the inside being filled with shingles and ruble stones,
then the top is paved with stones of about a foot in
length, set longwise to prevent the waves from tearing
them up. This precaution is absolutely necessary where
the water rushes in very strongly.
ARC
Architec¬
ture
Arehitri-
clinus.
. Military Architecture, the same with what is other¬
wise called fortification. See Fortification.
Naval Architecture, the art of building ships. See
Ship-B uilding.
ARCHITRAVE, in Architecture, that part of a
column which lies immediately upon the capital, being
the lowest member of the entablature. See Plate
Over a chimney, this member is called the mantle-
piece; and over doors or windows, the hyperthy-
ARCHITRICLINUS, in antiquity, the master or
director of a feast, charged with the order and eco-
A R C
nomy of it, the covering and uncovering of the tables, Architii
the cdmmand of the servants, and the like. clinus.
The architriclinus was sometimes called servus tricli- Archirau!
niarcha, and by the Greeks Trgoyit/ojj, i. e. prcegustutor,l—'V-
ovforetaster. Potter also takes the architriclinus for
the same with the symposiarcha.
ARCHIVAULT, in Architecture, implies the in¬
terior contour of an arch, or a band adorned with mould¬
ings, running over the faces of the arch-stones, and
bearing upon the imposts. It has only a single face in
the Tuscan order, two faces crowned in the Doric and
Ionic, and the same mouldings as the architrave in the
Corinthian and Composite.
ARCHIVE,
ARCHITEC TURK
PLATE XXXVII.
Fia. 3
■/r E/Wr/’.
Fig.4.
'" <y Yid /i/Atcf n Lr(/■/'.
a
Ac
-H ::=,
//' '/’/•rrt/l • f f.
ARC HITECTURE.
A XO X C API TAL.S.
PLATEXXXVm.
S AX OX ARCH.
SAXON ARCH.
SAXON ARC HKS.
mktiiok of describing
gothic arch.
Gothic arch
from four centers.
Contrasted
Gothic arch.
common
Gothic arch.
. Jri-JribvLZ Srulpi
fi' J rch ibn Id dat/p.
architecture •
PLATE XL
\\. Archibald ocal/'
M
*3-
+4 i
\4l
23
/3
v
1^
J
/O'l
22j
S3.)
//
3')
ARC HITE C TURE.
11 . . I rcfi I h<ll d 3 ■ •
AlU’HITECTURE.
PL A TE XU/.
Ficj- 2.
FILLET LIST
Fu/. 2.
AS TEA GAL
IY</. A.
Foe ls
4.
Scotia Mouth
Eiff. 7-
Ctma Eecta
Fig. 8.
Cavetto
ARC HI T E C T URE.
PLATE xurr.
If.. h'chibald Scu/p!
" " ' ' 1 . . ".   
ARC HIT E C T U R E.
PLATE JCL1V.
Projections. Heights
49'L
4&
16/i
4,3
41
\
40
21
wm
W
7A
7%
2 %
4%
9
3/i
JO
%
T
£
j
\io%
[ 7#
7
p -
\2%
2% V
19
4
a &
7
n%
JL/,
3%
1Ji
0%
OK
-J-K
I 2 K
A
10%
10%
Q7(s
2%
4
4K
1
71/*
TJIE
C OMPOSITE
oniJEJt.
—A
'vX
.70 minutes.
60 -Minutes.
VJ
C
•—^
H \. lrchi/\i/d Sculpt
ARCHITECTURE.
Plants of Pilaster Capitals.
PLATE XLV.
PE D E STALS
ilSVff
»
PLATE XLMl.
,, i
E.MlhU/fiufrr
Architecture.
/'/.. I TE XLIX.
_/?//,/? //1' Tl 'X' J).Lhnt'.v /u/m r
AilCI I IT KCTTJRE,
PLATE L.
Km/im <'<i bv li’A- D Lizarx F.dtnT
ARCHITEC T TOE.
PLA TE LI.
E. Afiic/u //^vn //t /
ARCHITECTURE
PL/LTELIII.
x/sti/i- of 'TAr/
J i  1 , i— i ,  1
10 0 10 20 30 4o 50
Sty 'J
I  1 : ; T-r-^T- '   .     1-  —  
to O W 20 30 -fo
L
AKciriTKCTrn e
/V^ITKJ./V:
vflmmb
Architecture
1‘I. A TE IX.
ARCHITECTURE.
rLATELVI.
Designs for Gates Piers.
\
/
ARC
Arrive
* See the
article At-
ticn.
ARCHIVE, or Archives, a chamber or apartment
wherein the records, charters, and other papers and evi-
Arclwns. dences, of a state, house, or community, are preserved,
■—v—' to be consulted occasionally.
We say, the archives of a college, of a monastery,
&c. The archives of ancient Rome were in the temple
of Saturn ; the archives of the court of chancery are in
the rolls office.
ARCHIVIST, Archivista, a keeper of an ar¬
chive.
Under the emperors, the archivist was an officer of
great dignity, held ec^ual to the proconsuls, vested with
the quality of a count, styled clarissirnus, and exempted
from all public offices and taxes. Among the ancient
Greeks and Persians, the trust was committed to none
but men of the first rank ; among the Franks, the clergy
being the only men of letters, kept the office among
themselves. Since the erection of the electoral college,
the archbishop of Mentz. has had the direction of the
archives of the empire.
ARCHMARSHAL, the grand marshal of the
empire, a dignity belonging to the elector of Sax¬
ony.
ARCHONS, in Grecian antiquity, were magistrates
appointed after the death of Codrus *. They were cho¬
sen from the most illustrious families till the time of
Aristides, who got a law passed, by which it was enact¬
ed, that, in electing these magistrates, less regard
should be paid to birth than to merit.
The tribunal of the archons was composed of nine
officers. The first was properly the archon; by whose
name the year of his administration was distinguished.
The title of the second was king; that of the third,
pole mar c hus; to these were added six thesmothetce.
These magistrates, elected by the scrutiny of beans,
were obliged to prove, before their respective tribes,
that they had sprung, both in their father’s and their
mother’s side, for three descents, from citizens of
Athens. They were likewise to prove that they were
attached to the worship of Apollo, the tutelary god of
their country ; that they had in their house an altar
consecrated to Apollo ; and that they had been re¬
spectfully obedient to their parents j an important and
sacred part of their character, which promised that they
would be faithful servants to their country. They were
likewise to prove, that they had served in a military
capacity the number of years which the republic re¬
quired of every citizen: and this qualification gave
the state experienced officers j for they were not al¬
lowed to quit the army till they were 40 years old.
Their fortune too, of which they were to inform those
before whom they were examined, was a warrant for
their fidelity.
After the commissioners, who were appointed to in¬
quire into their character and other requisites, had
made a report of them, they were then to swear that
they would maintain the laws; which oblig-ation if they
neglected, they engaged to send to Delphi a statue ot
the weight of their bodies. According to a law of So¬
lon, if an archon got drunk, he was condemned to pay
a heavy fine, and sometimes even punished with death.
Such magistrates as the Athenian archons were well
entitled to respect. Hence it was eternal infamy to
insult them ; and hence Demosthenes observed, that
Vol. II. Part II. f
[ 593 ]
ARC
to treat the thesmothetae with disrespect, was to show Arclion*
disrespect to the republic. j|
Another qualification indispensably required of the Archpriest,
second officer of this tribunal, who was called the king, f
was, that he had married the daughter of an Athenian
citizen, and that he had espoused her a virgin. This
was exacted ot him, says Demosthenes, because part of
his duty was to sacrifice to the gods jointly with his
wife, who instead of appeasing, would have irritated
them, it she had not possessed both these honours.
The inquiry into the private title of the nine archons
was very severe ; and this attention was the more ne¬
cessary, as they had a right to take a seat in the Areo¬
pagus, after they had quitted their office, and given an
account of their administration.
When any obscurity occurred in the laws relative to
religion and the worship of the gods, the interpretation
was submitted to the tribunal of the archons.
Aristotle observes, that Solon, whose aim was to make
his people happy, and who found their government in
his time aristocratical, by the election of the nine ar¬
chons, who were annual magistrates, tempered their
power, by establishing the privilege of appealing from
them to the people, called by lot to give their suffrage,
after having taken the oath of the Heliastse, in a place
near the Panathenseum, where Hissus had formerly
calmed a sedition of the people, and bound them to
peace by an oath.
The archons were the principal officers, not only in
civil, but likewise in sacred matters, and especially in
the mysteries of Bacchus. The archons, however, who
were surnamed eponymi, were chiefly employed in civil
affairs; yet they presided at the great feasts, and held
the first rank there. Hence they are sometimes styled
priests.
Archon is also applied by some authors to divers
officers, both civil and religious, under the eastern or
Greek empire. Thus bishops are sometimes called
archontes; and the same may be said of the lords of
the emperor’s court. We also read of the archons of
the antimensia, archon of archons, grand archon, ar¬
chon of churches, archon of the gospel, archon of the
walls, &c.
ARCHONTICI, in church history, a branch ofVa-
lentinians who maintained that the world was not crea¬
ted by God, but by angels called Archontes.
ARCHPRIEST, Archpresbyter, a priest or pres¬
byter established in some dioceses, with a pre-eminence
over the rest. Anciently the archpriest was the first
person after the bishop : he was seated in the church
next after the bishop; and even acted as his vicar, in
his absence, as to all spiritual concerns. In the sixth
century, there were found several archpriests in the same
diocese ; from which time some will have them to have
been called deans. In the ninth century, they distin¬
guished two kinds of cures or parishes : the smaller go¬
verned by simple priests; and the baptismal churches
by archpriests ; who, besides the immediate concern of
the cure, had the inspection of the other inferior priests,
and gave an account of them to the bishop, who go¬
verned the chief or cathedral church, in person. There
are arch presbyters still subsisting in the Greek church ;
vested with most of the functions and privileges of cho-
repiscopi or rural deans^
ARCHTREASURER,
Archtrea-
surer
II
Archytas.
ARC [594
ARCHTREASURER, the great treasurer of the
German empire. This office was created with the
eighth electorate, in favour of the elector Palatine,
who had lost his former electorate, which was given to
the duke of Bavaria, by the emperor Ferdinand II.
who took it away from Frederic V. elector Palatine,
after the battle of Prague, where he was defeated in
maintaining his election to the crown of Bohemia. The
dignity of archtreasurer was contested between the
elector of Brunswick, who claimed it in virtue of his
descent from the elector Frederic, and the elector Pa*
latine.
ARCHILUTE, Arcileuto, a long and large lute,
having its bass strings lengthened after the manner of
the theorbo, and each row doubled, either with a little
octave or an unison. It is used by the Italians for play¬
ing a thorough bass.
ARCHYl'AS of Tarentum, was a Pythagorean
philosopher, and also well skilled in mathematics and
geography. He lived in the time of Plato, and, ac¬
cording to report, interposed his influence with Diony¬
sius the tyrant, in order to save the life of that renown¬
ed philosopher. According to this date, it would ap¬
pear that Jamblichus is mistaken when he asserts, that
he was a hearer of Pythagoras , and the testimony of
a writer mentioned by Photius, would seem more
worthy of credit, that he was the eighth successive pre¬
ceptor of the Pythagorean school. Rut his fame was
not confined to the circle of literature ; for so eminent
were his military talents, that, in opposition to an ex¬
press law of his country, that no man should be chosen
more than once the general of its armies, he was ele¬
vated to that important station no less than seven times.
He adopted the sentiments of Pythagoras ; in his disser¬
tations on speculative philosophy. He taught in mora¬
lity, that there is nothing so destructive to man as plea¬
sure j that in every condition of society, virtue is to be
pursued for its own merit, and that every extreme is
incompatible with virtue. Aristotle was indebted to
Archytas for his general heads of arrangement, en¬
titled his “ Ten Categories,” and very probably for
that principal idea in his Ethics, that virtue consists in
avoiding excesses. By discovering the duplication of
the cube by means of the conic sections, and the me-
tnod of finding two mean proportionals between two
given lines, he displayed his great knowledge in ma¬
thematics. He is reported to have invented several
curious hydraulic machines, and to have made a kind
of winged automaton; and his genius is likewise ho¬
noured with the invention of the screw and crane. In
a beautiful ode, Horace records his sad fate, in being
cast upon the Apulian shore, an unburied corpse ; and
mentions him as an excellent astronomer and geogra-
oher.
]
ARC
Te mams et terrtz numeroque carentis arena
Mensorem cohibent, Archyta,
Pulveres exigui prope litus parva Matinum
Munera : nec quidquam tibiprodest
Bertas tentasse domos, animoque rotundum
Percurrisse polmn, morituro.
Archytas, what avails thy nice survey
Of ocean’s countless, sands, of earth, and sea ?
In vain thy mighty spirit once could soar
To orbs celestial, and their course explore,
a
If here, upon the tempest-beaten strand,
You lie confin’d, till some more liberal hand
Shall strew the pious dust in funeral rite,
And wing thee to the boundless realms of light.
Francis.
Arcis-su
Aube
II
Arctoti;
A singular modesty, and a firm command of his pas¬
sions, were the leading features in his moral character.
In his anger he never chastised any of his servants. He
said one day to a certain dependant who had disobliged
him, “ What should I have done to you if I had not
been angry ?” He maintained a uniform decency not
often observed in ancient writings.
A small treatise, entitled IIig< r» n«vT«f Qvnus, “ On
the Universe,” and some other small fragments, “ On
Wisdom,” and “ On the Good and Happy Man,” are
the only pieces ascribed to this philosopher that are still
extant. -
ARCIS-SUR-AUBE, a small town of France, in
Champagne, now the department of Aube, seated on the
river Aube. E. Long. 4. 15. N. Lat. 48. 40.
ARCO, a strong town and castle in the Tx-entin, be¬
longing to the house of Austria. It was taken by the
French in 1703? and abandoned soon after. It stands
on the river Sarca, near the north extremity of the lake
Garda. E. Long. 10. 48. N. Lat. 45. 52.
ARCONA, a strong town situated on the island of
Rugen in the Baltic. It stood on a high promontory,
with the east, north, and south sides defended by steep
and lofty precipices, and the west by a wall 50 feet
high, proportionably thick, and secured by a deep and
broad ditch. It was, however, taken and ruined, in
1168, by Valdemar king of Denmark. One of the
conditions imposed by the conqueror was, that the inha¬
bitants should destroy a temple they had erected to St
Vitus, and deliver up the vast treasure belonging to this
tutelary saint. Another was, that they should pay 40
silver yokes for oxen, by way of tribute, and enter as
soldiers in the Danish service when called upon.
ARCOS, a strong city of Andalusia in Spain, seated
on a high craggy rock, at the bottom of which runs the
Guadeleto. Its strength lies not only in its situation,
but in the works erected tor its defence, and it is inac¬
cessible on every side but one. The governor resides in
an old castle, from whence there is a delightful prospect,
which extends very far into the neighbouring country,
w. Long. 5. 50. N. Lat. 36. 20.
ARCTIC, in Astronomy, an epithet given to the
north pole, or the pole raised above our horizon. It is
called the arctic pole, on occasion of the constellation of
the little bear, in Greek called ; the last star in
the tail whereof nearly points out the north pole.
Arctic Circle, is a lesser circle of the sphere, parallel
to the equator, and 230 30' distant from the north
pole ; from whence its name. This, and its opposite,
the antarctic, are called the two polar circles ; and may
be conceived to be described by the motion of the poles
of the ecliptic, round the poles of the equator, or of the
world.
ARCTIUM, Burdock. See Botany Index.
ARCTOPH FLAX, (from bear, and
1a>, 1 guard'), in Astronomy, a constellation, otherwise,
called Bootes.
ARCTOPUS, See Botany Index.
ARCTOTIS. See Botany Index.
ARCTURUS,
A R D
Arcturos ARCTURUS, in Astronomy, a fixed star, of the
|| first magnitude, in the constellation Arctophylax, or
Ardebil. Bootes. The word is formed of agjeroj, bear, and
~ T ' ' tail, q. d. bear's tail, as being very near it. This
star was known to the ancients, as in the following
verse of Virgil :
Arcturnm, pluviasque Hyades, geminasque Triones.
See also Job ix. 9. xxxviii. 32.
ARCUATION, in Gardening, the method of raising
trees by layers, which is done in the following manner.
Strong mother plants or stools must be planted in a
clear border, and in a straight line, about six feet
asunder. When these have shot five or six main branches
from the roots, and as many collateral branches, the
former must be bent to the ground, and there fastened.
The small branches must be covered three inches deep
upon the joints, and have a large bason of earth made
round them to hold the water. About the middle of
September they may be opened, and if they have taken
root, may be immediately removed into the nursery $
but if they have not sufficiently extended their roots,
they must be suffered to remain till the spring, and then
transplanted.
ARCUCCIO, Arcutio, a machine made of a board,
covered with pieces of hoops, like the tilt of a waggon :
used in Italy to prevent children from being overlaid
and smothered by nurses or others. Every nurse in
Florence is obliged to lay her child in an arcutio, under
pain of excommunication.
ARCY, Patrick d’, a writer on military affairs.
See Supplement.
ARDAMON, or Ardama, in antiquity, a vessel
of water placed at the. door of a person deceased, till
the time of burial, as a token that the family was in
mourning, and to serve to sprinkle and purify persons
as they came out of the house.
ARDASSES, in Commerce, the coarsest of all the
silks of Persia; and as it were the refuse of each kind.
In this sense, they say, the legis, the housets, the choufs,
and the pay as ardasses, to signify the worst of those
four sorts of Persian silks.
ARDASSINES, in Commerce, called in France
ablaques; a very fine sort of Persian silks, little inferior
in fineness to the sourbastis, or rather cherbassis, and
yet it is little used in the silk manufactures of Lyons
and Tours, because that kind of silk ^ill not bear hot
water in the winding.
ARDEA, the crane. See Ornithology Index.
Ardea, in Ancient Geography, a town of Latium,
the royal residence of Turnus king of the Rutuli,
(Livy) ; so called, either from the augury of the heron,
(Hyginus) j or from the excessive heat of the country,
(Martial). It was in a marshy, sickly situation, (Stra¬
bo, Seneca). It was built by Danae, the mother of
Perseus, (Virgil) ; abgve five miles distant from the
sea, and 20 from Rome : now a hamlet. It was a Ro¬
man colony, (Livy) *, the inhabitants called Ardeates.
E. Long. 17. 49. N. Lat. 41. 30.
ARDEBIL, or Ardevil, a town of Persia in the
province of Aderbijan. It was taken and burnt by
Jenghiz Khan, in 1222, when most of the inhabitants
were destroyed : but it has been since rebuilt j and is
still ranked for dignity among the best cities of the
kingdom, on account of its having been the residence
ARD
and burying-place of some of the Persian kings; par- Aidebil
ticularly the sepulchre of Sheik Sefi is at this place, ||
to which the people resort in pilgrimage. He founded Arden,
a place, which they call his kitchen, with a revenue
sufficient to maintain ioco poor people, and to feed
them three times a-day. Three or four of the largest
principal streets have shops, and are planted on each
side with elms and linden trees, to keep off the exces¬
sive heat of the sun ; but the houses are poorly built,
with bricks dried in the sun : yet most of them, that
are not in the bazars or market places, have the plea¬
sure and conveniency of a garden full of trees bearing
fruit j and there are large spots in the out parts of the
town, where the houses are at a distance from each
other, and the spaces between planted with trees, which
render the city of a large extent.
Through the city there pass two branches of a rivu¬
let, which are sometimes enlarged by the melting of
the snow on the mountains, so that they have been
forced to make canals to divert the stream. In the
reign of Shah Abbas, it broke down the dikes and
carried away a great number of houses. The city is
without walls, and is seated in the midst of a large
plain encompassed with mountains, the highest of which
lies westward, and is always covered with snow. These
render the air sometimes extremely hot, and at others
intolerably cold, which occasions epidemical distempers,
that carry off great numbers of people. The soil pro¬
duces no fruit near the city but apples, pears, and
peaches; and yet is good both for corn and pasture.
The sheep are so numerous, that 100,000 have passed
over the city bridge in a day. There are here several
sorts of mineral waters, which serve both for common
bathing, and for the cure of various diseases 5 one of
these is a sulphureous spring, whose exhalations render
the circumambient air extremely disagreeable. There
are three springs which produce water as hot as if it
was boiling ; and from which, waters are conveyed to
the public baths in the city. About half a league from
the city, on the right hand of the public road, there is
a pool of standing water, which is covered all over with
salt like ice. E. Long. 47. 30. N. Lat. 37. 55.
ARDECHE, a department in the south-east of
France, which derives its name from a river, and com¬
prehends part of Dauphiny. The eastern part is fertile,
the western ralher hilly. Besides the common species
of grain, vines and silk are cultivated. There are
some manufactures of silks, woollens, leather, &c. The
department contains 550,004 hectares 5 and in 1816 it
had a population of 284,743.
ARDEN, the common name of forests among the
Celtse, from the widely extensive one which ranged for
500 miles across the country of Gaul, or that which
covered more than half the county of Warwick in Bri¬
tain, and the sites of which still retain the appellation
of Arden, to the much smaller one of the ancient Man-
cenion, that covered and surrounded the site of the
present Manchester. It is written Arduen by Caesar and
Tacitus in speaking of the forest in Gaul, and Ardven
by Ossian in mentioning the woods of Caledonia. It
cannot (says Mr Wintaker) be compounded of ar the
prepositive article in Celtic, and the substantive den, as
Baxter and Camden assert it to be 5 but is formed of
ard an adjective, and ven the same as den. The mean¬
ing of the name therefore is not, as Mr Baxter renders
[ 595 ]
A R D [5
it, simply the hills, or even, as the ingenious translator
of Ossian interprets it, the high hill. Ard signifies ei¬
ther high or great, and ven or den either a hill or
wood. Arduen, Ardven, or Arden, then, means a con¬
siderable wood. Hence, only, the name became ap¬
plicable to such very different sites, as the plains of
Warwickshire and the kills of Scotland : and it was
given, not only to the most extensive forests, to that
which was the greatest in Gaul, or so considerable in
Britain j but *to many that were important only with¬
in their own contracted dUtricts, as the wood of Man-
cenion above mentioned, and others.
ARDENBURG, a town of the Netherlands, in
Dutch Flanders, and formerly the most considerable in
that country; but it has been dismantled by the Dutch.
E. Long. 3. 30. N. Lat. 51. 16.
ARDENNE, a forest in France, formerly of vast
extent ; but the trees are in many places grubbed up,
and w'here they stood are built cities, towns, and ab¬
beys. At present it extends from Thionville, near the
country of Liege, to Doncherry and Sedan, on the con¬
fines of Champagne.
ARDENNES, a department of France, which com¬
prehends part of Champagne, and takes its name from
the forest. In the north it is covered in many parts with
wood; in the south, vines are raised. The most com¬
mon produce over the whole is rye. It has mines of
iron, coal, slate, and quarries of marble. Its manufac¬
tures of cloth are much celebrated. It contains 1,029,189
acres, and 346,000 inhabitants.
ARDENTES, in middle-age writers, an appella¬
tion given to those afflicted with the ignis sacer, or
erysipelas. They were thus called, as seeming to be
scorched or burned with the disease. Hence also the
abbey of St Genevieve at Paris is called .Dowz/s Arden-
tium, by reason, as it is said, that great numbers were
cured of that distemper at the shrine of this saint, in
the reign of Louis VI.
ARDES, a town of France, in Lower Auvergne,
and now in the department of Puy de Dome. It
serves as a mart for the commodities and trade between
Upper and Lower Auvergne. E. Long. 3. 10. N. Lat.
45. 22.
ARDFERT, a town of Ireland, was the ancient
capital of Kerry, with an university, which was held in
the highest esteem. It is a bishop’s see, and borough
by ancient prescription, and has been held in commen-
dam with the bishopric of Limeric ever since the Re¬
storation. The bishops were anciently called Bishops
of Kerry. St Brandon, to whom the cathedral is de¬
dicated, had his first education in this county, under
Bishop Ert; but he finished his studies in Connaught,
St Jarlath bishop of Tuam being his preceptor. The ruins
here are very extensive. Near the cathedral was an
anchorite tower, the loftiest and finest in the kingdom,
being 120 feet high : it fell suddenly in 1771. In the
ruined churches there are several inscriptions round the
mouldings of the tombstones ; and over an arch, be¬
hind Lord Glandore’s house, is an inscription in relief
done in a masterly manner, but the characters unknown.
ARDRAH, a small territory or kingdom of Africa,
in Guinea properly so called. It lies at the bottom
of the gulf of St Thomas, and has a town called yfr-
dres, supposed to be the capital. The inhabitants are
very licentious, and have neither temple nor any place
2
96 ] . ARE
for religious worship. However they are very courage- Ard is I
ous; and their king was absolute, till lately that the II
king of Dahomy made war upon this and the neigh-, Arela
bouring territories, brought them under subjection, and
burnt the towns, particularly Ardres. The air is very
unwholesome to Europeans: yet the natives live to a
great age ; but the smallpox makes great destruction
among them. This country is fertile in Indian corn,
palm wine, plants, and fruits, which last all the year ;
and they make a great deal of salt.
ARDRES, a town of France, in Lower Picardy,
now the department of the Straits of Calais. Here was
an interview between Francis I. and Henry VIII.
king of England in 1520. It is seated in the midst of
a morass, eight miles south of Calais. - E. Long 2. o.
N. Lat. 50. 35.
ARDS, Barony of, in the county of Down in Ire¬
land : it is a narrow slip of land, in some places three
and in none above six miles broad ; but the soil is for
the most part tolerably good. It lies between the lake
of Strangford and the sea, and in the south part it is
opposite to Lecale. Sir Thomas Smith obtained a pa¬
tent for this barony from Queen Elizabeth, and sent his
natural son with a colony to possess it; but he was in¬
tercepted and slain by an Irishman. After Sir Thomas’s
death, Ards was granted by James I. to some of the
Scots nobility.
ARDUBA, an ancient city of the Pannonians. It
was taken by Germanicus about the 7th year of the
Christian aera; but its reduction wras more owing to the
disagreement that reigned among the inhabitants than
to the valour of the Romans. The greater part of the
citizens were for submitting; but the women, more fond
of their ancient laws and liberties than the men, join¬
ed some Roman deserters, and falling upon their hus¬
bands, killed a great number of them : but being at
last overcome by the men, who then submitted to the
Romans, the women either threw themselves headlong
from the tops of the walls, or, setting fire to their
houses, burnt themselves and their children to death.
AREA, in general, denotes any plain surface, where¬
on we walk, &c. The word is Latin, importing more
properly a threshing floor; and is derived from arere
“ to be dry.”
Area, in Architecture, denotes the space or site of
ground on which an edifice stands. It is also used for
inner courts anj) those portions of ground.
Area, in Geometry, denotes the superficial content
of any figure. Thus, if a figure, e. g. a field, be in
form of a square, and its side be 40 feet long, its area
is said to be 1600 square feet ; or it contains 1600
little squares, each a foot every way.
AREB, a kind of imaginary money used in the do¬
minions of the Great Mogul. Four arehs are equal to
one crow, or 100 lacs ; one lac to 100,000 roupees.
AREBO, or Arebon, a town on the Slave coast of
Guinea, in Africa, seated at the mouth of the river
Formosa. The English had once a factory there, as
the Dutch have still. It is a large oblong place, indif¬
ferently well peopled, and furnished with houses built
of reeds and leaves. E. Long. 5. 5. N. Lat. 5. o.
ARECA, the Fausel-nut. See Botany Index.
ARELATE, or Arelatum, is a town of Gallia
Narbonensis, situated on the Rhone, denoting a town
on, or beyond, a marsh, according to the particular
situation
ARE [ 597 ] ARE
•elate situation of the speaker ; called Arelate Sextanorum
|j (Pliny, Mela, Coin), because it had a colony of the
opagus. sixth legion. Writers of the lower age call it Arelas,
-atis, (Prudentius, Ausonius). There was a double
Arelas, one on each side of the river, and joined by a
bridge, (Ausonius) $ that on the left side is thought to
have been built by Constantine. Tiberius’s father was
sent by Julius Caesar at the head of the colony, (Sueto¬
nius) ; and hence the appellation Julia Paterna, as ap¬
pears from an inscription. It was a favourite place of
the Romans, and greatly ornamented 5 and hence called
Gallula Roma, (Ausonius). It is now called Arles.
E. Long. 5. 5. N. Lat. 43. 40*
AREMBERG, a small town of Germany, in the
circle of Westphalia, defended by a castle. It is the
capital of a county of the same name, and was erected
into a principality by the emperor Maximilian II. in
favour of John de Ligne, lord of Barbazon, who took
the name of Aremberg. It is seated on the river Aer.
E. Long. 6. 44. N. Lat. 50. 27;
AREMORICA, or Armorica, a part of Gaul, be¬
tween the Sequana and Ligeris, (Caesar, Hirtius) $ de¬
noting a country on, or beyond the sea, ar moer, or are
moer, Celtic. Pliny indeed says, that Aquitania was
formerly called Aremorica ; but in this he stands alone.
In the lower age, the term Armorica was confined to
Bretagne in France.
ARENA, in Roman antiquity, a place where the
gladiators fought \ so called from its being always
strewed with sand, to conceal from the view of the
people the blood spilt in the combat. Nero is said to
have strewed the arena with gold dust.
AREN ARIA, or Sandwort. See Botany In¬
dex.
ARENACUM, or Arenacus, one of the four towns
or larger villages in the island of the Batavi, (Tacitus).
Now Arnheim, in Guelderland. E. Long. 5. 20. N.
Lat. 52. 2.
ARENARII, in antiquity, gladiators who combated
with beasts in the arena or amphitheatre. The arc-narii
were slaves of the lowest rank ; so that, though manu¬
mitted, they were not capable of being Roman citizens.
They were the same with what were otherwise called
Restiarii.
ARENARIUM, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes
a cemetery or burying ground. The arenaria were
properly a kind of pits, or holes, under ground, where¬
in the ancient Christians not only buried their dead,
hut held their religious assemblies in times of persecu¬
tion.
ARENSBERG, a small town of Germany, in the
circle of Westphalia, upon the river Roer. E. Long.
8. 20. N. Lat. 51. 25.
ARENSBURG, an episcopal and maritime town of
Livonia in Sweden, seated in the isle of Osel, in the
Baltic sea. E. Long. 22. 40. N. Lat. 58. 15.
AREOLA, among anatomists, the coloured circle
surrounding the nipple of the breast.
AREOPAGUS, a sovereign tribunal at Athens, fa¬
mous for the justice and impartiality of its decrees, to
which the gods themselves are said to have submitted
their differences. It was in the town, on a rock or hill
opposite to the citadel. The word signifes strictly,
rock of Mai's.
Plutarch attributes the establishment of the Areo¬
pagus to Solon. Other authors think differently : and Areopagus,
with good reason $ for it appears undeniable, that this —v——
tribunal was instituted before Solon. But the best au¬
thorities allow him the honour of its restoration. The
city of Athens, governed till this time by tribunals of
a circumscribed jurisdiction, which were multiplied by
the most trifling accidents and circumstances, took no
fixed political or civil form, however closely united
the members of those tribunals were by their general
views towards' the public good, and by the common
love of their country. As each of those tribunals could
only act in proportion to the power delegated to it,
it was impossible that so many, difi’erent and unequal
impressions should give to the great machine of the
state that uniform and regular movement which, by
an impulse always the same, would keep each part in
the situation it should maintain with relation to the
whole.,
To effect this universal and harmonious power, it
was necessary to unite the different channels of public
authority, which, by being too much distributed, lost
its force. This authority Solon collected, and placed
it all in the court of Areopagus, which consequently be¬
came the mainspring of the government. The judges
of this court, who, under Draco, decided only in cases
of murder, now took cognizance of crimes of every
kind : and the same tribunal which inflicted capital pu¬
nishment on murder, poisoning, burning of houses, theft,
&.c. struck at the roots of those crimes, by arraigning
idleness, luxury, and debauchery. Equally attentive to
stimulate the indolence of the young, and the languor of
the old, these sage judges roused in the one the laudable
ambition to serve the state, and restored to the others
their former activity. Satisfied that extremes produce /
the same effects, they thought the republic had as much
to fear from the excess of wealth as from the gripe of
poverty. Hence they exacted a minute account of the
effects of every individual. Hence their great severity
to those idle citizens, who, instead of being useful mem¬
bers in a state, are its bane, and its dishonour. Isocrates
draws a most beautiful and striking picture of those ve¬
nerable and astonishing men, and of the order and har¬
mony which flourished in Athens by their wise admini¬
stration.
The judges of the Areopagus, says that author, ^
were more industrious to prevent crimes, by represent¬
ing them in an odious light, than to establish modes of
punishment. It was their opinion, that the enemies of
the state were the instruments destined by the gods to
punish the wicked; but that it was their province to
correct and reform public and private manners. They
were vigilantly attentive to the conduct of all the citi¬
zens, but particularly to that of the youth. They
well knew that the impetuosity of juvenile passion gave
the most violent shocks to health and growing virtue ;
that it was the. duty of inspectors of education to sof¬
ten the austerity of moral discipline with innocent plea¬
sure j and that no recreations were more eligible than
bodily exercises, which enable a young man to give a
good education its full play, which improve health,
give a pleasurable and agreeable vivacity, and even for¬
tify- the mind. The fortunes of the Athenians were
too unequal to admit the same mode of education ; and
therefore the youth were trained in a manner suitable
to the rank and circumstances of their respective fami¬
lies.
ABE [ 59^ ] ABE
Areopagus, lies. Those of the inferior classes were taught agricul-
 v—— tore and commerce ; from this principle, that idleness
is followed by indigence, and that indigence excites
to the most daring and atrocious crimes. Having thus
endeavoured, by wise precautions, to preclude the en¬
trance of moral evil, they thought they had little to
fear.
Exercises of the body, such as horsemanship and
hunting, were objects of education to the youth of li¬
beral fortune. In this sage distribution, their great
aim was to prevent the poor from committing crimes,
and to facilitate to the rich the acquisition of virtue.
Not satisfied with having established good laws, they
were extremely careful to see that they were observed.
With this view they had divided the city into quar¬
ters, and the country into cantons. Thus every thing
passed under their eyes j nothing escaped them ; they
were acquainted with the private conduct of every ci¬
tizen. Those who had been guilty of any irregula¬
rity, were cited before the magistrates, and were repre¬
hended, or punished in proportion to their misdemea¬
nour.
The same Areopagites obliged the rich to relieve the
poor. They repressed the intemperance of the youth by
a severe discipline. Corruption in magistrates was sup¬
pressed by the punishments denounced against it j and
the old men, at the sight of the employments of the
young, felt themselves animated with a degree of juve¬
nile vigour and activity.
Religion came likewise under the cognizance of the
Areopagites. Plato durst never, we are told by Justin
Martyr, divulge his private opinion concerning the Dei¬
ty. He had learned from the Egyptians the doctrine of
Moses. It appeared to him the best, and he embraced
it with ardour. But his dread of the Areopagites, who
were attached to the prevailing system, would not per¬
mit him even to name the author of sentiments which
opposed the common tradition.
The public edifices, the cleanness of the streets, the
pay of the soldiers, the distribution of the public mo¬
ney ; in a word, whatever interested the republic, was
under the direction of the Areopagus. The people them¬
selves, jealous as they were of their power, did nothing
without consulting this assembly, and suftered it, without
a murmur, to amend their precipitate decrees. Yet this
authority, however great it may seem, was subject to
the laws by them rewards and punishments were de¬
termined ; and those respectable judges gave an account
of the exercise of their trust to public censors, who were
placed betwixt them and the people to prevent the aris¬
tocracy from growing too powerful.
The most important qualifications were required in
those who entered into the Areopagus. Solon made a
law, by which they who had not been archons for a
year should not be admitted members of the Areopa¬
gus. To give more force to his law, he subjected him- '
self to it, and was only admitted on that title. This
was. but the first step ; those annual magistrates, after
having given law to the republic, were interrogated on
their administration. If their conduct was found irre¬
proachable, they were admitted Areopagites with eu-
logium ; but the smallest misconduct excluded them
from that honour for ever. What administration was
not to be expected trom a tribunal so well composed !
what veneration was not due to men of such rare talents
and virtue ! Such respect was paid them, that people
presumed not to laugh in their presence; and so well
established was their reputation for equity, that those
whom they condemned, or dismissed without granting
their petition, never complained that they had been un¬
justly treated.
The edifice of the Areopagus was extremely simple $
and its roof, which was at first of the most common
materials, remained in that state till the time of Au¬
gustus. This we learn from Vitruvius. Orestes was
the first who thought of embellishing it. He raised in
it an altar to Minerva. He likewise adorned it with
two seats ol solid silver j on one of which the accuser
sat, and the accused on the other. The one seat was
consecrated to Injury, and the other to Impudence.
Ihis religious sketch was brought to perfection by E-
pimenides, who erected altars to those allegorical dei¬
ties, and soon after a temple, which Cicero mentions
in his second book of laws. This temple corresponded
with that which Orestes had built to the Furies, who
brought him to Athens, and procured him the protec¬
tion of Minerva. Epimenides dedicated it a second
time to the Furies, or severe Goddesses, as they were
termed by the Athenians. A man was thought lost
without resource, and a victim to every human ill, if he
enforced a perjury by invoking the sacred name of those
tremendous divinities.
Those who employed their thoughts in solving the
mysteries of Paganism, imagined that the Eumenides
had their temple so near the court of Areopagus, that
they might enlighten the judges by their inspiration,
and, by their continual assistance, prevent them from
committing those errors to which human weakness is
liable. To propitiate those terrible deities, and to pro¬
cure their favour for the Areopagus, they were wor¬
shipped with great punctuality and devotion ; and the
senate itself appointed their priests. Demosthenes had
been nominated to preside over their sacrifices ; and he
thought it very extraordinary, that he to whom the re¬
public had confided so important an office, should be
publicly impeached.
It was natural to associate with the Eumenides the
other deities who shared with them the sovereign em¬
pire over the dead. Epimenides placed in their temples
the statues of Pluto, of Mercury, and of Tellus. They
were all, according to Pausanias, of an agreeable form.
Each of them was placed upon an altar, on which the
citizens, or strangers, who had been acquitted by the
Areopagus, made their grateful offerings. But it was
not to gratitude alone that these several deities owed all
the incense that smoked upon their altars. They who
had been accused before the senate, harassed with super¬
stition, and uncertain how these deities would be affect¬
ed towards them, were lavish of sacrifices to obtain their
clemency, by which they hoped their judges would like¬
wise be influenced.
The tomb of Oedipus was another of the ornaments
of the Areopagus. It was in the outward court of the
Areopagus, where a barge was likewise placed, which
made a part of the pomp at the public games.
Whatever homage and implicit obedience the court
of Areopagus might derive from all this religious
parade, the public good was always dearer to them
than
Areopa g.
ABE ' [ 599 ] ARE
Areopagus. ^ian any l°wer advantages they might have drawn
from the altars and temples with which they were sur¬
rounded.
The senate assembled in a hall built on the summit
of a hill, which was ascended with difficulty by the old
men bent with age. However, as for some time they
only assembled on the three last days of each month,
they bore with patience this inconvenient situation.
But public affairs multiplied to such a degree, that
they were obliged to add to their three former sittings
a fourth, which was held on the seventh day of the
month, and which was soon succeeded by an assembly
every day. Their meetings were so regular, that they
were not interrupted by the most solemn festivals, till
Cephisodorus was archon, who, in the third year of
the 105th Olympiad, made a decree, which obliged
the Areopagites to celebrate, after the example of the
other courts, the Apaturian feasts, which lasted fivg
days.
This assiduous and painful exercise of their office
made the Areopagites feel all the inconvenience of the
situation of their tribunal, and determined them to re¬
move it to a part of the city called the Royal Portico.
It was a square, exposed to all the inclemencies of the
weather. When the judges, who assembled there in
profound silence, had taken their places, they were
enclosed by a thread, or rather a cord, drawn around
them.
They held their assemblies in the night, that their
attention to public affairs might not be diverted by ex¬
ternal objects,—and (adds Lucian) that they might only
be influenced by the arguments, and not by the pre¬
sence and action, of the speakers. This circumstance
explains a passage in Athenaeus, who tells us, that none
knew the numbers nor faces of the Areopagites. The
custom of administering justice in the open air was not
peculiar to them. It was followed by all the other
tribunals when they tried for murder : for two reasons;
—1st, That the judges, the sworn protectors of inno¬
cence, might not be hurt by being under cover with
criminals, whose hands were polluted with blood. 2dly,
That the accuser and the accused might not be under
the same roof.
When all the members of the senate were conven¬
ed, a herald enjoined silence, and ordered the people
to retire. As soon as they had departed, the assem¬
bly proceeded to business ; and as they deemed the
least preference a flagrant injustice, the causes which
they were to determine were drawn by a kind of
lottery ; and the same chance which brought them up,
distributed them to different numbers of judges, small
or great, according to the importance of the several
causes.
In early times, the parties themselves stated their
cause in a simple manner. The eloquence of advocates
was thought a dangerous talent, fit only to varnish
crimes. But afterwards the Areopagus, on this point,
relaxed from their severity ; at first the accused, and
soon after the accusers, were permitted to engage those
to make the attack and the defence, whose profession it
was to exert the art of speaking for others with accura¬
cy and elegance.
Sextus Empiricus seems not to have sufficiently di¬
stinguished times, where he says, that the court of A-
reopagus did not suffer those who are to be tried at Areopagus,
their bar to avail themselves of the abilities of others. ^  v —" ''
What undoubtedly led him into that mistake, was an
inviolable custom of that tribunal, which prohibited,
in pleadings, all that warm and picturesque oratory which
seduces the judgment and inflames the passions. When
the suffrages were collected, each person gave his in
silence. They voted with a small flint, which they held
betwixt the thumb and the two next fingers, and which
they put into one of the two urns that stood in a corner
of the hall. One stood before the other. The first was
called the urn of death ; the second, the urn of compas¬
sion. That of death was of brass, and was termed pro¬
per ; that of compassion was of wood, and was termed
improper. The judges commonly brought their flint to
the assembly, and put it into the urn ; but, that all the
suffrages might be collected, the herald took the two
urns, and presented them, one after another, to every
senator, commanding him, in the name of the republic,
no longer to defer his acquittal or condemnation.
From this method of giving sentence, which was cal¬
led jcgvS&jv because it kept the vote of each per¬
son undiscovered, the Thirty Tyrants, to make them¬
selves masters of the decisions of the Areopagus, substi¬
tuted another, by means of which they knew exactly
the opinion of each of the judges; for they obliged them
to bring their flints publicly, and lay them upon two
tables placed before them, the situation of which was
quite opposite to that of the urns ; for the first of those
tables was that of Itfe, and the second that of death.
The first substances with which they gave their suf¬
frages were not small pieces of the bones of a hog, as
some authors assert, but sea-shells ; for which pieces of
brass, of the same form, termed spondyla, were after¬
wards substituted. The substances with which they
voted were distinguished by their form and colour.
Those which condemned were black, and perforated in
the middle ; the others were white, and not perforated.
The precaution of piercing the black ones tends to prove,
what we have already observed, that the court of Areo¬
pagus sat in the night: for what end did it serve to
pierce the black shells, or flints, if the judges could have
seen them and the white ones, and consequently have
distinguished their colours by the assistance of the light?
But as they passed sentence in the dark, it is evident
that a difference besides that of colour was necessary, to
know the black ones from the white. The judges vvere
likewise permitted to multiply, at pleasure, the distinc--
tions between signs, which essentially distinguished the
fates of men.
After the suffrages were collected, they were taken
out of the two urns, and put into a third vase of brass.
They were then counted ; and as the number of
white or of black flints was higher or inferior, one of
the judges drew with his nail a shorter or a longer line
on a tablet with a waxen surface, on which the result
of each cause was marked. The short line expressed
acquittal ; the long, condemnation.
With regard to the emoluments of the judges, they
were as moderate as those of the advocates. Ihe
length of the process did not enhance its expence ; anil
when the decision of a cause was postponed till the next
day, the committee were only paid an obolus on that
day. Hence Mercury, in Lucian, is surprised that such
seosibUiv
ARE [ 600 ] ARE
Areopagus, sensible old men as the senators of Areopagus were
 v should sell at so low a price the trouble of ascending
so high.
As to the number of the judges which composed
the Areopagus, some authors, attentive only to a part
of Solon’s regulations, by which he enacted, that for
the future, none but the nine archons should be ad¬
mitted members of the Areopagus, have imagined,
that this tribunal was filled anew every year, and that
it never consisted of more than nine magistrates. This
opinion, and some others, are refuted by the circum¬
stantial account which Diogenes Laertius gives us of
the condemnation of Socrates. This great man had
wished to substitute a rational hypothesis for the fa¬
bulous and extravagant system of religion which pre¬
vailed in his time. His project, however laudable,
appeared impious in the eye of superstition. Informa¬
tion was laid against him before the Areopagus, and
he had as many accusers as fellow-citizens. After the
charges and the answers wrere heard, they proceeded
to suffrages. The opinions were divided, but not equal¬
ly, for the number of those who condemned him ex¬
ceeded by 281 the number of those who declared him
innocent. He made an ironical reply to this iniqui¬
tous sentence, by telling his judges, that he took it for
granted they would admit him to a maintenance in the
Prytaneum. On this sarcasm, 80 of those who had vo¬
ted in his favour forsook him, went over to the opposite
party, and condemned him to die. Here then we have
361 judges who condemn j to whom if we add those
who persist in acquitting him, the number must be very
considerable.
Of all the judgments of the Areopagus, the most
famous one, excepting that of Mars, was the sentence
which they passed on Orestes. His trial, which hap¬
pened under Demophoon the 12th king of Athens, in
375 °f ^ie Attic era, owed all its fame to a remark¬
able circumstance, that gave rise to a custom which
was observed ever afterwards. Orestes had killed his
mother. He was accused before the Areopagus, and
cited to appear in that court. He would have lost his
life in consequence of the equal division of the votes,
had not Minerva, moved with his misfortunes, declared
herself for those who had absolved him, and joined her
suffrage to theirs. Thus Orestes was saved. In ve¬
neration to this miracle, the Areopagites, whenever
the suffrages were equally divided, decided in favour
of the accused, by granting him what they termed the
shell of Minerva. Cephalus and Dedalus were con¬
demned by the Areopagus long before the time of
Orestes.
Me find in ancient authors some decisions of this
tribunal, which bear the strongest marks of justice,
though their objects are not interesting. We shall
here quote an anecdote from Aulus Gellius, and Va¬
lerius Maximus, of a woman who was accused of ha¬
ving poisoned her husband and her son. She was ta¬
ken and brought before Dolabella, who was then pro-
consul of Asia. She was no sooner in his presence
than she owned the fact: and added, that she had very
good reasons for putting her husband and her son to
death. “ I had (said she) to my first husband a son
whom I tenderly loved, and whose virtues rendered him
worthy of my affection. My second husband, and the
son whom I bare to him, murdered my favourite child.
I thought it would have been unjust to have suffered Areona-
those two monsters of barbarity to live. If you think, ArequiT
Sir, that I have commuted a crime, it is your province *
to punish it ; I certainly never shall repent of it.”
This affair embarrassed Dolabella. She was afterwards
sent to the Areopagus ; and that court, when they had
examined her a long time, ordered her and her accuser
to appear before them again a hundred years after,
from the first day of her trial.
We must not, however, suppose that the Areopagus
always preserved its old reputation; for such is the con¬
stitution of human affairs, that perfection, with regard
to them, is a violent, and consequently a transitory state.
Pericles, who lived about*100 years after Solon, to flat¬
ter the people and win them to his party, used his ut¬
most efforts to weaken the authority of the Areopagus,
which was then disliked by the multitude. He took
from it the cognizance of many affairs which had before
come under its jurisdiction ; and to forward his design
of humbling it, employed the eloquence of Ephialtes,
whose talents were formidable, and who was an avowed
enemy to the great men of Athens.
The Areopagus itself seemed to second the endea¬
vours of a man who projected its ruin, and by its mis¬
conduct hastened its fall. The old rules of the court,
by which none were admitted its members but those
whose unexceptionable conduct would support its ma¬
jesty, seemed too severe. They grew less delicate in
their choice; and presuming that the faults with which
they dispensed, would soon be reformed in the society
of so many good examples, vice imperceptibly crept
among them : corruption, at first secret and timid, grew
insensibly open and daring, and made such progress, that
the most shameful crimes were soon exhibited on the
stage; and they were not copied from the low and aban¬
doned multitude, but from those senators, once the ve¬
nerable and austere censors of idleness and of vice. De¬
metrius, the comic poet, wrote a piece which he entitled
The Areopagitce, where he strips the mask off those hy¬
pocritical legislators, who were now equally apt to be
seduced by wealth and by beauty. So much had the
Athenian senate degenerated in the days of Isocrates,
cir. 340 years before the Christian era/
Before this tribunal St Paul was called to give an ac¬
count of his doctrine, and converted Dionysius one of
their number.
The end of this court of judicature is as obscure as
its origin, which was derived from very remote anti¬
quity. It existed, with the other magistracies, in the
time of Pausanias, i. e. in the 2d century. The term
of its subsequent duration is not ascertained ; but a
writer, who lived under the emperors Theodosius the
Elder and Younger, in the 5th century, mentions it as
extinct.
AREQUIBA, a city of Peru in South America,
situated in W. Long. 730, S. Lat. 17°. It is one of *
the most beautiful cities in all Peru, being delightfully
situated in the valley of Quilca, 100 leagues from Li¬
ma, and 20 from the sea, with which it communicates
by a fine river. The entrance into the harbour is ra¬
ther shallow for ships of great burden ; but when once
they are entered, they may ride securely in 18 fathoms
water. This city was founded in 1539, by order of
Don Francisco Pizarro, in a place known likewise by
the name of Arequiba; but its situation being found
disadvantageous,
ARE [ 601 ] ARE
Arequiba disadvantageous, the inhabitants obtained leave to re-
|! move to the place where the city now stands. The
Arethusa. houses are built with stone, and vaulted j and, contrary
L^v " to what is usual in warm countries, they are lofty, neat¬
ly furnished within, and finely decorated on the outside.
The inhabitants are also exempt from many diseases
common in other parts of Pern $ which perhaps is ow¬
ing to their keeping the streets clean by means of canals
which extend to the river. The temperature of the
air is extremely good 5 and though sometimes a slight
frost is perceivable, the cold is never excessive, nor the
heat troublesome, so that the surrounding fields are
clothed with perpetual verdure. These natural advan¬
tages, however, are considerably allayed by its being
very subject to earthquakes, by which it has already
been five times laid in ruins; notwithstanding which, it
is populous, and has among its inhabitants some of the
noblest families in America.
ARES, a word of Paracelsus’s, by which he would
express that power of nature in the whole material world,
by which species are divided into individuals.
ARETiEUS of Cappadocia, a Greek physician of
the sect of the Pneumatists, lived in the reign of Au¬
gustus, according to some; according to others, under
Trajan or Adrian. He wrote several treatises in the
Ionian dialect, on acute diseases, and other medicinal
subjects ; some of which are still extant. The best edi¬
tion of his works is that of Boerhaave, in Greek and
Latin, with notes, printed in 1731 : that of Wigan,
printed at Oxford in 1723, in folio, is also much es¬
teemed.
ARETHUSA, in Fabulous History, the daughter
of Nereus and Doris, and the companion of Diana, who
changed her into a fountain to deliver her from the pur¬
suit of her lover Alpheus.
Arethusa, a celebrated fountain near the city of Sy¬
racuse in Sicily, famous for the quantity of its waters,
and the number of fishes it contained. Many fables
were invented by the ancients concerning this fountain.
They had also a notion that the river Alpheus ran
under or through the waters of the sea, without mixing
with them, from Peloponnesus to Sicily. Mr Brydone
informs us, that it still continues to send forth an im¬
mense quantity of water, rising at once to the size of a
river, but is entirely abandoned by the fishes it formerly
contained in such plenty. At some distance from Are-
thusa is a fountain of fresh water, which boils up very
strongly in the sea, insomuch that, after piercing the salt
water, it may be sometimes taken up very little affected
by it. This fountain Mr Brydone thinks the ancients
were ignornant of, or they would not have failed to use
it as an argument for the submarine journey of the Al¬
pheus.
Mr Swinburne describes this once famous fountain as
a large pool of water near the quay, defended from the
sea by a wall, and almost hidden by houses on every
other side. The water is not salt, but brackish, and
fit for no purpose but washing linen. “ This (says he)
is the celebrated fountain of Arethusa, whose soft poe¬
tical name is known to every reader. The fable of the
nymph and her constant lover Alpheus, the excellency
of the spring, and the charms of its situation, are themes
on which ancient and modern poets have indulged their
fancy, and exercised their pens. Alas, how altered !
rubbish chokes up its wholesome sources ; the waves
Vol. II. Part II. f
have found a passage through the rocks, which repeat¬
ed earthquakes have split; and not a fish is to be seen
in it. Sometimes, after an earthquake, it has been left
dry ; and, at other times, the whole mass of its waters
lias been tainted by subterranous effluvia. Its fountain
bead probably lies among the neighbouring hills.”
Arethusa. See Botany Index.
ARETIA. See Botany Index.
ARETIN, Guido, famous for his musical improve¬
ments, lived in the 13th century. He was a native of
Arezzo, a city in Tuscany ; and having been taught
the practice of music in bis youth, and probably retain¬
ed as a chorister in the service of the Benedictine mo¬
nastery founded in that city, be became a monk profes¬
sed, and a brother of the order of St Benedict.
In this retirement he seems to have devoted himself
to the study of music, particularly the system of the an¬
cients, and, above all, to reform their method of nota¬
tion. The difficulties that attended the instruction of
youth in the church offices were so great, that, as he
himself says, ten years were generally consumed barely
in acquiring the knowledge of the plain song; and this
consideration induced him to labour after some amend¬
ment, some metlfod that might facilitate instruction,
and enable those employed in the choral office to per¬
form the duties of it in a correct and decent manner.
If we may credit those legendary accounts that are ex¬
tant in old monkish manuscripts, we should believe he
was assisted in his pious intention by immediate com¬
munications from heaven : some speak of the invention
of the syllables as the effect of inspiration : and Guido
himself seems to have been of the same opinion, by his
saying it was revealed to him by the Lord ; or, as
some interpret his words, in a dream : but graver histo¬
rians say, that being at vespers in the chapel of his mo¬
nastery, it happened that one of the offices appointed for
that day was the hymn * to St John.
UT queatit laxis REsonare jibris
Mira gestorum FAmuli tuorum
SOLve pollutis LAbiis reatum,
Sancte loannes.
Arethi/sii
Aretin.
* Compo¬
sed by Fau!,
a deacon of
the church
of Aquileia
about the
year 770.
During the performance of the hymn, he remarked
the iteration of the words, and the frequent returns of
UT, RE, mi, FA, SOL, LA : he observed likewise a dis¬
similarity between the closeness of the syllable MI and
the broad open sound of FA, which he thought could
not fail to impress upon the mind a lasting idea of their
congruity ; and immediately conceived a thought of ap¬
plying these six syllables to perfect an improvement ei¬
ther then actually made by him, or under considera¬
tion, viz. that of converting the ancient tetrachords into
hexachords.
Struck with the discovery, he retired to his study,
and having perfected his system, began to introduce it
into practice; the persons to whom he communicated
it were the brethren of his own monastery, from whom
it met with but a cold reception, which in the epi¬
stle to his friend, he ascribes undoubtedly to its true
cause, envy : however, his interest with the abbot, and
his employment in the chapel, gave him an opportu¬
nity of trying the efficacy of his method on the boys
who were training up for the choral service, and it ex¬
ceeded the most sanguine expectation. “ To the ad¬
miration of all (says Cardinal Baronins) a boy there-
4 G by
A , R E [ 602 ] ARE
by learnt, In a few months, what no man, though
oi great ingenuity, could before that attain in several
years.”
The lame of Guido’s invention soon spread abroad,
and his method of instruction was adopted by the clergy
of other countries. We are told by Kircher, that Her-
raannus, bishop of Hamburgh, and Elviricus bishop of
Osnaburg, made use of it ; and by the authors of the
Histoire Litei'airc a la France, that it was received in
that country, and taught in all the monasteries in the
kingdom. It is certain that the reputation of his great
skill in music had excited in the pope a desire to see and
converse with him 3 ol which, and of his going to Home
for that purpose, and the reception he met with from
the pontiil, he himself has given a circumstantial ac¬
count in the epistle hereafter mentioned.
1 he particulars ot this relation are very curious j
and as we have his own authority, there is no room to
doubt the truth of it. It seems that John XX. or as
some writers compute, the 19th pope of that name,
having heard of the fame of Guido’s school, and con¬
ceiving a desire to see him, sent three messengers to in¬
vite him to Home. Upon their arrival, it rvas resolved
by the brethren of the monastery, that he should go
thither attended by Grimaldo the abbot, and Peter the
chief ol the canons of the church of Arezzo. Arriv¬
ing at Rome, he was presented to the holy father, and
by him received with great kindness. The pope had
several conversations with him, in all which he interro¬
gated him as to his knowledge in music 3 and upon
sight of an antiphonary which Guido had brought with
iiim, marked with the syllables agreeable to his new
invention, the pope looked upon it as a kind of prodigy 3
and ruminating on the doctrines delivered by Guido,
would not stir from his seat till he had learned perfect¬
ly to sing oft a verse : upon which he declared that he
could not have believed the efficacy of the method, if
he had not been convinced by the experiment he had
himselt made ol it. I he pope would have detained
mm at Home 3 but labouring under a bodily disor¬
der, and fearing an injury to his health from the air
ol the place, and the heats of the summer, which was
then approaching, Guido left that city upon a promise
to levisit it, and explain to his holiness the principles
of his new system. On his return homewards, he made
a visit to the abbot of Pomposa, a town in the duchy
of lerrara, who ivas very earnest to have Guido settle
in the monastery of that place 5 to which invitation it
seems he yielded, being, as he says, desirous of render-
ing so great a monastery still more famous bv his studies
there.
Heie it was that he composed a tract on music, en-
utled Micrologus, i. e. “a short discourse 3” which he
dedicated to iheobald bishop of Arezzo 3 and finished,
as he himself at the end of it tells us, under the ponti-
ficate of John XX. and in the 34th year of his age.
N ossius speaks also of another musical treatise written
by him, and dedicated to the same person.
Most of the authors who have taken occasion to
mention Guido, speak of the Micrologus as containino-
the sum of his doctrine 3 but it is in a small tract, en^
titled Argumentum novi Cantus inveniendi, that his de¬
claration of his use of the syllables, with their several
mutations, and in short his whole doctrine of solmi-
aation, is to be found. This tract makesi[part of an
3
epistle to a very dear and intimate friend of Guido,
whom he addresses thus, “ Beatissimo atque dulcissimo
fratri Michaeli 3” at whose request the tract itself seems
to have been composed.
Whether Guido was the author of any other tracts,
is not easy to determine. It nowhere appears that any
of his works were ever printed, except that Baronius,
in his Annales Ecclesiastici, tom. xi. p. 73. has given
at length the epistle from him to his friend Michael of
Pomposa, and that to Theobald bishop of Arezzo, pre¬
fixed to the Micrologus : and yet the writers on music
speak of the Micrologus as of a book in the hands of
every one. Martini cites several manuscripts of Gui¬
do 3 namely, two in the Ambrosian library at Milan,
the one written about the twelfth century, the other
less ancient ; another among the archives of the chap¬
ter of Pistoja, a city in Tuscany 3 and a third in the
Mtdico-Laurenziano library at Florence, of the 15th
century 3 these are clearly the Micrologus. Of the
epistle to Michael of Pomposa, together with the At'-
gumentum novi Cantus inveniendi, he mentions only
one, which he says is somewhere at Ratisbon. Of the
several tracts above mentioned, the last excepted, a
manuscript is extant in the library of Baliol college in
Oxford. Several fragments of the two first, in one
volume, are also among the Harleian manuscripts now
in the British Museum, N° 3199 ; but so very much
mutilated, that they afford but small satisfaction to a
curious inquiier.
Aretin, Leonard, one of the most learned men of
the 15th century, was secretary to the republic of
Florence, and translated from the Greek into Latin
some of the Lives of Plutarch, and Aristotle’s Ethics :
he also composed three books of the Punic war, that
may serve as a supplement to those wanting in Livy 3
the history of the transactions in Italy during his time 3
that of ancient Greece 3 that of the Goths 3 that of the
republic of Florence 3 and many other books. He died
in I443> aged 74- .
Aretin, Francis, a man of great reading, and well
acquainted with the Greek language. He translated
into Latin the Commentaries of St Chrysostom Upon
St John, and about 20 homilies of the same father3
he also translated the Letters of Phalaris into Latin,
and wrote a treatise F)e bulneis Futeolanis. He studied
at Sienna, about the year 1443 5 and afterwards taught
law there with such reputation, that they called him
the Prince of Subtleties, and his wit became a proverb.
He displayed his talents chiefly in disputes, in which
nobody could withstand him. Fie gave his opinions
in law with so much confidence, ss to assure those who
consulted him that they should carry thair cause : nor
did experience contradict him 3 for it was a common
saying at the bar, such a cause has been condemned
by Aretin, it must therefore be lost. He taught also
in the university of Pisa, and in that of Ferrara. He
was at Rome under the pontificate of Sixtus IV. but
did not stay here long 3 for he soon perceived that the
great hopes which he had built upon his reputation
would come to nothing. This pope, however, de¬
clared he would have given him a cardinal’s hat, had
he not thought he should have done a' public injury by
depriving the youth of such an excellent professor.
When old age would not permit him to go through
the duties of his office, they dispensed with his reading
of
ARE' t 603 ] ARC
Ardifi, lectures, and his salary was continued. He contl-
^ Aieiologi. nued, however, sometimes to mount the chair 5 and
-v  although his lectures had now but little spirit in them,
yet he had still many hearers on account of his reputa¬
tion. One day when the students were gone to some
public shows, there were but 40 persons in his audi¬
tory j which so mortified him, that he threw aw'ay his
book : and crying out, “ Aretin shall never explain
law to a few persons,” retired in a passion, and would
teach no more. He was severe in his temper, and
never kept a servant longer than a month or two j for
it was a maxim of his, “ that new-hired servants al¬
ways served best.” He was honoured with the title of
knight, and spent all his life in celibacy j and his way
of living was so parsimonious, that he w'as thereby en¬
abled to amass a great deal of wealth. He had de¬
signed this wealth for the maintenance of a college;
but he altered his resolution, and left it to his rela¬
tions,
Auetin, Peter, a native of Arezzo, who lived in
the 16th century. He was famous for his satirical
writings ; and was so bold as to carry his invectives
even against sovereigns, and from thence got the title
of the Scourge of Princes. Francis I. the emperor
Charles V. most of the princes of Italy, several cardi¬
nals, and many noblemen, courted his friendship by
presents, either because they liked his compositions, or
perhaps from an apprehension of falling under the lash
of his satire. Aretin became thereupon so insolent,
that he is said to have got a medal struck, on one side
of which he is represented with these words, IL DIVING
ARETINO *, and on the reverse, sitting upon a throne,
receiving the presents of princes, with these words,
I PRINCIPl TRIBUTATI DA POPOLI, TRIBUTANO IL
SERVIDO loro. Some imagine that he gave himself
the title of Divine, signifying thereby that he perform¬
ed the functions of a god upon earth, by the thunder--
bolts with which he struck the heads of the highest
personages. He used to boast, that his lampoons did
more service to the world than sermons ; and it was
said of him, that he had subjected more princes by his
pen than the greatest had ever done by their arms.
Aretin wrote many irreligious and obscene pieces ; such
are his dialogues, which were called Ragionamenti.
There is likewise imputed to him another very obscene
performance, De omnibus Veneris scheraatibus. “It
*Ongm(tewas about the year 1525 (says Mr Chevillier*) that
i'imprime- Julio Romano, the most famous painter of Italy, insti-
gated by the enemy of the salvation of mankind, in-
p. 224 vented drawings to engrave 20 plates j the subjects are
so immodest that I dare only name them. Peter Are¬
tin composed sonnets for each figure. George Vasari,
who relates this in his Lives of the Painters, says, he
does not know which would be the greatest impurity,
to cast one’s eyes upon the drawings of Julio, or to
dip into the verses of Aretin.” Some say that Aretin
changed his libertine principles; but however this may
be, it is certain that he composed several pieces of de¬
votion. He wrote a paraphrase on the penitential
psalms, and another on Genesis 5 he wrote also the
Life of the Virgin Mary, and that of St Catharine of
Sienna, and of St Thomas Aquinas. He was author
likewise of some comedies. He died in the year IJ5^»
at the age of 65.
ARETOLOGI, in antiquity, a sort of philoso¬
phers, chiefly of the Cynic or Stoic tribe, who having Au>. ;
no school or disciples of their own, haunted the tables p "
of great men, and entertained them in their banquets Aigi ia.
with disputations on virtue, vice, and other popular
topics. These are sometimes also denominated Circu/a-
tores Philosophi. In this sense, the word is derived
from the Greek virtue, and hoyo;, discourse. Some
authors choose to derive the word from a^iros, grains,
“ agreeable 5” and define Aretologi, by persons who
strive to divert and entertain their audience with jokes
and pleasant tales5 which latter seems the more natural
explication.
AREZZO, a city of Italy, in Tuscany, seated in
the territory of Florence, on the declivity of a hill that
overlooks the neighbouring plain, between the Citta di
Castelli and Florence. It is an ancient city and a bi¬
shop’s see ; and was famous for a kind of earthen ware
much esteemed by the Romans. It was greatly fallen
to decay when Cosmo de Medicis took it under his
protection ; since which it has been recovering gradu¬
ally. It is famed for being the birthplace of Mecse-
nas. E. Long. 12. 2. N. Lat. 43. 27.
ARGEA, or Argei, in Roman antiquity, thirty
human figures made of rushes, thrown annually by the
priests or vestals into the Tiber, on the day of the ides
of May.—Plutarch, in his Roman Questions, inquires
why they are called Argea. There are two reasons
assigned. The first, that the barbarous nations who
first inhabited these parts cast all the Greeks they could
meet with into the Tiber: for Argians was a common
name for all Grecians : but that Hercules persuaded
them to quit so inhuman a practice, and to purge
themselves of the crime by instituting this solemnity.
The second, that Evander, an Arcadian, and a sworn
enemy of the Argians, to perpetuate that enmity to
his posterity, ordered the figures of Argians to be thus
cast into the river.
ARGEIA, or Argolis, a district of Peloponnesus,
situated between Arcadia to the west, the Egean sea
to the east, Laconia and the Sinus Argolicus to the
south, and to the north the territory of Corinth and
the Sinus Saronicus (Livy, Ptolemy) ; so called from
Argos, the capital: Now Romania di Morea.
Bv the Greeks the people were called Argcii, from
Argi or Argos; by the Romans, Argivi, Argives.
They were a colony who migrated, it is said, from
Egypt, under the command of Inachus. Polemon
and Ptolemy Mendesius, ancient Greek writers, in¬
form us, that Inachus was contemporary with Amosis,
who demolished Avaris, and expelled the shepherds
out of Egypt. If, with some learned chronologers,
we suppose Inachus to have begun to reform the Ar¬
gives B. C. 1856, and to have died B. C. 1808, he
must have been coeval with Amosis, who reigned in
Upper Egypt 15 years before the expulsion of the
shepherds, and 10 years after that event, which hap¬
pened B. C. 1806. Inachus was styled the Son of the
Ocean, because his origin was not known, or because
he had come by sea into Greece. Before his arrival
the inhabitants were rude and barbarous. These he
united and civilized, and instructed in various arts.
H is son Phoroneus instituted the laws of government j
and, on that account, has been called the first king in
Argos, the first of men, and \\\c father of mortals. The
family of inachus, after having kept possession of the
4 G 2 throue
A R G [ 604 ] A R G
Ar^cia throne 347 years, were expelled by Danaus, who ar¬
il rived B. C. 1509 with a colony from Canaan. Acri-
Argentaria.sjus> the last king of Argos, died B. C. 1313 J and
yr—j was succeeded by Perseus, his grandson, who transfer¬
red the seat of government to Mycenae, 544 years
from the first year oflnachus, in the reign of Cecrops
II. king of Athens, and about the time when Pelops
the son of Tantalus king of Phrygia, having been
compelled by Ilus to leave his native country, came
into Greece with great wealth, and acquired supreme
pow7er in the region afterwards called by his name.
In the 37th year of Eurystheus, grandson of Perseus,
the Argonautic expedition happened, i. e. B. C. 1224.
This unjust and tyrannical prince had assigned to Her¬
cules his tasks ; and, after the death of that hero, he
banished all his children. These were the Heraclidae
who fled to Athens for protection, and who returned
to Peloponnesus 50 years after the destruction of Troy.
In the reign of Agamemnon, the Trojan war 'com¬
menced, and it was carried on with vigour during the
space of ten years. In the year B. C. 1184, Troy was
taken, and the war was concluded. Scarcely had the
Grecians settled in their own country after their return
from this dangerous expedition, when the posterity of
Hercules invaded Peloponnesus, took possession of it,
and divided it among themselves. Here the kingdom
of Mycenae ended, and that of Sparta wras established
on its ruins. See Sparta.
ARGEMONE, Prickly Poppy. See Botany
Index.
ARGENCES, a town of France, in Lower Nor¬
mandy, now the department of Calvados, on the river
Meance. W. Long. o. 10. N. Lat. 49. 15.
ARGENT, the common French word for silver,
of which metal all white fields or charges are supposed
to consist. Argent of itself is used in heraldry to sig¬
nify purity, innocence, beauty, and gentleness j and,
according to G. Leigh, if it is compounded with
ARGEIsiTxVRIUS is frequently used in Roman Argent
writers for a money-changer or banker. The argen- ms
tarii were moneyed people, who made a profit either by II
the changing, or lending of money at interest. These ArSent,i'
had their tabernce, or offices, in t\\e. forum Romanum, 'rT
built there as early as the reign of L. Tarquinius Priscus.
The argentarii and foeneratores were much hated on ac¬
count of their covetousness and extortion.
ARGENT ATI MILITES, in antiquity. Livy, lib. vi.
speaks of argentatimilites, as distinguished from aurati.
Aquinas supposes these to have been similar to the argy-
raspides and chrysaspides j but the descriptions do not
quadrate. Livy only represents the argentati as clothed
in white linen coats.
ARGENTEUIL, a town of the Isle of France,
seated on the river Seine, five miles north-west of Paris.
It is a very beautiful place, with fine vineyards. In
the environs are quarries of stucco. In the Benedictine
priory they pretend to have the seamless coat of Christ.
E. Long. 2. 28. N. Lat. 48. 52.
ARGENTIERE, a small island in the Archipela¬
go, near Milo. It is about 18 miles in compass ; and
is full of barren mountains, producing nothing but bar¬
ley, cotton, and a few grapes fit only for eating. The
barley and cotton are sown round the only village there
is in the island. The ladies are handsome enough, have
no other employment but making cotton stockings,
and take up with the sailors, who put into the port.
The men all use the sea, and in time become good pi¬
lots. They have very little religion, are very igno¬
rant, and of very bad morals. Justice is administered
by an itinerant cadi, who is sometimes the only Mus¬
sulman in the whole island. The only article relating
to natural history is the terra cimolia so highly esteem¬
ed by the ancients; it is a kind of white chalk, which,
is very heavy, without taste, and crumbles easily;
they use it in w’ashing linen. E. Long. 23. 10. N. Lat.
36- 5°-
Gul. 1
Azu. j
Ver.
'boldness
courtesy
virtue ;
Pur. j j favour j
Sab. J •" religion ;
?
ARGENTAC, a town of France, in the Limosin,
on the river Dordogne. E. Long. 2. 3. N. Lat. 45. 5.
ARGENTAN, a town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Orne, and in the diocese of the Seez. It is
seated on an eminence, in the middle of a fertile plain,
on the banks of the river Orne, and has a considerable
trade in lace. E. Long. o. 5. N. Lat. 48. 54.
ARGENTARtA, a town of ancient Gaul, thought
to stand in the place where the city Colmar now stands.
It is remarkable for a great victory gained by the em¬
peror Gratian over the Lentienses, in the month of
May, A. D. 378. The Romans being but few in
number, were at first overpowered, and obliged to give
ground •, but soon returning to the charge, they gain¬
ed in the end a complete victory. Thirty thousand of
the barbarians, and among the rest their king Triarius,
were killed on the spot; and all the rest, except 5000,
taken prisoners.
Argentaria Greta, pure white earth, found in
Prussia, and much esteemed for cleaning plate.
2
ARGENTINA. See, Ichthyology Index.
ARGENTINES, a deity worshipped by the an¬
cients, as the god of silver coin ; as iEsculanus, whom
they made his father, was the god of brass money,
which was in use before silver.
ARGENTON, a town and county of France, in
the department of Indre, divided into two by the river
Creuse. Here was formerly a castle j but it was de¬
molished by Lewis XIV. E. Long. 1. 38. N. Lat.
4°. 30.
ARGENTORA, Argentina, (Notitiae) j Argento~
ratum, (Ptolemy) j Argentoratus, (Amm\a.ri) •, a city
of the Tribocci ; one of the fifty forts built by Drusus
on the Rhine, (Floras) : an appellation formed by the
Romans from the German, Argen Strassen or Straten,
“ unsafe roads for travellers,” from the marauding par¬
ties of the garrisons that infested the roads. Now Stras-
burg, in Lower Alsace, on the rivulet 111, near the
Rhine. E. Long. 7. 35. N. Lat. 48. 38.
ARGENTUM album, in our old customs, silver
coin, or pieces of bullion that anciently passed for mo¬
ney. By Doomsday tenure, some rents to the king
were paid in argento albo, common silver pieces of mo¬
ney ; other rents in libris ursis et pensatis, in metal of
full weight and purity : in the next age, that rent
which was paid in money, was called blanch fearm,
and
A R G [ 60
Ar entura a,K^ afterwards white rent; and what was paid in pro-
11 visions, was termed black mail.
Argonau- Argentum Dei, God's penny, anciently signified
tic- earnest money, or money given to bind a bargain ; in
u^v somes places called cries, or ailes, and by the civilians
and canonists, arrhee. Et cepit de prcedicta Henrico tres
denarios de argenii Dei prce nianibus.
Argentum Musivum is a mass consisting of silver¬
like flakes, used for the colouring of plaster figures, and
for other purposes, as pigment. It consists of an amal¬
gam of equal parts of tin, bismuth, and mercury. It is
to be mixed with white of eggs, or spirit varnish, and
then applied to the intended work, which is afterwards
to be burnished.
Argentum Vivum, Mercury or Quicksilver. See
Mercury, and Chemistry Index.
ARGESTES, is used by Vitruvius for the wind
which blows from that quarter of the horizon, which is
75® from the south and westward. Ricciolus uses the
term to denote the wind which blows at 22° 30' from
- the west towards the north, coinciding with that which
is otherwise called west-north-west.
ARGIL, in Ornithology, a species of ardea. See
Ardea, Ornithology Index.
ARGILLA, Clay, in Natural History. See Clay.
ARGIVI, or Argeii, the people of Argeia or Ar-
golis. See Argeia.
ARGO, in antiquity, a ship or vessel celebrated a-
mong the poets 5 being that wherein the Argonauts, of
whom Jason was the chief, made their expedition in quest
of the golden fleece. Jason having happily accomplish¬
ed his enterprise, consecrated the ship Argo to Nep¬
tune ; or, as others say, to Minerva, in the isthmus of
Corinth ; where, they add, it did not remain long be¬
fore it was translated into heaven, and made a constella¬
tion. The generality of authors represent the ship Ar¬
go as of a long make, resembling the modern galleys *,
and furnished with thirty benches of rowers. It could
not, however, be of any great bulk, since the Argo¬
nauts were able to carry it on their backs from the
Danube to the Adriatic sea.
Argo Navis, the Ship Argo, in Astronomy, is a con¬
stellation in the southern hemisphere, whose stars in
Ptolemy’s catalogue, are 45 ; in Tycho’s 11 } in the
Britannic catalogue, and Sharp’s Appendix, 64.
ARGOB, in Ancient Geography, a canton lying
beyond Jordan, in the half tribe of Manasseh, and in
the country of Bashan, one of the most fruitful on the
other side of Jordan. In the region of Argob there
were sixty cities, cvideh Ilashan-havoth-jair, which had
very high walls and strong gates, without reckoning
many villages and hamlets which were not enclosed,
Dent. iii. 4. 14. and 1 Kings iv. 13. But Argob was
more particularly the name of the capital city of the
region of Argob, which Eusebius says was 15 miles
W'est from Gerasa.
ARGONAUT A. See Conchology Index.
ARGONAUTIC, something belonging to the Ar¬
gonauts.
The Argonautic expedition is one of the greatest
epochas or periods of history which Sir Isaac Newton
endeavours to settle, and from thence to rectify the
ancient chronology. This he shows, by several au¬
thorities, to have been one generation or about 30
5 ] A R. G
years earlier than the taking of Troy, and 43 years la-Argonaiitic,
ter than the death of Solomon. See Chronology. Argonauts.
Dr Bryant, however, rejects the history of the Ar- "~v " f
gonautic expedition as a Grecian fable, founded indeed
on a tradition derived from Egypt, and ultimately re¬
ferring to Noah’s preservation, &c. in the ark. But
although we are not to believe all the romantic stories
which poets, and even some grave historians, have
told us of these famous adventurers, yet it seems un¬
reasonable to discredit entirely the Argonautic expedi¬
tion. See Argonauts.
ARGONAUTICA, in literary history, denotes
poems on the subject and expeditions of the Argonauts.
We have the Argonautics of Orpheus in epic verse*
published by H. Stephens j the Argonauticon of Vale¬
rius Flaccus, in eight books of Latin heroics, in imi¬
tation of Apollonius, with respect to which Burman
observes that the imitator has often surpassed the ori¬
ginal j the Argonautics of Apollonius Rhodius, an he¬
roic poem, consisting of four books, opus, as Quintilian
calls it, non contemnendum.
ARGONAUTS, in antiquity, a company of illus¬
trious Greeks, who embarked along with Jason, in the
ship Argo, from Colchis, with a design to obtain the
golden fleece.
The occasion of this expedition is thus represented by
Greek writers. Phryxus, flying with his sister Helle
from the rage of their stepmother Ino, the daughter of
Cadmus, went on board a ship, whose ensign was a gol¬
den ram, and sailed to Colchis (now Mingrelia, part
of Georgia). Helle was drowned by the way, in
that sea which from her was called the Hellespont, now
the Dardanelles. This, according to some, was the
ground of the poetical fable, that a ram with a golden
fleece swam away with them to Colchis ; and that the
Argonauts undertook their famed expedition, in order
to find that fleece. But Strabo and Arrian inform us,
that it was a practice of the Colchians to collect gold
on Mount Caucasus by extending fleeces across the beds
of the torrents j and as the water passed, the metallic
particles remained entangled in the wool : hence, ac¬
cording to those historians, the adventure was named
the expedition of the golden feece. Sir Isaac Newton
thinks that this expedition was really an embassy sent
by the Greeks, during the intestine divisions of Egypt
in the reign of Amenophis, to persuade the nations up¬
on the coasts of the Euxine and the Mediterranean
seas, to take that opportunity of shaking oft the yoke
of Egypt, which Sesostris had laid upon them } and
that fetching the golden fleece, was only a pretence to
cover their true design.
But the most judicious and satisfactory account of
the Argonautic expedition seems to be that given by
Dr Gillies in his History of Greece. “ The northern
districts of Thessaly being peculiarly exposed to the
dangerous fury of invaders, the petty princes of that
province entered into a confederacy for their mutual
defence. They assembled in spring and autumn at
Thermopylae, a place afterwards so illustrious, and
then governed by Ampbictyon, a descendant of Deu¬
calion, whose name is immortalized in the Amphicty-
onic council. The advantages which the confederates
derived from this measure, were soon perceived by
their neighbours. ..The central states gradually acced-
A R G [ 606 ] AEG
Argonauts. to tlieir alliance ; and about the middle of the 14th
—-y- ' century before Christ, Acrisius king of Argos, and
other princes of Peloponnesus, were allowed to share
ibe benefits and security of this useful association. See
Amphictyons.
“ Alter this event, the Amphictyons appear to have
long confined themselves to the original purpose of
their institution. The states, whose measures were di¬
rected by this assembly, found sufficient occupation in
defending their own territories 5 and near a century
elapsed, before they undertook, by common consent,
any distant expedition. But it was not to be expected
that their restless activity could always be exhausted in
defensive war. The establishment of the Amphictyons
brought together the chiefs most distinguished by birth
and bravery. Glory and emulation prompted them to
arms, and revenge directed those arms against the bar¬
barians. Jason, Admetus, and other chieftains of Thes¬
saly, having equipped a small fleet in the neighbouring
harbour ol lolcus, and particularly the ship Argo of
superior size and construction to any before known,
were animated with a desire to visit foreign lands, to
plant colonies in those parts of them .that appeared
most delightful, and to retort on their inhabitants the
injuries which Greece had suffered from strangers. The
princes of the north having proclaimed this spirited
design over the central and southern provinces, the
standard ol enterprise and glory was speedily surround¬
ed by the flower ol the Grecian youth, who eagerly
embraced this honourable opportunity to signalize their
manly valour. Peleus, Tydeus, Telamon, and in ge¬
neral the lathers of those heroic chiefs who in the suc¬
ceeding age shone W'ith distinguished lustre in the plains
of Jroy, are numbered among the leaders of the Ar¬
gonauts. Jhey were accompanied by the chosen war¬
riors, and by the venerable prophets, of their respective
tribes ; by an Esculapius, the admired father of the
healing art; and by the divine Orpheus, whose sublime
genius was worthy to celebrate the amazing series of
their adventures.
“ These adventures, however, have been too much
adorned by the graces of poetry, to be the proper sub¬
ject of historical composition. The designs of the Ar¬
gonauts are veiled under the allegorical, or at least
doubtful, phrase, of carrying off the golden fleece ;
which, though easily explained, it we admit the report
that the inhabitants of the eastern banks of the Euxine
extended fleeces of wool, in order to collect the golden
particles which were carried down by the torrents from
Mount Caucasus, is yet described in such various lan¬
guage hy ancient writers, that almost every modern
who examines the subject, thinks himself entitled to
oiler, by way ol explanation, some new conjecture of
Ins own. . But in opposition to the most approved of
these conjectures, we may venture to affirm, that the
voyage to Colchis was not undertaken with a view to
establish extensive plans of commerce, or to search for
mines of gold, far less to learn the imaginary art of
converting other substances into that precious metal ;
all such motives expressing a degree of speculation and
refinement unknown in that age to the gallant but un¬
instructed youth ol Thessaly. The real object of the
expedition may be discovered by its consequences,
ihe Argonauts fought, conquered, and plundered j
they settled a colony on the shores of the Euxine ;
and carried into Greece a daughter of the king of Col¬
chis, the celebrated Medea, a princess of Egyptian
extraction, whose crimes and enchantments are con¬
demned to eternal infamy in the immortal lines of Eu¬
ripides.”
Argonauts of St Nicholas, was the name of a mi¬
litary order instituted by Charles III. king of Naples,
in the year 1382, for the advancement of navigation,
or, as some say, merely for preserving amity among the
nobles. They wore a collar of shells, enclosed in a sil¬
ver crescent, whence hung a ship, with this device, Non
credo tempori, “ I do not trust time.” Hence these
Argonaut knights came to be called knights of the shell.
They received the order of St Basil, archbishop of Na¬
ples j and held their assemblies in the church of St Ni¬
cholas, their patron.
ARGOPHYLLUM, White-leaf (Forst. Nov.
Gen.) ; a genus ol the monogynia order, belonging to
the pentandria class of plants. The capsule is trilocu-
Jar 5 the nectarium is pyramidal, pentagonous, and the
length of the corolla. There is but one species, the ni-
tidum or glossy, a native of New Caledonia. This ge¬
nus has great affinity with the ivy ; but differs in the
nectarium, and perhaps in the fruit.
ARGOS, an ancient name of Peloponnesus; from
Argos, one of the kings, (Homer, Strabo).
Argos, the capital, and an inland town, of Argo-
lis or Argeia. It had different surnames; as Achai-
cum, from the country, or an ancient people, (Homer) ;
Hippivm, from its breed of horses; and Inachium,
from the river Inachus, which runs by, or from Ina-
chus the founder of the kingdom, whose name was al¬
so given to the river. The Argives related, that this
was one of the river gods who adjudged the country
to Juno, when she contended for it with Neptune,
which deity in return made their water to vanish ; the
reason why the Inachus flowed only after rain, and
was dry in summer. The source was a spring, not co¬
pious, on a mountain in Arcadia, and the river served
there as a boundary between the Argives and Manti-
neans.
Ancient Argos stood chiefly on a flat. The springs
were near the surface ; and it abounded in wells, which
were said to have been invented by the daughters of
Hanaus. This early personage lived in the acropolis
or citadel, which was named Larissa, and accounted
moderately strong. On the ascent was a temple of
Apollo on the ridge, which ip the second century con¬
tinued the seat of an oracle. The woman who pro¬
phesied was debarred from commerce with the male
sex. A lamb was sacrificed in the night monthly ;
when, on tasting of the blood, she became possessed
with the divinity. Farther on was a stadium, where
the Argives celebrated games in honour of Nemean
Jupiter, and Juno. On the top was a temple of Ju¬
piter, without a roof, the statue off the pedestal. In
the temple of Minerva there, among other curious ar¬
ticles, ivas a wooden Jupiter, with an eye more than
common, having one in the forehead. This statue, it
was said, was once placed in a court of the palace of
Priam, who fled as a suppliant to the altar before it,
when Troy was sacked. In this city was also the bra¬
zen tower in which Danae, being confined there bv her
father, was deflowered by Jupiter.
Argos retains its original name and situation, stand¬
ing
Argon 1 j
tl
A R G [ 607 ] A R G
Argos near the mountains which are the boundary of the
Argwiin. plain, with Napoli and the sea in view before it. The
shining houses are whitened with lime or plaster.
Churches, mud-built cottages and walls, with gardens
and open areas, are interspersed, and the town is of
considerable extent. Above the other buildings towers
a very handsome mosque shaded with solemn cypi’esses;
and behind is a lofty hill, brown and naked, of a coni¬
cal form, the summit crowned with a neglected castle.
The devastations of time and war have effaced the old
city. We look in vain (says Mr Chandler) for vestiges
of its numerous edifices, the theatre, the gymnasium, the
temples, and monuments, which it once boasted, con¬
tending even with Athens in antiquity and in favours
conferred by the gods.
Argos Amphilochium, (Thucydides), a city of A-
carnania, (Scylax, Pliny) ; its territory Amphilochia :
situated on the east side of the Sinus Ambracius, (Thu¬
cydides) ; distant an hundred and eighty stadia to the
south-east of Ambracia, (Polybius). Also called Ar-
gia Amphilochia, (Mela) •, Amphiloci and Amphilochici
the people. (Stephanus). The name is from Amphi-
lochus, son of Amphiaraus; and from Argos, the name
of his country, in Peloponnesus, (Thucy dides).
Argos Hippium. See Argos in Peloponnesus, su¬
pra.
Argos Hippium, the ancient name of Arpi ; but
Lampe is a still more ancient j afterwards called Ar-
gyrippa, and Argippa ; built by, and the residence of,
Diomedes, on the Cerbalus, (Virgil) ; afterwards a
large and populous city, (Livy) : A town of Apulia 5
now in ruins, and the place called Arpi.
Argos Pelasgicum, (Homer) 5 an appellation de¬
noting Thessaly ; so called from the Pelasgi.
Argos Partus, a port of Tuscany, (Strabo) : now
Porto Ferrajo, in the north of the island Elba. E.
Long. 11. 30. N. Lat. 42. 35.
ARGUIM, an island on the coast of Africa, about
sixteen miles distant from Cape Blanco, situated in W.
Long. 16. 30. N. Lat. 20. 20. It is scarce two miles
in length } notwithstanding which, it was a bone of
contention for 87 years between the Portuguese, Hutch,
English, and French *, and, after a variety of fortune,
has at last been totally abandoned.
This island was first discovered by the Portuguese in
1444, when a fleet bound to the cast touched at Ar-
guim, and from some little trade carried on with the
natives, it was imagined that a settlement there might
be of some advantage to Portugal. In consequence of
this opinion, a fort was erected on the island, and the
Portuguese enjoyed the peaceable possession of it till
1638. At this time, the Hutch having received a
minute account of the condition of the island, resolved
to attack it : and accordingly landed without molesta¬
tion from the garrison, which was too weak to oppose
them. The Portuguese, however, defended them¬
selves with great intrepidity, and at last surrendered
upon honourable terms. The Hutch immediately set
about repairing the fortifications, and securing it in
the best manner they could: however, in 1665, the
fort was reduced almost to a heap of rubbish by an
English squadron ; but as the fortifications were to¬
tally destroyed, and only a small garrison left there, it
was easily retaken by the Hutch the next year. They
now redoubled their diligence in strengthening the
island, entering into alliance with Moorish chiefs, pro- Aq>uim
curing a number of families to settle under protection ||
of the fort, and giving extravagant prices for gums, in Argus,
order to monopolize the gum trade. By this means the
gum trade of the French Senegal Company was almost
entirely destroyed j upon which they fitted out a squa¬
dron, dispossessed the Hutch, and had the island final¬
ly ceded to them by the treaty of Nimeguen.
Though the Hutch now seemed to be finally expel¬
led, they resolved not to part so easily with such a va¬
luable settlement. Under pretence of being subjects
of the elector of Brandenburg, therefore, they erected
one of the forts which had been demolished, and there
maintained themselves in spite of the utmost endeavours
of the French Company to dispossess them. Number¬
less were the memorials, protests, rescripts, &c. which
were published on this occasion, till a new war in 1701
put an end to them. In 1717, however, the French
Company having found all their remonstrances ineffec¬
tual, fitted out a new squadron j but this armament did
not arrive at Arguim before Feb. 26. 1721. The Hutch
defended themselves with such intrepidity and conduct
as had almost baffled the utmost efforts of the French •,
but the latter having found means to draw off a Moor¬
ish chief from his allegiance, the Hutch were obliged
to evacuate Arguim, and retire to Portendic, where
they fortified themselves, determining to watch a fa¬
vourable opportunity for recovering their settlement at
Arguim. This was not long wanting, by means of the
weakness of the garrison and the imprudence of Huval
the French director, who having quarrelled with the
Moors, was surprised, defeated, and killed by them ;
in consequence of which, the settlement fell again into
the hands of the Hutch on the nth of January 1722.
In 1723, the Hutch were attacked by another French
squadron under the command of the Sieur Riguadiere.
This gentleman boasted that the fort could not hold
out one day j but though he prevailed so far as to get
possession of the cisterns which contained the water of
the besieged, he was at last shamefully repulsed, and
forced to raise the siege with precipitation. The
Hutch, however, did not long enjoy the possession
which they had so bravely defended •, for, in 1725, their
fort was entirely demolished by the French under Hu
Casse, and has never since been rebuilt by any Euro¬
pean nation.
ARGUMENT, in Rhetoric and Logic, an inference
drawn from premises, the truth of which is indisputable,
or at least highly probable. See Logic.
Argument, in matters, of literature, denotes also the
abridgement or heads of a book, history, comedy, chap¬
ter, &c. See Syllaeus.
ARGUMENTATION, the act of inventing, or
framing arguments, of making inductions, and drawing
conclusions. See Induction, &c.
Argumentation, according to Cicero, is the deliver¬
ing or unfolding of an argument.—The matter of ar¬
gumentations is propositions ; the form, their due dis¬
position, with regard to one another, so as a conclu¬
sion may be drawn from them. See Enthymeme,
Proposition, Ratiocination, Sorites, Syllo¬
gism, &c.
ARGUS, in fabulous history, w-as the son ol Aris-
tor, and had 100 eyes, 50 of which were always open.
Juno made choice of him to guard lo, whom Jupiter
had
A R G [ 6c8 ] A R G
Araus had transformed into a white heifer; hut Jupiter, pity-
ii ing lo for being so closely confined, sent Mercury, who,
with h is flute, charmed Argos to sleep, sealed up his
, eyes with his caduceus, and then cut off his head ; when
Juno, to reward his fidelity, turned him into a peacock,
and placed his eyes in his tail.
Argus-shell, a species of porcelain shell, beautifully
variegated with spots, resenablimg in some measure those
in a peacock’s tail.
ARGUTIiE, witty and acute sayings, which com¬
monly signify something further than what their mere
words at first sight seem to import. Writers on rhe¬
toric speak of divers species of argutiee, viz.
Argutim ab alieno, when something is said, which
seems repugnant either to the nature and property of a
thing, or to common custom, the laws, &c. which yet
in reality is consistent therewith ; or when something is
given as a reason of another, which yet is not the rea¬
son of it. For instance, Si Cains nihil didicisset, erras-
set minus , again, Aareum hoc scectrfum est, quia plu-
rimus jam auro honos venit.
Argutice ab allusione, those wherein allusion is made
to some history, fable, sentence, proverb or the like ;
e. g. Multi umbram captant et carnem amittunt.
Argutice a comparatis, when two things are compared
together, which yet at first sight appear very different
from each other, but so as to make a pretty kind of si¬
mile or dissimile ; e. g. Par est pauper nil cupiens prin-
dpi omnia habenti.
Argutice a repugnantibus, when two things meet in a
subject, which yet regularly cannot be therein ; or when
two things are opposed to each other, yet the epithet
of the one is attributed to the other, e. g. Mum tacent
clamant.
ARGYLL, Dukes of. See Campbell.
ARGYLLSHIRE, one of the counties of Scot¬
land, supposed to have formed the principal part of the
Caledonian kingdom, when the eastern provinces of
Scotland submitted to the irresistible power of the Ro¬
man empire. It is bounded on the east by the shires
of Perth and Dunbarton ; on the north by Inverness ;
on the west and south by the Irish sea and the frith of
Clyde, which enter into various bays, sounds, and in¬
lets, round the coast, and form both in the main land
and the islands, many spacious and commodious har¬
bours. This county is subdivided into the districts of
Kintyre, Knapdale, Argyll Proper, Cowal, and Lorn.
Within the same division are also comprehended seve¬
ral Hebudian islands, of which two or three are of con¬
siderable extent. Its length from south to north, be¬
tween the mull of Kintyre and the point of Ardnamur-
chan, where it joins the shire of Inverness, is about x 14
miles, and its breadth, in several places, including the
isles, is 70. The total superficies is calculated at 3800
square miles, of which 1063 are insular, and 2735 on
the main land.
Similar to the other parts of the Highlands of Scot¬
land, this county presents a very wild and horrid pro¬
spect of hills, rocks, and huge mountains, piled upon
each other in a stupendous and dreadful disorder, bare,
bleak, and barren to the view ; or, at best covered
with shaggy heath, which appears black and dismal to
the eye, except in the summer, when it is variegated
with an agreeable bloom of a purple colour. Hence
lofty mountains, deep glens, inlets of the sea entering
tar into the land, form the most striking features in
the general aspect ot this country. Cruacha-Ben in shin
this county is one ot the loftiest mountains in Scotland ; ^
and where this county meets the confines of Perth and
Dunbarton, the mountains contiguous lo Ben-Lo-
mond are but little inferior in height to that moun¬
tain. I he Loch Fine, Loch Etive, Linnhe Loch,
are inlets of the sea. rlhe district of Kintyre enters
into the north channel, and is almost divided from
the main land at the narrow isthmus of Tarbat. The
district of Cowal is also nearly peninsulated by Loch
Long on one side and Loch Fine on the other. The
interior parts ot the county are interspersed with a great
number of small fresb-water lakes. A barrenness of
soil and scanty vegetation prevail chiefly on the sum¬
mits of the great mountains, which exhibit great
masses of stratified rocks or groups in a columnar form.
Even a number of the glens are barren, and afford lit¬
tle pasturage, and are covered in several places with
large fragments, which have been separated and pre¬
cipitated from the impending rocks. On the declivi¬
ties of the hills and the banks of the lakes there are,
however, numerous woods interspersed, which unite
with the lofty mountains to form a most romantic scene.
In a run of several miles, fertility, verdure, and cul¬
tivation, reign through the valley of Glenurchay. Re¬
mains of ancient forests are still very extensive in va¬
rious places ; and these consist chiefly of oakes, ashes,
pines, and birches. The level of the country, towards
the southern parts, descends the nearest to an equality
with that of the sea. The elevation of the country is
highest towards the interior parts of the counties of
Perth and Inverness.
The mountains and forests abound with fallow-deer,
roes, stags, and all kinds of wild game ; and all over
the sea coast, the moors, the heaths, and on the lakes,
the wild fowl are numerous. The mountains feed an
innumerable quantity of black cattle, which run wild
among the hills in winter as well as summer. The
circumambient sea, with its lochs, bays, and harbours,
pours forth myriads of fish ; and in several places
of the county iron, copper, lead, and other metals
and minerals, have been dug out. Yet, notwith¬
standing these numerous local advantages, Argyll¬
shire, as well as many other parts of the Highlands,
struggles with many great obstacles in the way of
improvement. The want of long leases is one of
the most material. What inducement can a person
have to manure or cultivate a piece of land which he
may have taken, when his first work is to erect a hut
for himself; and after all the disagreeable inconveni-
encies attending it, he holds his farm year by year,
dependant on the will of his landlord P When he
also reflects, that by cultivating his ground in such a
manner, the rent which he was this year scarcely able
to pay, may be nearly doubled the next year, how
can he be able to defray the expence necessarily at¬
tending such an improvement, when he is uncertain
of a competent return for his labour ? It is hoped
that proprietors will at length see the manifest advan¬
tage that will arise from granting long leases, both to
themselves and their tenants ; and, by so doing, either ’
to encourage the tenants to build houses, by paying
any expence that may remain unpaid at the end of the
lease, or build houses for the tenants themselves; and,
by
ARC
[ 609 ]
A R G
Argyll¬
shire.
*This is
he Crinan
:anal,
rhich is
ww navi-
[able.
by these means, they would have surer payment of then-
rents, which would be augmented j their grounds would
' be greatly improved, and their vassals would enjoy
comfort and ease. Another great obstacle to the ge¬
neral improvement is the rugged face of this county,
which renders the great roads few in number, and the
intersected roads for the purpose of conveying manure
to the grounds being still in their natural rudeness.
The chief branch of husbandry followed over the
greatest part of this county is the management of sheep,
black cattle, and goats. In former times, the ordina¬
ry animal stock consisted mostly of black cattle : but
within these last 20 years a more skilful method of
managing Hocks of sheep than was formerly practised,
having been introduced by the farmers of the low
country these have been multiplied with great at¬
tention and assiduity. Cows and oxen now form
only the second considerable branch of the animal
stock.
Barley, oats, and potatoes, are the principal articles
of crop ; and, in some places, the px-oper manner of
tillage has been made use of, excellent manures have
been laid upon the ground, and the most suitable ro¬
tation of crops has been adopted. In years of ordina¬
ry plenty it would appear, that besides affording a con¬
siderable surplus to the breweries and distilleries, the
grain commonly produced in this county is a sufficient
sustenance for its inhabitants. Besides the great profits
arising from the iron works and the salmon fisheries, the
cutting down of woods has brought much money into
Argyll, and still continues to be equally beneficial to
the labourer and the landlord.
When the projected canal * shall be completed,
and some villages and harbours erected, the populous
county of Argyll (Mr Knox affirms) will become one
of the most valuable provinces of the British em¬
pire. Washed on both sides by the sea j deeply in¬
dented by navigable lakes and bays j having an easy
communication with the fishing grounds on the north
Highlands, with Glasgow and the trading towns on
the Clyde, with Ireland, Wales, Whitehaven, Liver¬
pool, Bristol, and other marts on the west coast of
England j we may easily conceive, that the period is
at no great distance when Argyllshire will become a
great commercial county. To corroborate this opi¬
nion, he observes, that after a vessel gets under sail
from this coast, she enters at once into the Atlantic,
where she meets with no interruption till she makes the
coast of America or the West Indies. The line, there¬
fore, which nature points out for the inhabitants is that
of salt-making, fishing, ship-building, freight or the
carrying trade, soap and glass-making, by means of
the kelp upon their shores, and sand found upon the
islands of Jura and Gigha, which is adapted for the
latter.
In this district the deeds of the celebrated Fingal,
whose invincible arm gave a check to the progress of
the conquerors of the world, were mostly achieved.
Many of the scenes of the battles of that illustrious hero
and his gallant followers, which are so beautifully
described by Ossian, are still pointed out, and many
very ancient monuments still display the warlike spirit
of its former inhabitants. In the course of the eighth
and ninth centuries, Argyll, along with the neigh-
Vol. II. Part II. w f
bouring isles, was conquered by the Danes and Nor¬
wegians. For five or six centuries it continued under
the dominion of Norway, and during that period, was '
under the direct administration of feudal chieftains,
generally of Norwegian extraction, who each main¬
tained an almost independent government. Along
with the Hebudean isles, all the western parts of Ar¬
gyll became the conquest of the Scottish monarchs in
the 14th century. Some time after, Macdonald, the
representative of this region, obtained leave from the
Scottish crown to hold his possessions as a feudatory to
that kingdom j but the turbulent spirit of him and his
family could not remain in quietude, and therefore their
rebellions were punished with forfeiture. Their estates
and titles were bestowed on the Campbells; and these
have ever since retained them in peace and loyalty, be¬
loved and honoured by their country. The county of
Argyll gives the title of duke and earl to the chief of
this family. He likewise enjoys several other import¬
ant posts under the crown, and is the chief of the Scot¬
tish nobility. His vassals are so numerous, that in for¬
mer times he could on occasion bring 3000 or 4000
fighting men into the field. Argyllshire is generally
peopled by this clan, and affords a great number of
castles and seats belonging to gentlemen who hold of
the duke, and boast themselves descended from his fa¬
mily. Argyllshire sends one member to parliament:
it is also the seat of a provincial synod. It contains two
royal boroughs and 49 parishes j the population of
which is as follows :
Argyll¬
shire.
Parishes.
Ardchattan
Ardnamurchan
Campbelltoun
Craignish
5 Dunoon
Glassary
Glenorchy
Inverary
Inverchaolin
10 Kilbrandon
Kilcalmonell
Kilchrenan
Kilfinan
Killean
15 Kilmadan
Kilmartin
Kilmore
Kilninver
Knapdale, North
20 Knapdale, South
Lismore
Lochgoylhead
Morven
Saddel
25 Southend
Strachur
Population
in ^SS-
2195
5000
4597
769
1757
2751
1654
2751
944
1492
1925
1030
*793
2391
806
1150
1200
I045
1369
1292
2812
1505
1223
1369
I39I
1193
Islands.
Population in
1790—1798.
2400
4542
8700
770
1683
2568
1869
1832
5°4
2060
2448
1124
I4I7
1911
35i
^537
1886
1178
1009
1524
3526
1012
1764
I34I
1300
1061
{Torosay 1012
Kilfinichen 1685
Kilninian 2590
4 H
J733
3002
3281
30 Islay
A R I
[ 6iq ] ART
Argyll-
shire
II
Aria.
Parishes.
f Kilarovv
30 Islay < Kilchoman
(.Kildalton _
Jura and Colonsay, &c.
Coll and Tiry
3 ij Giglia and Cara
Small isles
}
Population
in ^SS-
5344
i°97
2702
5M
943
Total, 63,291
Population in 1811 85,585
See Argyleshire, Supplement.
Population
in 1790—98.
950°
1858
3457
614
1339
76,101
ARGYRASPIDES, or ArGYROASPIDES, in anti¬
quity, persons armed with silver bucklers, or bucklers
silvered.
The argyraspides, according to Quintus Curtius,
made the second corps of Alexander’s army $ the first
was the phalanx.—According to Justin’s account, lib.
xii. cap. 7. Alexander having penetrated into India,
and extended his empire as far as the ocean; for a mo¬
nument of his glory, ordered the armour of his soldiers,
and the housings of his horses, to be adorned with sil¬
ver. And hence commanded them to be called argy-
raspides, from the Greek silvery and «s-5r<s,
buckler.
By this author it should seem, that Alexander’s whole
army were called argijraspides.—After that prince’s
death, the argyraspides despised all other chiefs of the
army, disdaining to obey any other, having borne arms
under Alexander.
ARGYRIPjTi, See Argos Hippium.
ARGYRUNPITM, a maritime town of Illyria
(Ptolemy, Pliny). Now Novigrad, a town of Dalma¬
tia. E. Long. 17. 30. N. Lat. 44. 30.
ARHUSEN, a diocese in North Jutland, in Den¬
mark, to the south of Wilburg, about 60 miles in
length and 30 in breadth. It contains two capital ci¬
ties, called Arhusen and Plunder / besides several mar¬
ket towns of less note, and upwards of 300 villages.
Arhusen, one ol the capitals, is advantageously situa¬
ted on the coast of the Baltic sea, at the mouth of the
river Guda, which runs through it; and it is surround¬
ed with forests full of game. E. Long. ic. o. N. Lat.
56. 12.
ARIA, one of the ancient names of Thrace, (Ste-
phanus) ; that is, martial, from the character of the
people, whose country Euripides calls the residence of
IMars, and Sophocles his place of nativity.
^^^) and Ariana, in Ancient Geography, whether
the same or distinct countries authors are not agreed.
I tolemy has only Aria, and knows nothing about Ari¬
ana. Pliny mentions only Ariana, and says nothing
about Ana; but distinguishes between the" Arii and
Anam : Parthia, he says, has the Arii to the east,
Caramania and the Ariani to the south; from which it
is conjectured, the Ariani extended farther than the
Arii, and comprised the Gedrosii and the Drangte.
Anian has only Aria and Arii, and is silent about A-
riana. But Strabo gives more extensive bounds to A-
riana than to Aria, without particularly defining them ;
only in general he says, that Ariana begins from India,
aud quotes Eratosthenes ; according to whom, Ariana
3
is bounded by the Indus on the east; on the south by
the Great sea ; by Paropamisus on the north, and by
the mountains, quite to the Portae Caspise ; on the west
by the same boundaries by which Parthia is separated
from Media, Caramania from Parsetacene and Persia :
and thus Ariana is extremely extensive.—Aria has its
limits thus described by Ptolemy : On the north, some
parts of Margiana and Bactriana ; on the east, the
Paropamisidae; on the south the Drangianae: and Stra¬
bo says, the Arii adjoin to the Paropamisidae on the east.
Aria, called Ariapolis, (Strabo) : Now Herat, in
Chorasan, set down in an ancient map as situated on the
river Arias, which probably gave name to the country
Aria. Arrian calls the river Areios; Pliny, Aldus}
Ammian, Arias : now Heri, which runs by Alexan¬
dria, also called Alexandria Avion or Ariorum.
ARIADNiEA, in Grecian antiquity, two festivals
at Naxos, in honour of two women named Ariadne.
One of them being the daughter of King Minos, they
had, in the solemnity dedicated to her, a show of sor¬
row and mourning ; and, in memory of her being left
by Theseus near the time of child-birth, it was usual
for a young man to lie down and counterfeit all the
agonies of a woman in labour. This festival is said to
have been first instituted by Theseus, to atone for his
ingratitude to that princess.—The other Ariadne was
thought to be of a gay and sprightly temper ; and there¬
fore her festival was observed with music and other ex¬
pressions of mirth and joy.
ARIADNE, daughter of Minos king of Crete,
Theseus being sent to destroy the Minotaur, Ariadne
was so taken with him, that, as a testimony of her
love, she gave Theseus a clue of thread to guide him
out of the labyrinth. Theseus, having killed the Mi¬
notaur, carried off the Athenians he had relieved, toge¬
ther with Ariadne: whom, however, he afterwards
forsook.
ARIADNIA, in antiquity. See Ariadntea.
ARIANA, in Ancient Geography, an extensive,
country, comprising Paropamisus, Arachosia, Drangi-
ana, and Gedrosia, if we suppose it to reach to the sea.
See Aria.
ARIANNA, a small village six miles north-east
from the city of Tunis. Here is a beautiful range of the
ancient Carthaginian aqueduct, 74 feet high, supported
by columns 16 feet square, and which still increased in
grandeur the nearer it approached Carthage. The
stones are all diamond cut. Near this spot several an¬
cient maltamones, or subterraneous magazines for corn,
have been discovered within these few years, capable of
containing 100 bushels, strongly arched with large
square stones. The Moors have already begun to de¬
molish them, it being their custom to do so with every
thing beautiful as soon as it comes to light.
ARIANO, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of
Naples in the Ulterior Principality, with a bishop’s
see. Mr Swinburne describes it as an ugly city, built
upon the uneven summit of a mountain, with an ex¬
tensive look-out on all sides, but exposed to every
blast that blows. It does not appear to be so old as
the time of the Romans ; therefore may be supposed
to owe its rise to the demolition of some neighbouring
town, and to the advantages its situation afforded for
discovery and defence. It is but a poor place, with¬
out
A
Ari
A R I l 61
out trade or manufactures ; having declined ever since
the desolation caused by an earthquake in 1456. It
reckons about 14,000 inhabitants, and no less than 20
parishes and convents, besides an ill-endowed cathedral.
The wine made here is pale, like red Champagne,
which it also resembles in a certain tartness, exceed¬
ingly refreshing in hot weather. The soil lies upon a
soft argillaceous stone. At a small distance to the east
is a bank consisting of layers of volcanic earths, in¬
terspersed with thick strata of oyster shells.
Below the town is a convent of Dominicans, whose
house, within these last hundred years, has been thrice
rebuilt, having been as often thrown to the ground by
earthquakes. The last and most destructive happened
in 1732, fatal to all the country that lies along the
eastern verge of the Apennines. In order to secure a
retreat in case of future accidents, which from their si¬
tuation they have every reason to expect, these fathers
have constructed a small building of wood, the parts of
which being joined together with strong iron chains,
are contrived so as to have a proper play, and by yield¬
ing to the oscillatory motion of the earth, return
easily to their equilibrium. E. Long. 15. 19. N. Lat.
41. 8.
ARIANS, followers of Arius, a presbyter of the
church of Alexandria about the year 315 j who main¬
tained that the Son of God was totally and essentially
distinct from the Father j that he was the first and
noblest of those beings whom God had created, the
instrument by whose subordinate operation he formed
the universe j and therefore inferior to the Father both
in nature and dignity: afso, that the Holy Ghost was
not God, but created by the power of the Son.
The Arians owned that the Son was the Word, but
denied that Word to have been eternal. They held,
that Christ had nothing of man in him but the flesh, to
which the Aoyos or Word was joined, which was the
same as the soul in us. See Lardrier's Credibility, &c.
vol. ix. book i. c. 69.
The Arians were first condemned and anathematized
by a council at Alexandria in 320, under Alexander^
bishop of that city ; who accused Arius of impiety,
and caused him to be expelled from the communion of
the church ; and afterwards by 380 fathers in the ge¬
neral council of Nice, assembled by Constantine in the
year 325. But, notwithstanding that, it was not ex¬
tinguished ; on the contrary, it became the reigning
religion, especially in the east, where it obtained much
more than in the west. Arius was recalled from ba¬
nishment by the emperor Constantine in two or three
years after the council of Nice, and the laws that had
been enacted against him. were repealed. In the year
335, Athanasius, his zealous opponent, was deposed
and banished into Gaul, and Arius and his followers
were reinstated in their privileges, and received into
the communion of the church. In little more than a
year after this, he fell a victim to the resentment of
his enemies, and died a tragical death, occasioned pro¬
bably by poison, or some other violence. The Arian
party found a protector in Constantins, who succeeded
his father in the empire of the east; and the zeal with
which he abetted them produced many animosities and
tumults to the time of his death in the year 362. They
Underwent various revolutions, persecuting and oppres¬
sed, under succeeding emperors, according to the de-
1 ] A R I
gree of interest they had in the civil power, till at
length Theodosius the Great exerted every possible ef¬
fort to suppress and disperse them.
The Arians were divided into various sects, of
which ancient writers give an account under the names
of Semi-Arians, Eusebians, Actions, Eunomions, Aca~
cians, Psathyrians, and others. But they have been
commonly distributed into three classes, viz. the Ge¬
nuine Arians, Semi-Arians, and Eunomians.
Arianism was carried in the fifth century into Africa
under the Vandals $ and into Asia under the Goths.
Italy, the Gauls, and Spain, were also deeply infected
with it ; and towards the commencement of the sixth
century, it was triumphant in many parts of Asia,
Africa, and Europe. But it sunk almost all at once,
When the Vandals were driven out of Africa, and the
Goths out of Italy, by the arms of Justinian. How¬
ever, it revived again in Italy under the protection of
the Lombards in the seventh century.
Erasmus seems to have aimed in some measure to
restore Arianism at the beginning of the sixteenth cen¬
tury, in his Commentaries on the New Testament.
Accordingly, he was reproached by his adversaries with
Arian interpretations and glosses, Arian tenets, &c.
To which he made little answer, save that there was
no heresy more thoroughly extinct than that of the
Arians : Nulla heresis magis extincta quam Arianorum.
But the face of things was soon changed. Servetus,
a Spaniard by nation, published in 1531 a little trea¬
tise against the Trinity, which once more revived the
opinions of the Arians in the west. Indeed he rather
showed himself a Photinian than an Arian; only that
he made use of the same passages of Scripture, and
the same arguments against the divinity of our Saviour,
with the proper Arians.
It is true, Servetus had not, properly speaking, any
disciples ; but he gave occasion after his death to the
forming of a new system of Arianism in Geneva, much
more subtle and artful than his own, and which did not
a little perplex Calvin. From Geneva the new Arians
removed to Poland, where they gained considerable
ground j but at length became Socinians.
The appellation Arian has been indiscriminately ap¬
plied, in more modern times, to all those who consider
Jesus Christ as inferior and subordinate to the Father j
and whose sentiments cannot be supposed to coincide
exactly with those of the ancient Arians. Mr Whiston
was one of the first divines who revived this controver¬
sy, in the beginning of the 18th century. He was
followed by Dr Clarke, who published his famous book,
entitled, “ The Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity, &c.
In consequence of which he was reproached with the
title of Semi-Arian. He was also threatened by the
convocation, and combated by argument. Dr Wa-
terland, who has been charged with verging towards
Tritheism, rvas one of his principal adversaries. The
history of this controversy during the present cen¬
tury may be found in a pamphlet entitled, “ An
Account of all the considerable Books and Pam¬
phlets that have been wrote on either side, in the
Controversy concerning the Trinity, from the Year
1712*, in which also is contained an Account of the
Pamplilets written this last Year, on each side, by the
Dissenters, to the End of the Year 1719.” Published
in London 1720.
4H 2
ARICINA,
A B I [ 612 ] A R I
ARICINA, in Mythology, a surname of Diana j
under which appellation she w'as honoured in the forest
Aricine, so called from Aricia a princess of the blood
royal of Athens. Hippolytus, to whom this princess
was married, is »aid to have erected a temple to Diana
in this forest, where he was concealed after his resur¬
rection by Esculapius, and to have established a priest
and festivals.
ARIUS Montanus, a learned Spanish divine, em¬
ployed by Philip II. of Spain to publish another edi¬
tion of the Bible, after that of Cardinal Ximenes;
which he finished with applause, and died at Seville in
1589.
AMIGA, a port town of South America, in the pro¬
vince of Los Charcas, in Peru. It was formerly a con¬
siderable place, but the earthquakes, which are frequent
here, have almost entirely ruined it; for there are no
more than 150 families, which are most of them blacks,
mulattoes, and Indians. Most of the houses are made
with canes or reeds, set upright and bound together
with cords or thongs; and as it never rains here, they
are covered only with mats, which makes the place look
at a distance like a heap of ruins.
The vale of Arica is about a league wide, and six
leagues long, next the sea, and is all a barren country,
except the spot where the old town stood, which is di¬
vided into little meadows of clover grass, and plots for
sugar canes, with a few olive and cotton trees inter¬
mixed. This vale grows narrower as it runs eastward:
and a league up there is a village, where they begin to
cultivate pimento or Jamaica pepper, which is planted
throughout all the rest of the vale ; and there are se¬
veral farms, which produce nothing else, that bring
in the value of 80,000 crowns yearly. The Spaniards
of Peru are so used to this pepper, that they dress
no provisions without it.. W. Long. 70. 15. S. Lat.
38. 26.
ARICONIUM, a town of the Silures, (Antonine) ;
now Hereford, (Camden). W. Long. 2. 42. Lat. 52. 6.
ARIDAS, a kind of taffety, manufactured in the
East Indies from a shining thread which is got from
certain herbs, whence they are styled aridas of herbs.
ARIDULLAM, in Nalw'al Histoty, a kind of zar-
nich found in the East Indies. See ZarniCH.
ARIES, in Z.oology. See Ovis.
Aries, the battering ram. See Battering Batn.
Aries, in Astronomy, a constellation of fixed stars,
drawn on the globe, in the figure of a ram. It is the
first of the twelve signs of the zodiac, from which a
twelfth part of the ecliptic takes its denomination.
ARILLUS, an improper term invented bv Lin¬
naeus, and defined to he the proper exterior coat or co¬
vering of the seed which falls off spontaneously.
All seeds are not furnished with an anil us 5 m many,
a dry covering, or scarf skin, supplies its place. In
jasmine ; hound’s tongue, cynoglossum; cucumber •,
tiaxinella , dzctQmnus’, staff-tree,, celcistriis, spindle-
tree, euonymus ; African spiraea, diosma ; and the cof¬
fee-tree, coffea; it is very conspicuous.
In the genus hound’s tongue, four of these arilli or
proper coats, each enfolding a single reed, are affix¬
ed to the stylus : and in this circumstance, says Lin¬
naeus, does the essence of the genus consist. In
Craxinella, the arillus is common to two seeds. The
staff tree has its seeds only half involved with this co-
Ver* ... II
Hie arillus is either baccatus, succulent, and of the Arima
nature of a berry ; as in the spindle tree, euonymus— '—^
Cartilagineus, cartilaginous, or gristly; as in the Afri¬
can spiraea, diosma—Coloratus, coloured; as in the
stafl-tree—— A/fwfz'cw.y; endued with elasticity, for dispers¬
ing the seeds; as is remarkable in the African spiraea,
diosma, and fraxinella—Scaber, rough and knotty ; as
in hound’s tongue.
Although covered with an arillus or other dry coat,
seeds are said to be naked {semina nuda) when they
are not enclosed in any species of pericarpium or fruit
vessel ; as in the grasses, and the labiati or lipped
flowers of Tournefort, which correspond to the didynamia
gymnospermia of Linnaeus. Seeds are said to be co¬
vered (semina tecta) when they are contained in a fruit
vessel, whether capsule, pod, or pulpy pericarpium, of
the apple, berry, or cherry kind : (See Semen). This
exterior coat of thp seed is, by some former writers,
styled calyptra. See Caeyptra.
The different skins or coverings of the seeds are
adapted, say naturalists, for receiving the nutritive
juices, and transmitting them within.
ARIMAN1US, the evil god of the ancient Per¬
sians. The Persian Magi held two principles ; a good
demon or god, and an evil one : the first the author
of all good, and the other of all evil: the former they
supposed to be represented by light, and the latter by
darkness, as their truest symbols. The good principle
they named Ye%ad or Yesdan, and Ormovsd or Hormi%-
da, which the Greeks wrote Oromasdes; and the evil
demon they called Ahriman, and the Greeks Arima-
mus. Some of the Magians held both these principles
to have been from all eternity ; but this sect was repu¬
ted heterodox : the original doctrine being, that the
good principle only was eternal, and the other created.
—Plutarch (De Iside et Osiride, p. 369.) gives the
following account of the Magian traditions in relation
to these gods, and the introduction of evil into the
world, viz. That Oromazes consisted of the most pure
light, and Arimanius of darkness ; and that they were
at war with each other: That Gromazes created the
gods ; the first, the author of benevolence; the second,
of truth ; the third, of justice, riches, and the plea¬
sure which attends good actions ; and that Arimanius
made as many, who were the authors of the opposite
evils or vices : that then Oromazes, triplicating him¬
self, removed as far from the sun as the sun is from the
earth, and adorned the heaven with stars, appointing
the dog star for their guardian and leader : that he al¬
so created 24 other gods, and enclosed them in an egg;
but Arimanius having also made unequal number, these
last perforated the egg, by which means evil and good
became mixed together. However, the fatal time will
come, when Arimanius, the introducer of plagues and
famine, must be of necessity utterly destroyed by the
former, and annihilated; then the earth being made
plain and even, mankind shall live in a happy state, in
the same manner, in the same political society, and
using one and the same language. Theopompus writes,
that, according to the Magians, the said two gods,,
during the space of 3000 years, alternately conquer,,
and. are conquered ; that for other 3000 years, they
wills
Ariinaspi
Avion.
A R 1 [ 61
will wage perpetual war, fight and destroy the works of
each other, till at last Hades (or the evil spirit) shall
perish, and men become perfectly happy, their bodies
needing no food, nor easting any shadow, i. e. being
perfectly transparent.
ARIMASPI, (Pliny), a people of Sarmatia Euro¬
pea, to the south of the Montes Riphtei, said by Mela
to have but one eye ; a fable broached by Aristeas Pro-
connesius, according to Herodotus.
ARIMATHEA, a town of Judea, (Evangelists) j
thought to be the same with Ramatha, i Sam. i. and
thus in the tribe of Ephraim (Wells).—This place
is now' called Ramla ; and is in a very ruinous state,,
containing nothing but rubbish within its boundaries.
The aga of Gaza x*esides here in a serai, the floors
and walls of which are tumbling down. He maintains
about one hundred horsemen, and as many Barbary
soldiers, who (says Mr Volney) are lodged in an old
Christian church, the nave of w hich is used as a stable,
and in an ancient khan, which is disputed with them by
the scorpions. The adjacent country is planted with
lofty olive trees, disposed in quincunces. The greatest
part of them are as large as the walnut trees of France ;
but they are daily perishing through age, the ravages
of contending factions, and even from secret mischief:
for, in these countries, when a peasant would revenge
himself of his enemy, he comeS by night, and saws or
cuts his trees close to the ground, and the wound,
which he takes care to cover, draining off the sap like
an issue, the olive tree languishes and dies. Amid
the plantations, we meet, at every step, with dry
wells, cisterns fallen in, and vast vaulted reservoirs,
which prove that, in ancient times, this town must
have been upwards of a league and a half in circumfe¬
rence. At present it scarcely contains two hundred
families. The little land which is cultivated by a few
of them, belongs to the mufti, and two or three per¬
sons related to him. The rest content themselves with
spinning cotton, w'hich is chiefly purchased by two
French houses established there. The only remarkable
antiquity at Ramla, is the minaret of a ruined mosque
on the road to Yafa, which is very lofty ; and by an
Arabic inscription appears to have been built by the
sultan Saladin.
ARIMINUM, a town of Umbria, or Romagna, at
the mouth of the Ariminus, on the gulf of Venice.
The seizing on it by Caesar gave rise to the civil war.
Now called Rimini. E. Long. 15. 30. Lat 44. 8.
ARIOLI, in antiquity, a kind of prophets, or reli¬
gious conjurors, who by abominable prayers, and hor¬
rible sacrifices at the altars of idols, procured answers
tu their questions concerning future events. Isid. Ong.
lib. viii. cap. 9. These are also called harioh, and the
operation hariolation. Sometimes they were denomi¬
nated aruspices or Tiamspices. The arioh were distin¬
guished by a slovenly dress, disorderly and matted
beards, hair, &c»
ARION, an excellent musician and poet, inventor of
dithyrambics. Periander entertained him at his court,
where getting an estate, and returning to Corinth, the
sailors, for lucre of his money, threw him into the sea *,
when, according to the poets, a dolphin, charmed with
bis music, took him on her back and carried him safe
to shore.
Arjon, an admirable horse, much more famous in
3 ] A R I
poetic history than Bucephalus in that of Alexander. Arion
Authors speak variously of his origin, though they II
agree in giving him a divine one. His production is i AlKiA-'- i
most commonly ascribed to Neptune. This god, ac¬
cording to some, raised him out of the ground by a
stroke of his trident : according to others, he begat him
upon the body of the fury Erinnys 5 according to
others, upon that of Geres, whom he ravished in the
form of a horse, she having previously assumed the form
of a mare to elude his pursuit. This horse was nursed
by the Nereids j and being sometimes yoked with the
sea horses of Neptune to the chariot of this god, he
drew him with incredible swiftness threw the sea.
He had this singularity in him, that his right feet re¬
sembled those of a man. Neptune gave him to Capreus
king of Haliartus. Capreus made a present of him to
Hercules j who mounted him when lie took the city
of Elis, gained the prize with him in the race against
Cygnus the son of Mars near Trcecena, and at last
made a present of him to Adrastus. It is under this
last master that Arion has signalized himself the most:
he won the prize for racing at the Neraean games,
which the princes who went to besiege Thebes insti¬
tuted in honour of Archemorus •, and was the cause
that Adrastus did not perish in this famous expedition
as all the other chiefs did.
ARIOSTO, Lodovico, the famous Italian poet,
and author of Orlando Furioso, was born at the castle
of Reggio in Lombardy in 1474. His father, who
was major domo to Duke Hercules, lived to the ex¬
tent of fcfis fortune, so left but little at his death. A-
riosto, from his childhood, showed great marks of ge¬
nius, especially in poetry ; and wrote a comedy in verse
on the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, which his brothers
and sisters played. His father being utterly unlearned,
and rather regarding profit than his son’s inclination,
compelled him to study the civil law, in which ha¬
ving plodded some years to no purpose, he quitted it
for more pleasing studies; yet often lamented, as Ovid
and Petrarch did before him, and our own Milton
since*, that his father banished him from the Muses. ^ ^
At the age of 24, Ariosto lost his father, and found Latin
himself perplexed with family affairs. However, in poem,
about six years he was, for his good parts, taken into Fatrem.
the service of Don Hippolito, cardinal of Este. At
this time he had written nothing but a few sonnets ;
but now he resolved to make a poem, and chose Bay-
ardo’s Orlando Inamorato for a groundwork. How¬
ever, he was prevented writing for a great many years,
and was chosen as a fit person to go on an embassy to
Pope Julius II. where he gave such satisfaction, that
he was sent again, underwent many dangers and diffi¬
culties, and at his return was highly favoured. Then,
at his leisure, he again applied himself to his poem :
bnt soon after he incurred the cardinal’s displeasure
for refusing to accompany him into Hungary ; by
which he was so discouraged, that he deferred writing
for 14 years, even till the cardinal’s death. After that,
he finished by degrees, in great perfection, that which
he began with great expectation. Duke Astolfo of¬
fered him great promotions if he would serve him ; but
preferring liberty to grandeur, he refused this and
other great offers Irom princes and cardinals, particu¬
larly from Leo X. from all whom he received not¬
withstanding great presents. Jhe duke of lerrara
delighted
A R I [ 614 1 A R I
Ariosto, delighted so much in his comedies, of which he wrote
*"—v——^ five, that he built a stage on purpose to have them
played in his court, and enabled our poet to build him¬
self a house in Ferrara, with a pleasant garden, where
he used to compose his poems, which were highly
esteemed by all the princes in Italy, who sent him many
presents ; but he said, “ he would not sell his liberty for
the best cardinal’s hat in Rome.” It was but a small,
though convenient house : being asked, why he had
not built it in a more magnificent manner, since he had
given such noble descriptions of sumptuous palaces,
beautiful porticoes, and pleasant fountains, in his Or¬
lando Furioso ? he replied, That words were cheaper
laid together than stones. Upon the door was the fol¬
lowing inscription :
Parva, sed apta mi hi, sed nulli ohnoxia, sed non
Sordida, parta meo sed tamen cere, domus.
Which Mr Harrington thus translates :
I his house is small, but fit for me, but hurtful unto none;
But yet not sluttish, as you see, yet paid for with mine
own.
In his diet he was temperate, and so careless of dain¬
ties, that he was fit to have lived in the world when
they fed upon acorns. Whether he w'as ever married,
is uncertain. He kept company with one Alexandria,
to whom, it was reported, he was married privately,
and a lady Genevera, whom he slily mentions in the
24th book of his Orlando, as poets are apt to intermix
with their fictions some real amours of their own. He
was urged to go ambassador to Pope Clement, but
would by no means accept this embassy. He translated
the Menecmi of Plautus : and all his own comedies
weie so esteemed, that they were frequently acted by
persons of the first quality ; and when bis Lena was
first represented, Ferdinand of Este, afterwards mar¬
quis ol Massa, so far honoured the piece as to speak the
prologue. . He began one of his comedies in his fa¬
ther’s lifetime, when the following incident shows the
xemaikable talent he had for poetry. His father one
day rebuked him sharply, charging him with some
great fault $ but all the while he returned him no an¬
swer. Soon after, his brother began on the same sub¬
ject : but he easily refuted him, and with strong argu¬
ments justified his own behaviour. “ Why then (said
his brother) did you not satisfy my father?” “ In
truth (said Lodovico) I was thinking of a part in my
comedy; and methought my father’s speech to me was
so suited to the part of an old man’s chiding his son,
that I forgot I was concerned in it myself, and consi¬
dered it only to make it a part of my play.” It is also
reported of Ariosto, that coming by a potter’s shop,
he heard him singing a stave out of his Orlando, with
so bad a grace, that, out of all patience, he broke
with his stick several of his pots. The potter, in a pi¬
tiful tone, asking what he meant by wronging a poor
man that had never injured him? “You rascal fhe
replied), I have not done thee half the wrong thou hast
done me : for I have broken but two or three pots of
thine, not worth so many halfpence j whereas thou
has broken and mangled a stanza of mine worth a
mark of gold.”
1 Ari°SJt0.Wa9 ta^’ °^a melancholy complexion, and so
absorbed m study and meditation, that he often forgot
himself. His picture was drawn by Titian in a masterly
manner. He was honoured with the laurel by the Ariosto
hands of the emperor Charles V. He was naturally (1
affable, always assuming less than was his due, yet never ^"stan(l£
putting up a known injury, even from his superiors.' V""
He was so fearful on the water, that, whenever he went
out of a ship, he would see others go before him j and,
on land, he would alight from his horse on the least ap¬
prehension of danger. He was of an amorous disposition,
and left two natural sons. He enjoyed the friendship
of the most eminent men of learning of his time, most
of whom he mentions with great respect in the last
canto of his Orlando Furioso. His constitution was but
weakly, so that he was obliged to have recourse to phy¬
sicians the greatest part of his life. He bore his last
sickness with great resolution and serenity; and died at
lerrara the 8th of July 1533, according to Sir John
Harrington, being then 59 years of age. He was in¬
terred in the church of the Benedictine monks, who,
contrary to their custom, attended his funeral. He had
a bust erected to him, and the following epitaph, writ¬
ten by himself, inscribed upon his tomb :
Ludovici Ariosti humantur ossa
Sub hoc marmore, seu sub hac humo, seu
Sub quidquid voluit benignus hseres,
Sive hserede benignior comes, seu
Opportunius incidens viator :
Nam scire baud potuit futura: sed nec
Tanti erat, vacuum sibi cadaver
Ut urnam cuperet parare,
^ ivens ista tamen sibi paravit,
Quse scribi voluit suo sepulchre,
Olim si quod haberet id sepulchrum :
Ne cum spiritus hoc brevi peracto
Prescripto spatio misellos artus,
Quos ®gre ante reliquerat, reposcet,
Hac et hac cinerem hue et hue revellem
Dum noscat proprium, diu vagetur.
ARIPO, a town on the western coast of the island of
Ceylon, at the mouth of the river Sarunda. To the
east of this town, is a bank, where they fish for pearls.
E. Long. 80. 25. N. Lat. 8. 42.
ARISBA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
island of Lesbos (Herodot.)—Another of Troas on the
continent, in the territory and to the south-east of A-
bydos (Polyb.): the rendezvous of Alexander’s army
after the passage of the Hellespont (Arrian) j a colony
of the Mitylenians (Stephanus) $ taken and plundered
by Achilles (Virgil.) The residence of Axylus, cele¬
brated by Homer for his hospitality, which gained him
the character of Friend of mankind.
ARISH, a Persian long measure, containing about
38 English inches.
ARISI, the Indian name for the plant which pro¬
duces the rice. See Oryza, Botany Index.
ARISTA, or Awn, among botanists, a long needle¬
like beard, which stands out from the husk of a grain
of corn, grain, &c.
ARIbliEUS, son of Apollo and Cyrene, whom, for
the many services he had rendered to mankind by his
knowledge of all profitable arts, the gods placed among
the stars $ so that he is the Aquarius in the zodiac.
The resemblance of his history to that of Moses has
been curiously discussed by Huetius.
ARISTANDER, a famous soothsayer under A-
lexander the Great, over whom he gained a wonder¬
ful
A R I [6
Aristandcr ful influence by the good success of his art. He had.
H already had the same employment at the court of King
Aristides, philjp 5 and it was he who explained better than his
wu"v brethren the dream that this prince had after having
married Olympias.
ARISTARCHUS, a Grecian philosoper of Sa¬
mos, one of the first that maintained that the earth
turns upon its own centre. We are not sure of the age
in which he lived $ and have none of his works hut a
Treatise of the greatness and distance of the Sun and
Moon, translated into Latin by Frederic Commandine,
and published with Pappus’s explanation in 15J2.
Aristarchus, a celebrated grammarian, much
esteemed by Ptolemy Philometor, who committed to
him the education of his son. He applied himself
chiefly to criticism, and made a revisal of Homer’s
poems, but in too magisterial a way j for such verses
as he did not like he treated as spurious. He com¬
mented on other poets. Cicero and Horace made use
of his name to express a very rigid critic.
ARISTIDA. See Botany Index.
ARISTIDES, surnamed the Just, one of the most
celebrated characters of his age for purity and integri¬
ty, and cotemporary with Themistocles, was the son of
Lysimaehus, a man of middle rank, and born at Athens.
His dispositions and temper from his youth all conjoin¬
ed in anticipating that greatness to which he afterwards
arose. To a firm, resolute, and placid temper, he like¬
wise added a great contempt of dissimulation, and an
utter abhorrence of every thing dishonourable. He
began very early to meditate on subjects of govern¬
ment, and applied to his studies with the greatest assi¬
duity. He imbibed a strong predilection for oligar¬
chy upon becoming acquainted with the laws of Ly-
curgus, which excited his admiration, and gave him a
distaste of the unlimited democracy then established in
his native city. On the other hand, Themistocles fa¬
voured democracy •, and even when at school, he is
said to have been his constant antagonist on that point.
A perpetual opposition to one another in all political
points, whether just or unjust, was the consequence
of this difl’erence of opinion, when their abilities raised
them to several important stations in the state. Al¬
though it was deemed absolutely necessary at that time
for a party leader to oppose all the acts of his antago¬
nist whatsoever with the greatest vehemence, yet A-
ristides did not follow this practice without sell-re¬
proach. It is related, that one day having firmly op¬
posed a proposal of Themistocles in the assembly, which
in his own conscience he knew to be right, on coming
out he exclaimed, “The affairs of the Athenians will
never prosper, till they throw both of us into the bara¬
thrum,'" (the dungeon for condemned criminals). A-
ristides maintained a strict observance of justice, and
when in his own opinion a friend was guilty, he would
never screen him from the punishment due to his of¬
fence. Neither desirous of profit nor honour, he served
his country from the purest principles of duty j and
his character was so universally known, that once,
when these verses of AEschylus, describing Amphiaraus
were recited in the theatre,
“ To be, and not to seem, is this man’s maxim ;
“ His mind reposes on its conscious worth,
“And wants no other praise’’-^—
5 1 A R I
the eyes of the whole assembly were immediately di- Aristides.
reeled towards Aristides, as the true picture of the v 1
idea the poet wished to delineate. When in the office
of public treasurer, by convicting Themistocles and se¬
veral others of making free with the public property,
he raised up a party against himself} and when he gave
in his own account, they to retaliate the affront, ac¬
cused him of embezzling the public stores : and it was
only by the interposition of the court of Areopagus
that he got himself cleared. He was, however, again
elected to that office, and then, although he kept a se¬
cret account against those people concerned with him,
he permitted them to plunder without reprehension.
It consequently fell out that he was universally praised,
his acquaintance cultivated with the greatest avidity,
and interest made on all sides to continue him in office:
But when the people were about to proceed to elect
him again to that trust, he severely chided them, and
said, “ that while he had served them with fidelity he
was treated with calumny, and incurred their displea¬
sure ; now that he had really violated his trust, he met
with general applause, and wTas reckoned an excellent
citizen.” He then exhibited their deceits, and made
all parties ashamed of the part they had acted.
Aristides was present at the battle of Marathon,
fought B. C. 490, and was next in command among
the Athenians to Miltiades j and there, upon that ge¬
neral’s proposing to come to battle as soon as possible,
he seconded his motion wuth the utmost vigour. In
the field he distinguished himself with intrepidity, va¬
lour, and generosity ; and being left after the battle to
secure the spoils, he executed his trust with honour and
fidelity, bringing all to the public account, reserving
nothing for himself. He was elected to the important
office of chief magistrate the year following j but by
the art of Themistocles, the high authority he had at¬
tained by his merits was at length converted into an
accusation against him j and he was accordingly banish¬
ed by the ostracism, although a mild, often an unjust
measure in the policy of the Athenian state, lor get¬
ting a temporary relief from the presence of any poli¬
tical influence by which they thought their independ¬
ence might be injured. A circumstance which oc¬
curred on this occasion gives a very high idea of his
character. A rustic citizen coming up to vote against
him, although not personally acquainted with Aristides,
and being himself unable to write, ordered the first
person whom be met, who accidentally happened to
be Aristides himself, to inscribe his name upon the
shell, signifying his acquiescence in the sentence of the
state. The patriot said, “ Did Aristides ever injure
you ?” The rustic replied, “ I do not so much as
know him, but I am tired with everywhere hearing
him called the Just.'1'1—Aristides, taking the shell, wrote
his own name upon it, and returned it in silence tothe^
voter. Lifting up his hands to heaven, he supplicated
that the Athenians might never behold the day which
should induce them to remember Aristides ; and then
quitted the city.
As the Persians were meditating a new’ invasion ol
Greece, he employed himself in his exile in encoura¬
ging the Greeks to defend their liberties against tne
invaders. The Athenians immediately, upon the ap¬
proach of Xerxes, recalled Aristides, whose absence
they began sincerely to regret, along with their other
exiles.
A R I f 616 ] A R I
Arislides, exiles. At this critical moment, upon his return, he
——v——suspended all political animosities ; and upon under¬
standing that it was the design of Themistocles to fight
the Persian navy in the straits of Salamis, he waited on
him in private, proposed an oblivion of all past circum¬
stances, extolled his intentions, and gave him his sin¬
cere promise to do the utmost in his power towards ef¬
fecting his designs. Themistocles, some time after the
battle of Salamis, acquainted the Athenians that he had
formed a scheme which, although it was of such a na¬
ture as forbade his public avowal of it to them, was of
inestimable advantage to the state. They immediately
ordered that he should communicate it to Aristides.
It was a project for consuming the whole confederate
fleet of Greece by fire, except their own ships ; and
thus the entire sway of the sea would be left to the
Athenian navy. Aristides reported that nothing could
be more unjust, and at the same time, nothing more ad¬
vantageous that the scheme of Themistocles. Upon
this report, the people immediately determined to drop
any further thought of it. It was equally to the ho¬
nour of the Athenians that they made such a determi¬
nation, and to Aristides that he was made the referree
on this occasion. Aristides, before the battle of Pla-
teea, was of considerable service in persuading his coun¬
trymen, who were elated with their former successes,
to submit to the superior power of the Spartans, and in
preserving peace and amity between the confederate
forces. He acquitted himself with great valour and
resolution in the engagement, and was appointed after
the victory to determine a very dangerous dispute con¬
cerning the honour of the day, which he conferred
upon the Platteans, giving up the claim of the Atheni¬
ans, the Lacedemonians following his example. Upon
the rebuilding of Athens, he was the first pei’son to pro¬
mote a law which divided the administration among the
citizens at large, and enjoined that the archons, or chief
magistrates, should be elected out of the whole body of
the people, who had so deservedly merited the favour of
the state.
Aristides, upon the continuation of the war with the
Persians, was sent along with Cimon, the son of Mil-
tiades, to take the command of the Athenian forces in
the confederate army. Their humility and meekness,
compared with the haughty domineering temper of
Pausanias, so engaged the rest of the allies, that the su¬
periority of rank \yas conferred upon Athens, with the
joint concurrence of the other states. The nomination
of Aristides to lay an equal assessment upon all the
states for the purpose of defraying the expence of the
war, was a signal proof of the high idea all Greece had
of lus integrity and justice. The wisdom and impar¬
tiality with which he performed this commission gave
universal satisfaction. He obliged all the confederates,
after this affair was terminated, solemnly to swear to
all the articles of association. The advice which he
afterwards gave the Athenians to extend their own
territories beyond their proper limits, must certainly
have proceeded from some very pressing necessity, when
he thus drew down the consequences of the perjury up¬
on his own head. Aristides, on Themistocles’s falling
under the displeasure of the ruling party, would not
concur in a capital prosecution of him ; and instead of
triumphing oyer an old enemy, he always spoke of him
after his banishment with the highest respect.
In that age it was common for men who had borne Amtiib
the highest public offices to make no increase to their Aristippil
private fortunes, but no man ever carried this disinte-
restedness to so high a pitch as Aristides. Pie was in¬
deed so remarkably poor, that when a prosecution was
raised against Callias, a rich relation of his, the orator
pleading against him, in order to excite the indignation
of his audience, made some remarks upon his ability to
assist Aristides, and at the same time upon the extreme
indigence in which he permitted him and his family to
live. Callias, in his vindication, was forced to call
Aristides to testify that he had frequently oflered him
considerable sums, which he would not accept, saying,
“ that it better became Aristides to glory in his poverty
than Callias in his riches,” which appear to have been
acquired not very honourably.
This great man died about 407 years B. C. accord¬
ing to some at Athens, at an advanced age 5 others say
at Pontus, where he was transacting public business.
He was buried at the public expence, and his daugh¬
ters received portions out of the public treasury j and
a pension and an estate in land was bestowed on his sou
Lysimachus, in gratitude for the signal services Ari¬
stides had done his country. (Gc«. Biog.').
Aristides of Miletus, a famous Greek author, often
cited by the ancients.
Aristides, a very eloquent Athenian orator, who
became a convert to the Christian religion, and about
the year 124 presented to the emperor Adrian an apo¬
logy for the Christians.
Aristides, JElins, a celebrated orator, born in
Mysia, about 129 years before the Christian era. The
best edition of his works is that of Oxford, printed in
Greek and Latin, in two volumes quarto.
Aristides, a painter cotemporary with Apelles,
flourished at Thebes about the I22d Olympiad. He
was the first, according to Pliny, who expressed cha¬
racter and passion, the human mind, and its several
emotions ; but he was not remarkable for softness of
colouring. “ His most celebrated picture was of an
infant (on the taking of a town) at the mother’s breast,
who is wounded and expiring. The sensations of the
mother were clearly marked, and her fear lest the
child, upon failure of the milk, should suck her blood.”
“ Alexander the Great (continues the same author)
took this picture with him to Pella.”
Junius (in his Treatise de Pictura Veterurn) conjec¬
tures that the following beautiful epigram of iEmili-
anus was written on this exquisite picture :
EA*i, vasAav, ftDTgaj e» vx m upOfyis
EAxi/cev va-roiTicv vecpct kutx
H Js yxg XtTroTnoos ctXXct ret
Kent uv 7rciihex.o[*tni ifAxiov.
Elegantly translated thus:
Suck, little wretch, while yet thy mother lives,
Suck the last drop her fainting bosom gives !
She dies ! her tenderness survives her breath,
And her fond love is provident in death.
Webb's Inquiries, Dial. vii. p. l6r.
ARISTIPPUS, the founder of the Cyrenaic sect of
philosophy, was the son of Aretades, and born at Cy-
rene in Libya. He flourished about the 96th Olym¬
piad. The great reputation of Socrates induced him
to
A R I [6
to leave his own country, and remove to Athens, that
he might have the satisfaction of hearing his discourses.
He was chiefly delighted with those discourses of So¬
crates that related the most to pleasure : which he as¬
serted to be the ultimate end in which all happiness
consists. His manner of life was agreeable to his opi¬
nion : for he indulged himself extremely in all the luxu¬
ries of dress, wine, and women. Though he had a
good estate, and three country seats, yet he was the
only one of the disciples of Socrates who took money
for teaching; which being discovered by the philosopher,
he asked Aristippus, How he came to have so much ?
Who in reply asked him, How he came to have so lit¬
tle ? Upon his leaving Socrates, he went to TEgina,
as Athenseus informs us, where he lived with more free¬
dom and luxury than before. Socrates sent frequent
exhortations to him, in order to reclaim him ; but all
in vain ; and with the same view he published that dis¬
course which we find in Xenophon. Here Aristippus
became acquainted with Lai's, the famous courtezan
of Corinth ; for whose sake he took a voyage to that
city. He continued at iEgina till the death of So¬
crates, as appears from Plato’s Phcedo, and the epistle
which he wrote upon that occasion. He returned at
last into his own country Cyrene, where he professed
philosophy, and instituted a sect which, as we observed
above, was called the Cyrenaic, from the place, and by
some writers the Hedonic or voluptuous, from its doc¬
trines. During the height of the grandeur of Diony¬
sius the Sicilian tyrant, a great many philosophers re¬
sorted to him ; and among the rest Aristippus, who
was tempted thither by the magnificence of that court.
Dionysius asking him the reason of his coming, lie re¬
plied, “ That it was in order to give what he had,
and to receive what he had not or, as others repre¬
sent it, “ That when he wanted wisdom, he went to
Socrates ; but now as he wanted money, he was come
to him.” He very soon insinuated himself into the
favour of Dionysius ; for being a man of a soft easy
temper, he conformed himself exactly to every place,
time, and person, and was a complete master of the
most refined complaisance.
We have several remarkable passages concerning him
during his residence at that court, mentioned by Dio¬
genes Laertius. Dionysius, at a feast, commanded that
all should put on women’s purple habits, and dance in
them. But Plato refused, repeating these lines:
I cannot in this gay effeminate dress
Disgrace my manhood or my sex betray.
But Aristippus readily submitted to the command, and
made this reply immediately :
——At feasts, where mirth is free,
A sober mind can never be corrupted.
At another time, interceding with Dionysius in behalf
of a friend, but not prevailing, he cast himself at his
feet: being reproved by one for that excess of humility,
he replied, “ That it was not he who was the cause of
that submission ; but Dionysius, whose ears were in his
feet.” Dionysius showed him three beautiful courte¬
zans, and ordered him to take his choice. Upon which
he took them all three away with him, alleging that
Paris was punished for preferring one to the other two:
but when he had brought them to his door, he dismis-
Vol. II. Part II. f
7 ] A R I
sed them, in order to show that he could either enjoy Aristippus,
or reject with the same indifference. Having desired —v--
money of Dionysius, the latter observed to him, that
he had assured him a wise man wanted nothing. “ Give
me (says he) what I ask, and we will talk of that af¬
terwards.” When Dionysius had given it him, “ Now
(says he), you see I do not want.” By his complai¬
sance he gained so much upon Dionysius, that he had a
greater regard for him than for all the rest of the phi¬
losophers, though he sometimes spoke with such freedom
to the king, that he incurred his displeasure. When
Dionysius asked, WTy philosophers haunted the gates
of rich men, but not rich men those of philosophers :
he replied, “ Because the latter know what they want,
and the others not.” Another time, Dionysius re¬
peating (out of Sophocles, as Plutarch affirms, who
ascribes this to Zeno) these verses,
He that with tyrants seeks for bare support,
Enslaves himself, though free he came to court :
he immediately answered,
He is no slave, if he be free to come.
Diodes, as Laertius informs us, related this in his
Lives of the Philosophers ; though others ascribe this
saying to Plato. Aristippus had a contest with Antis-
thenes the Cynic philosopher ; notwithstanding which,
he was very ready to employ his interest at court for
some friends of Antisthenes, to preserve them from
death, as we find by a letter of his to that philosopher.
Diogenes followed the example of his master Antis¬
thenes in ridiculing Aristippus, and called him the court
spaniel.
We have many apophthegms of his preserved.—
To one who asked him what his son would be the
better for being a scholar ? “ If for nothing else
(said he), yet for this alone, that when he comes in¬
to the theatre, one stone will not sit upon another.”
When a certain person recommended his son to
him, he demanded 500 drachmas ; and upon the fa¬
ther’s replying, that he could buy a slave for that sum,
“ Do so (said he), and then you will be master of a
couple.” Being reproached, because, having a suit of
law depending, he fee’d a lawyer to plead for him,
“ Just so (said he), when I have a great supper to
make, I always hire a cook.” Being asked what was
the difference between a wise man and a fool, he re¬
plied, “ Send both of them together naked to those
who are acquainted with neither of them, and then
you will know.” Being reproved by a certain per¬
son (who, according to Mr Stanley, was Plato) for his
costly and voluptuous feasts, “ 1 warrant you (said he),
that you would not have bestowed three farthings upon
such a dinner which the other confessing, “ Why,
then (said he), I find myself less indulgent to my pa¬
late than you are to your covetous humour or, as it
is otherwise represented, “ I find, that I love my belly
and you love your money.” When Simus, treasurer
to Dionysius, showed him his house magnificently fur¬
nished, and paved with costly marble, (for he was a
Phrygian, and consequently profuse) ; Aristippus spit
in his face : upon which the other growing angry,
“ Why, truly (said he), I could not find a fitter place.”
His servant carrying after him a great weight of mo¬
ney, and being ready to sink upon the road under his
4 I burden,
f V
A R I t
rittippus. burden, he bid him throw away all that was too much
for him to carry. Horace mentions this fact in his
third satire of the second book :
   Quid simile isti
Grcecus Aristippus ? qui servos projicere aurum
In media jussit Libya, quia tardius irent
Propter onus segnes.
Being asked, what things were most proper for children
to be instructed in P he answered, “ Those which might
prove of the greatest advantage to them when they came
to be men.” Being reproached for going from Socrates
to Dionysius, he replied, “ That he went to Socrates
when he wanted serious instruction, and to Dionysius
for diversion.” Having received money of Dionysius
at the same time that Plato accepted a hook only, and
being reproached for it, “The reason is plain (says he),
I want money, and Plato wants books.” Having lost
a considerable farm, he said to one who seemed exces¬
sively to compassionate his loss, “ You have but one
field j I have three left: why should not I rather grieve
for you ?” Plutarch, who relates this, in his book De
Tranquillitate Animi, observes upon it, that it is very
absurd to lament for what is lost, and not to rejoice for
what is left. When a person told him, “ That the
land for his sake was lost,” he replied, “ That it was
better so, than that he should be lost for the land.”
Being cast by shipwreck ashore on the island of Rhodes,
and perceiving mathematical schemes and diagrams
drawn upon the ground, he said, “ Courage, friends $
for I see the footsteps of men.”
After he had lived a long time with Dionysius, his
daughter Arete sent to him, to desire his presence at
Cyrene, in order to take care of her aflairs, since she
was in danger of being oppressed by the magistrates.
But he fell sick in his return home, and died at Lipa-
ra, an Eolian island. With regard to his principal opi¬
nions, like Socrates, he rejected the sciences as they
were then taught, and pretended that logic alone was
sufficient to teach truth and fix its bounds. He assert¬
ed, that pleasure and pain were the criterions by which
we were to be determined j that these alone made up
all our passions ; that the first produced all the soft
emotions, and the latter all the violent ones. The as¬
semblage of all pleasure, he asserted, made true happi¬
ness, and that the best way to attain this was to enjoy
the present moments. He wrote a great many books :
particularly the history of Libya, dedicated to Diony¬
sius 5 several Dialogues ; and four books of the Lux¬
ury of the ancients. There are four epistles of his
extant in the Socratic collection published by Leo Al-
latius.
Besides Arete his daughter, whom he educated in
philosophy, Aristippus had also a son, whom he disin¬
herited for his stupidity. Arete had a son who was
named Aristippus from his grandfather, and had the
surname of Mj3rge^<5«*r«{, from his mother’s instructing
him in philosophy. Among his auditors, besides his
daughter Arete, we have an account of iEthiops of
Ptolemais, and Antipater of Cyrene. Arete commu¬
nicated the philosophy which she received from her fa¬
ther to her son Aristippus, who transmitted it to Theo-
dorus the Atheist, who instituted the sect called Theo-
dorean. Antipater communicated the philosophy of
Aristippus to Epitimedes his disciple $ Epitimedes to
3
ii 8 ] A K I
Paraebates ; Parasbates to Hegesias and Anniceris : and
these two last improving it by some additions of their
own, obtained the honour each of them of giving a
name to the Hegesiac and Annicerian sect.
ARISTO, a Stoic philosopher, the disciple of Zeno
the chief of the Stoics, flourished about 290 years be¬
fore the Christian era. He differed but little from his
master Zeno. He rejected logic as of no use, and na¬
tural philosophy as being above the reach of the hu¬
man understanding. It is said, that being bald, the
sun burnt his head ; and that this caused his death.—
There is a saying of his recorded, which might render
the doctrine of Aristippus less odious than it ordinarily
is ; (see Aristippus). He used to say, “ That a
philosopher might do those of his hearers a prejudice
who put a wrong interpretation upon good meanings j
as for example that the school of Aristippus might
send out debauchees, and that of Zeno cynics :”
which seems to imply, that the doctrine of this philo¬
sopher never produced this effect but when it was mis¬
understood. He should also have added, that every
teacher is therefore obliged to forbear laying down am¬
biguous maxims, or to prevent false glosses being put
upon them.
ARISTOCRACY, a form of government where
the-supreme power is vested in the principal persons
of the state. The word is derived from ccpros, optimus,
and *£flSTi*>, impero, “ I govern.” The ancient writers
of politics prefer the aristocratical form of government
to all others. The republic of Venice is an aristocracy.
Aristocracy seems to coincide with oligarchy j which,
however, is more ordinarily used to signify a corruption
of an aristocratical state, where the administration is in
the hands of too few, or where some one or two usurp
the whole power. *
ARISTOGITON, a famous Athenian, who, with
Harmodius, killed Hipparchus tyrant of Athens, about
513 years before the Christian era. The Athenians
erected a statue to him.
ARISTOLACHIA, Birthwort. See Botany
Index.
ARISTOMENES, a general of the Messenians, re¬
nowned for his valour and virtue. See Messenia.
ARISTOPHANES, a celebrated comic poet of
Athens. He was contemporary with Plato, Socrates,
and Euripides j and most of his plays were written
during the Peloponnesian war. His imagination was
warm and lively, and his genius particularly turned to
raillery. He had also great spirit and resolution ; and
was a declared enemy to slavery, and to all those who
wanted to oppress their country. The Athenians suf¬
fered themselves in his time to be governed by men
who had no other views than to make th’emselyes ma¬
sters of the commonwealth. Aristophanes exposed the
designs of these men, with great wit and severity, upon
the stage. Cleon was the first whom he attacked, in
his comedy of the Eqi/ites; and as there was not one
of the comedians who would venture to personate a
man of his great authority, Aristophanes played the
character himself, and with so much success, that the
Athenians obliged Cleon to pay a fine of five talents,
which were given to the poet. He described the af¬
fairs of the Athenians in so exact a manner, that his
comedies are a faithful history of that people. For
this reason, when Dionysius king of Syracuse desired
to
A R I t 619 ] A R I
/Lrisio- to learn state and language of Athens, Plato sent
jihanes. him the comedies of Aristophanes, telling him, these
— v ~ ^ were the best representations thereof. He wrote above
50 comedies $ but there are only II extant which are
perfect: these are Plutus, the Clouds, the Frogs, E-
quites, the Acharnenses, the Wasps, Peace, the Birds,
the Ecclesiazusse or Female Orators, the Thesmopho-
siazusse or Priestesses of Ceres, and Lysistrata. The
*Seethc Clouds, which he wrote in ridicule of Socrates is
article m0st celebrated of all his comedies. Madam Da-
Soeratei. c.er ug^ sjie was go rough charmed with this per¬
formance, that after she had translated it, and read it
over 200 times, it did not become the least tedious to
her, which she could not say of any other piece j and
that the pleasure which she received from it was so
exquisite, that she forgot all the contempt and indigna¬
tion which Aristophanes deserved for employing his
wit to ruin a man who was wisdom itself, and the
greatest ornament of the city of Athens. Aristophanes
having conceived some aversion to the poet Euripides,
satirizes him in several of his plays, particularly in his
Frogs and his Thesmophosiazusoe. He wrote his Peace
in the 10th year of the Peloponnesian war, when a
treaty of 50 years was concluded between the Athe¬
nians and the Lacedaemonians, though it continued but
seven years. The Acharnenses was written after the
death of Pericles and the loss of the battle in Sicily, in
order to dissuade the people from intrusting the safety
of the commonwealth to such imprudent generals as
Lamachus. Soon after, he represented his Aves or
Birds ; by which he admonished the Athenians to for¬
tify Decela;a, which he calls by a fictitious name Ne-
phelococcygia. The Vespae, or Wasps, was written af¬
ter another loss in Sicily, which the Athenians suf¬
fered from the misconduct of Chares. He wrote the
Lysistrata when all Greece was involved in war j in
which comedy the women are introduced debating upon
the affairs of the commonwealth •, when they come to a
resolution, not to go to bed with their husbands till
a peace should be concluded. His Plutus, and other
comedies of that kind, were written after the magi¬
strates had given orders that no person should be expo¬
sed by name upon the stage. He invented a peculiar
kind of verse, which was called by his name, and is
mentioned by Cicero in his Brutus 5 and Suidas says,
that he also was the inventor of the tetrameter and oc¬
tameter verse.
Aristophanes was greatly admired among the an¬
cients, especially for the true Attic elegance of his
style. The time of his death was unknown } but it is
certain he was living after the expulsion of the tyrants
by Thrasybulus, whom he mentions in his Plutus and
other comedies. There have been several editions and
translations of this poet. Nicodemus Frischin, a Ger¬
man, famous for his classical knowledge, in the 16th
century, translated Plutus, the Clouds, the Frogs, the
Equites, and the Acharnenses, into Latin verse. Quin¬
tus Septimus Florens rendered into Latin verse the
Wasps, the Peace, and Lysistrata ; but his translation
is full of obsolete words and phrases. Madam Hacier
published at Paris in 1692, a French version of Plutus
and the Clouds, with critical notes, and an examina¬
tion of them according to the rules of the theatre.
Air Lewis Theobald likewise translated these two come¬
dies into the English, and published them with remarks.
The most noble edition of this author is that published Aristo-
by Ludolphus Kuster, at Amsterdam, in folio, in 1710, phaae*
and dedicated to Charles Alontague earl of Halifax. !l
ARISTOTELIA, in antiquity, annual feasts cele- Arhtotle
brated by the citizens of Stagyra, in honour of Ari¬
stotle, who was born there 5 and in gratitude for his
having procured from Alexander the rebuilding and re¬
peopling of that city, which had been demolished by
King Philip.
ARISTOTELIAN, something that relates to the
philosopher Aristotle.
Aristotelian Philosophy, the philosophy taught
by Aristotle, and maintained by his followers. The
Aristotelian is otherwise called the Peripatetic Philoso¬
phy. See Peripatetics.
ARISTOTELIANS, a sect of philosophers, other¬
wise called Peripatetics.
The Ax-istotelians and their dogmata prevailed for a
long while in the schools and universities ; even in spite
of all the efforts of the Cartesians, Newtonians, and
other corpuscularians. But the systems of the latter
have at length gained the pre-eminence j and the New¬
tonian philosophy in particular is now very generally
received. The principles of Aristotle’s philosophy,
the learned agree, are chiefly laid down in the four
books de Codo ; the eight books of Physical Ausculta¬
tion, (pva-iKVf UK(>tct<riMf, belonging tather to logic, or
metaphysics, than to physics. Instead of the more an¬
cient systems, he introduced matter, form, and priva¬
tion, as the principles of all things $ but he does not
seem to have derived much benefit from them in natu¬
ral philosophy. His doctrines are, for the most part,
so obscurely expressed, that it has not yet been satis¬
factorily ascertained what were his sentiments on some
of the most important subjects. He attempted to re¬
fute the Pythagorean doctrine concerning the twofold
motion of the earth $ and pretended to demonstrate,
that the matter of the heavens is ungenerated, incor¬
ruptible, and subject to no alteration : and he supposed
that the stars were carried round the earth in solid
orbs. The reader will find a distinct account of the
logical part of his philosophy, by Dr Reid professor of
moral philosophy in the university of Glasgow, and in
the second volume of Lord Karnes’s Sketches of the
History of Man. Mr Harris has published a commen¬
tary on his Categories, under the title of Philosophical
Arrangemen ts.
ARISTOTLE, the chief of the Peripatetic philo¬
sophers, born at Stagyra, a small city in Macedon, in
the 99th Olympiad, about 384 years before the birth
of Christ. He was the son of Nicomachus, physician
to Amyntas the grandfather of Alexander the Great.
He lost his parents in his infancy; and Proxenes, a
friend of his father, who had the care of his educa¬
tion, taking but little notice ol him, he quitted his
studies, and gave himself up to the follies of youth.
After he had spent most of his patrimony, he entered
into the army ; but not succeeding in this profession, he
went to Delphos to consult the oracle what course of
life he should follow ; when he was advised to go to
Athens and study philosophy. He accordingly went
thither about 18 years of age, and studied under Plato
till he was 37. By this time he had spent his whole
fortune ; and we are told that he got his living by
selling powders, and some receipts in pharmacy. He
4 I 2 followed
A R I * [ 620 1 A R I
Aristotle, followed his studies with most extraordinary diligence,
so that he soon surpassed all in Plato’s school. He ate
little, and slept less $ and that he might not oversleep
himself, Diogenes Laertius tells us, that he lay always
with one hand out of the bed, having a ball of brass in
it, which, by its falling into a bason of the same me¬
tal, awaked him. We are told that Aristotle had se¬
veral conferences with a learned Jew at Athens, and
that by this means he instructed himself in the sciences
and religion of the Egyptians, and thereby saved him¬
self the trouble of travelling into Egypt. When he
had studied about 15 years under Plato, he began to
form different tenets from those of his master, who be¬
came highly piqued at his behaviour. Upon the death
of Plato, he quitted Athens j and retired to Atarnya,
a little city of Mysia, where his old friend Hermias
reigned. Here he married Pythias, the sister of this
prince, whom he is said to have loved so passionately,
that he offered sacrifice to her. Some time after, Her¬
mias having been taken prisoner by Meranon, the king
of Persia’s general, Aristotle went to Mitylene the
capital of Lesbos, where he remained till Philip king
of Macedon having heard of his great reputation, sent
for him to be tutor to his son Alexander, then about 14
years of age : Aristotle accepted the offer; and in
eight years taught him rhetoric, natural philosophy,
ethics, politics, with a certain sort of philosophy, ac¬
cording to Plutarch, which he taught nobody else.
Philip erected statues in honour of Aristotle ; and for
his sake rebuilt Stagyra, which had been almost ruined
by the wars.
The last fourteen years of his life he spent mostly
at Athens, surrounded with every assistance which men
and books could afford him for prosecuting his philo¬
sophical inquiries. The glory of Alexander’s name,
which then filled the world, ensured tranquillity and re¬
spect to the man whom he distinguished as his friend 1
but after the premature death of that illustrious protec¬
tor, the invidious jealousy of priests and sophists inflam¬
ed the malignant and superstitious fury of the Athenian
populace j and the same odious passions which proved
fatal to the offensive virtue of Socrates, fiercely assailed
the fame and merit of Aristotle. J 0 avoid the cruelty
of persecution, he secretly withdrew himself to Chalcis
in Euboea. This measure was sufficiently justified by
a prudent regard to his personal safety ; but lest his con¬
duct should appear unmanly, when contrasted with the
nrmness of Socrates in a similar situation, he condes¬
cended to apologise for his flight, by saying, that he
was unwilling to afford the Athenians a second oppor¬
tunity “ to sin against philosophy.” He seems to have
survived his retreat from Athens only a few months ;
vexation and regret probably ended his days.
Besides his treatises on philosophy, he wrote also on
poetry, rhetoric, law, &c. to the number of 400 trea¬
tises, according to Diogenes Laertius j or more, ac¬
cording to Francis Patricius of Venice. An account
of such as are extant, and of those said to be lost, may
be seen in Fabricius’s Bibliotheca Grceca. He left his
writings with Theophrastus, his beloved disciple and
successor in ffie Lycseum ; and forbade that they should
ever be published. Theophrastus, at his death, trusted
them to Neleus, his good friend and disciple : whose
heirs buried them in the ground at Scepsis, a town of
Troas^ to secure them from the king of Pergamus,
who made great search everywhere for hooks to adorn Am tot
his library. Here they lay concealed 160 years, until, Aristoj
being almost spoiled, they were sold to one Apellicon, nu',•
a rich citizen of Athens. Sylla found them at this '
man’s house, and ordered them to be carried to Rome.
They were some time after purchased by Tyrannion
a grammarian : and Andronicus of Rhodes having
bought them of his heirs, was in a manner the first re¬
storer of the works of this great philosopher ; for he
not only repaired what had been decayed by time and
ill keeping, but also put them in a better order, and
got them copied. There were many who followed
the doctrine of Aristotle in the reigns of the 12 Cec-
sars, and their numbers increased much under Adrian
and Antoninus : Alexander Aphrodinus was the first
professor of the Peripatetic philosophy at Rome, be¬
ing appointed by the emperors Marcus Aurelius and
Lucius Verus ; and in succeeding ages the doctrine
of Aristotle prevailed among almost all men of let¬
ters, and many commentaries were written upon his
works.
The first doctors of the church disapproved of the
doctrine of Aristotle, as allowing too much to reason
and sense j but Antoninus bishop of Laodicea, Didy-
mus of Alexandria, St Jerome, St Augustin, and se¬
veral others, at length wrote and spoke in favour of it.
In the sixth age Boethius made him known in the
west, and translated some of his pieces into Latin. But
from the time of Boethius to the eighth age, Joannes
Damascenus was the only man who made an abridge¬
ment of his philosophy, or wrote any thing concerning
him. The Grecians, who took great pains to restore
learning in the nth and following ages, applied much
to the works of this philosopher, and many learned
men wrote commentaries on his writings: amongst
these were Alfarabius, Algazel, Avicenna, and Aver-
roes. They taught his doctrine in Africa, and after¬
wards at Cordova in Spain. The Spaniards introduced
his doctrine into France, with the commentaries of A-
verroes and Avicenna 5 and it was taught in the uni¬
versity of Paris, until Amauri having supported some
particular tenets on the principles of this philosopher,
was condemned for heresy, in a council held there in
1210, when all the works of Aristotle that could be
found were burnt, and the reading of them forbidden
under pain of excommunication. This prohibition was
confirmed, as to the physics and metaphysics, in I2ij^
by the pope’s legate $ though at the same time he gave
leave for his logic to be read, instead of St Augustin’s,
used at that time in the university. In the year 1265,
Simon, cardinal of St Cecil, and legate from the holy
see, prohibited the reading of the physics and meta¬
physics of Aristotle. All these prohibitions, however^
were taken off in 1366 ; for the cardinals of St Mark
and St Martin, who were deputed by Pope Urban V.
to reform the university of Paris, permitted the read¬
ing of those books which had been prohibited: and in
the year 1448, Pope Stephen approved of all his works,
and took care to have a new translation of them into
Latin.
ARISTOXENUS, one of the most ancient mu¬
sical writers, was born at Tarentum, a city in Magna
Grcecia, now Calabria., He was the son of a mu¬
sician, and it appears that he lived about the time of
Alexander the Great and his successors. His Har¬
monic &,
A R I [ 621 ] A R I
Aiistoxe- monies in three books, all that are come down to us,
nus, together with Ptolemy’s Harmonics, were first publish-
1—ed by Gogavinus, but not very correctly, at Venice,
1562, in 4to, with a Latin version. John Menrsius
next translated the three books of Aristoxenus into La¬
tin, from the MS. of Jos. Scaliger ^ but according to
Meibomius, very negligently. With these he printed
at Leyden, 1616, 4to, Nicomachns and Alypius, two
other Greek writers on music. After this, Meibomius
collected these musical writers together j to which
he added Euclid, Bacchins senior, Aristides Quintili-
anus ) and published the whole with a Latin version
and notes, from the elegant press of Elzevir, Amst.
1652. The learned editor dedicates these ancient nm- Aristoxe-
sical treatises to Christina queen of Sweden. Aristoxe- nus.
nus is said by Suidas to have written 452 difierent'   
works, among which those on music were the most
esteemed *, yet his writings on other subjects are very
frequently quoted by ancient authors, notwithstanding
Cicero and some others say that he was a bad philoso¬
pher, and had nothing in his head but music. The
title of several ot the lost works of Aristoxenus, quoted
by Athenaeus and others, have been collected by Meur-
sius in his notes upon this author, by Tonsius and Me¬
nage, all which Fabricius has digested into alphabeti¬
cal order.
ARITHMETIC
TS a science which explains the properties of num-
bers, and shows the method or art of computing
by them.
History of Arithmetic*
At what time this science was first introduced into
the world, we can by no means determine. That
some part of it, however, was coeval with the human
race is absolutely certain. We cannot conceive how
any man endowed with reason can be without some
knowledge of numbers. We are indeed told of na¬
tions in America who have no word in their language
to express a greater number than three j and this they
call poetarrarorincouroac : but that such nations should
have no idea of a greater number than this, is abso¬
lutely incredible. Perhaps they may compute by
threes, as we compute by tens *, and this may have oc¬
casioned the notion that they have no greater number
than three.
But though we cannot suppose any nation, or indeed
any single person, ever to have been without some
knoAvledge of the difference between greater and
smaller numbers, it is possible that mankind may have
subsisted for a considerable time without bringing this
science to any perfection, or computing by any regu¬
lar scale, as 10, 60, &c. That this, however, was
very early introduced into the world, even before the
flood, we may gather from the following expression in
Enoch’s prophecy, as mentioned by the apostle Jude:
“ Behold, the Lord cometb with ten thousands of his
saints.” This shows, that even at that time men had
ideas of numbers as high as we have at this day, and
computed them also in the same manner, namely, by
tens. The directions also given to Noah concerning
the dimensions of the ark, leave us no room to doubt
that he had a knowledge of numbers, and of measures
likewise. When Rebekah was sent away to Isaac,
Abraham’s son, her relations wished she might be the
mother of thousands of millions ; and if they were to¬
tally unacquainted with the rule of multiplication, it
is difficult to see how such a wish could have been
formed.
It is probable, therefore, that the four fundamental
rules of Arithmetic have always been known to some
nation or other. No doubt, as some nations, like the
Europeans formerly, and the Africans and Americans
now, have been immersed in the most abject and de¬
plorable state of ignorance, they might remain for
some time unacquainted with numbers, except such as
they had immediate occasion for j and, when they came
afterwards to improve, either from their own industry,
or hints given by others, might fancy that they them¬
selves, or those from whom they got the hints, had
invented what was known long before. The Greeks
were the first European nation among whom arithme¬
tic arrived at any degree of perfectiou. M. Goguet
is of opinion, that they first used pebbles in their cal¬
culations : a proof of which he imagines is, that the
word ^(pigo/, which comes from a little stone,
or flint, among other things, signifies to calculate. The
same, he thinks, is probable of the Romans j and de¬
rives the word calculation from the use of little stones
(calculi') in their first arithmetical operations. .
If this method, however, was at all made use of, it
must have been but for a short time, since we find the
Greeks very early made use of the letters of the alpha¬
bet to represent their numbers. The 23 letters of
their alphabet taken according to their order, at first
denoted the numbers I, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 20,
30, 40, 50, 60, 70,-80, 100, 200, 300, 400, 500, 600,
700, and 800 j to which they added the three follow¬
ing, r, b, A), to represent 6, 90, and 900. The diffi¬
culty of performing arithmetical operations by such
marks as these may easily be imagined, and is very
conspicuous from Archimedes’s treatise concerning the
dimensions of a circle.
The Romans followed a like method y and besides
characters for each rank of classes, they introduced
others for five, fifty, and five hundred. Their method
is still used for distinguishing the chapters of books,
and some other purposes. Their numeral letters and
values are the following :
I V X L e D M
One, fire, ten, fifty, one hundred, fire hundred, one thousand;
Any number, however great, may be represented
by repeating and combining these according to; the fol¬
lowing rules:
1st, When the same letter is repeated twice, or of¬
ten er, its value is represented a.s often. Thus II sig¬
nifies two; XXX thirty ; CC two hundred.
2d, When a numeral letter of, lesser value is placed
after one of greater, their values are added : thus XI
signifies
622
ARITHMETIC.
signifies eleven, LXV sixty-five, MDCXXVIII one
thousand six hundred and twenty-eight.
3d, When a numeral letter of lesser value is placed
before one of greater, the value of the lesser is taken
from that of the greater: thus IV signifies four, XL
forty, XC ninety, CD four hundred.
Sometimes 13 is used instead of D for 500, and the
value is increased ten times by annexing 3 to the
right hand.
Thus 13 signifies 500 Also Cl3 is used for 1000
133 5000 CCI33 for 10000
1330 50000 CCC]000 for 100000
Sometimes thousands are represented by drawing a
line over the top of the numeral j V being used for
five thousand, L for fifty thousand, CC two hundred
thousand.
Sexagoai- About the year of Christ 200, a new kind of arith-
Nial Arith- metic, cal led sexagesimal^ wras invented, as is supposed,
rwetic. by Claudius Ptolemieus. The design of it was to re¬
medy the difficulties of the common method, especially
with regard to fractions. In this kind of arithmetic,
every unit was supposed to be divided into 60 parts,
and each of these into 60 others, and so on : hence any
number of such parts were called sexagesimalfractions;
and to make the computation in whole numbers more
easy, he made the progression in these also sexagesimal.
Thus from one to 59 were marked in the common
way : then 60 was called a sexagesima prima, or first
sexagesimal integer, and had one single dash over it j so
60 was expressed thus Pj and so on to 59 times 60, or
3540, which was thus expressed LIX\ He now pro¬
ceeded to 60 times 60, which he called a sexagesima
secunda, and was thus expressed I". In like manner,
twice 60 times 60, or 7200, was expressed by IP'j and
so on till he came to 60 times 3600, which was a third
sexagesimal, and expressed thus, V". If any number
less than 60 was joined with these sexagesimals, it was
added in its proper characters without any dash ; thus
I'XV represented 60 and 15, or 75; I'VXXV is four
times 60 and 25, or 265 5 X'Tt'XV, is ten times
3600, twice 60 and 15, or 36, 135, &c. Sexagesimal
fractions were marked by putting the dash at the foot,
or on the left hand of the letter : thus I; or 'I de-
5 noted -g-V ; I;/ or "1 -f-yoo-, &c.
Indian cha- The most perfect method of notation, which we
wfetT5' now use» came into Europe from the Arabians, by
brought ^ie way Spa*n* The Arabs, however, do not pre-
into «se. tend to be the inventors of them, but acknowledge
that they received them from the Indians. Some
there are, indeed, who contend that neither the Arabs
nor the Indians were the inventors, but that they were
found out by the Greeks. But this is by no means
probable ; as Maximus Planudes, who lived towards
the close of the 13th century, is the first* Greek who
makes use of them: and he is plainly not the inventor;
for Dr Wallis mentions an inscription on a chimney
in the parsonage house of Helendon in Northampton¬
shire, where the date is expressed by M° 133, instead
of 1133. Mr Luffkin furnishes a still earlier instance
of their use, in the window of a house, part of which
is a Roman wall, near the market place in Colchester;
where between two carved lions stands an escutcheon
with the figures 1090. Dr Wallis is of opinion that
Histor
these characters must have been used in England at least
as long ago as the year 1050, if not in ordinary affairs,
at least in mathematical ones, and in astronomical tables.
How these characters came to be originally invented by
the Indians wre are entirely ignorant.
The introduction of the Arabian characters in no¬
tation did not immediately put an end to the sexage¬
simal arithmetic. As this had been used in all the
astronomical tables, it was for their sakes retained for
a considerable time. The sexagesimal integers went
first out, but the fractions continued till the invention
of decimals. ^
The oldest treatises extant, upon the theory of arith-Treati«
metic, are the seventh, eighth, and ninth books of Eu-on arith
clid’s Elements, where he treats of proportion and ofmetic.
prime and composite numbers $ both of which have
received improvements since his lime, especially the
former. The next, of whom we know anything, is
Nicomachus the Pythagorean, who wrote a treatise of
the theory of arithmetic, consisting chiefly of the di¬
stinctions and divisions of numbers into classes, as plain,
solid, triangular, quadrangular, and the rest of the figu-
rate numbers as they are called, numbers odd and
even, &c. with some of the more general properties of
the several kinds. This author is, by some, said to have
lived before the time of Euclid ; by others, not long
after. His arithmetic was published at Paris in 1538,
The next remarkable writer on this subject is Boethius,
who lived at Rome in the time of Theodoric the Goth.
He is supposed to have copied most of his works frorw
Nicomachus.
From this time no remarkable writer on arithme¬
tic appeared till about the year 1200, when Jordanus
of Namur wrote a treatise on this subject, which was
published and demonstrated by Joannes Faber Stapu-
lensis in the 15th century, soon after the invention of
printing. The same author also wrote upon the new
art of computation by the Arabic figures, and called
this book Algorismns Demonstratus. Dr Wallis says,
this manuscript is in the Savillian library at Oxford,
but it hath never yet been printed. As learning ad¬
vanced in Europe, so did the knowledge of numbers :
and the writers on arithmetic soon became innumer¬
able. About the year 1464, Regiomontanus, in his
triangular tables, divided the radius into 10,000
parts, instead of 60,000; and thus tacitly expelled the
sexagesimal arithmetic. Part of it, however, still re¬
mains in the division of time, as of an hour into 60
minutes, a minute into 60 seconds, &c. Ramus in
his arithmetic, written about the year 1550, and pub¬
lished by Lazarus Schonerus in 1586, used decimal
periods in carrying on the square and cube roots to
fractions. The same had been done before by our
countrymen Buckley and Record ; but the first who
published an express treatise on decimals was Simon
Stevinius, about the year 1582. As to the circulating
decimals, Dr W allis is the first who took much no¬
tice of them. He is also the author of the arithmetic
of infinites, which has been very usefully applied to
geometry. The greatest improvement, however, which
the art of computation ever received, is the invention
of logarithms. The honour of this invention is un¬
questionably due to Baron Napier of Merchiston in
Scotland, about the end of the 16th or beginning of
th@
Chap. I. A R I T H
Notation the iyth century. By these means arithmetic has ad-
8Bd Nume vanced to a degree of perfection which the ancients
ratIon‘ , could never have imagined possible, much less hoped to
U v attain j and we believe it may now be reckoned one of
those few sciences which have arrived at their utmost
height, and which is in its nature capable of little fur¬
ther improvement.
Chap. I. NOTATION and NUMERATION.
7
The first elements of arithmetic are acquired dur¬
ing our infancy. The idea of one, though the sim¬
plest of any, and suggested by every single object, is
perhaps rather of the negative kind, and consists part¬
ly in the exclusion of plurality, and is not attended to
till that of number be acquired. Two is formed by
placing one object near another 5 three, four, and
every higher number, by adding one continually to
the former collection. As we thus advance from
lower numbers to higher, we soon perceive that there
is no limit to this increasing operation $ and that,
whatever number of objects be collected together,
more may be added, at least, in imagination; so that
we can never reach the highest possible number, nor
approach near it. As we are led to understand and
add numbers by collecting objects, so we learn to di¬
minish them by removing the objects collected j and
if we remove them one by one, the number decreases
through all the steps by which it advanced, till only
one remain, or none at all. When a child gathers as
many stones together as suits his fancy, and then throws
them away, he acquires the first elements of the two
capital operations in arithmetic. The idea of numbers,
which is first acquired by the observation of sensible
objects, is afterwards extended to measures of space
and time, affections of the mind, and other immaterial
qualities. *
Small numbers are most easily apprehended : a child
Aoon knows what two and what three is j but has
not any distinct notion of seventeen. Experience re¬
moves this difficulty in some degree j as we become
accustomed to handle larger collections, we apprehend
clearly the number of a dozen or a score ; but per¬
haps could hardly advance to a hundred without the
aid of classical arrangement, which is the art of form¬
ing so many units into a class, and so many of these
classes into one of a higher kind, and thus advancing
through as many ranks of classes as occasion requires.
If a boy arrange an hundred stones in one row, he
would be tired before he could reckon them ; but if
he placed them in ten rows of ten stones each, he will
reckon an hundred with ease j and if he collect ten
such parcels, he will reckon a thousand. In this case,
ten is the lowest class, a hundred is a class of the se¬
cond rank, and a thousand is a class of the third
rank.
There does not seem to be any number naturally
adapted for constituting a class of the lowest, or any
higher rank, to the exclusion of others. However, as
ten has been universally used for this purpose by the
Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and Arabians, and by all
nations who have cultivated this science, it is proba¬
bly the most convenient for general use. Other scales,
however, may be assumed, perhaps on some occa-
M E T I C. 62
sions, with superior advantage j and the principles of Notation
arithmetic will appear in their full extent, if the stu-and Ntimv-
dent can adapt them to any scale whatever : thus, if ration,
eight were the scale, 6 times 3 would be two classes,' v
and two units, and the number 18 would then be re¬
presented by 22. If 12 were the scale, 5 times 9 would
be three classes and nine units, and 45 would be repre¬
sented by 39, &c.
It is proper, whatever number of units constitutes
a class ol the lower rank, that the same number of
each class should make one of the next higher. This
is observed in our arithmetic, ten being the universal
scale : but it is not regarded in the various kinds of
moneys, weights, and the like, which do not advance
hy any universal measure ; and much of the difficulty
in the practice of arithmetic arises from that irregula¬
rity.
As higher numbers are somewhat difficult to appre¬
hend, we naturally fall on contrivances to fix them in
our minds, and render them familiar: but notwith¬
standing all the expedients we can fall upon, our ideas
of high numbers are still imperfect, and generally far
short of the reality 5 and though we can perform any
computation with exactness, the answer we obtain is
often incompletely apprehended.
It may not be amiss to illustrate, by a few exam¬
ples, the extent of numbers which are frequently
named without being attended to. If a person em¬
ployed in telling money reckon an hundred pieces in
a minute, and continue at work ten hours each day,
he will take seventeen days to reckon a million ; a
thousand men would take 45 years to reckon a bil¬
lion. If we supposed the whole earth to be as well
peopled as Britain, and to have been so from the
creation, and that the whole race of mankind had
constantly spent their time in telling from a heap
consisting of a quadrillion of pieces, they would hard¬
ly have yet reckoned the thousandth part of that quan¬
tity.
All numbers are represented by the ten following
characters.
12 3 4,5 i67 .8>9 0
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,eight, nine, cypher. .
The nine first uve ca\\e& significant figures, ov digits;
and sometimes represent units, sometimes tens, hun¬
dreds, or higher classes. When placed singly, they
denote the simple numbers subjoined to the charac¬
ters. When several are placed together, the first or '
right-hand figure only is to be taken for its simple
value: the second signifies so many tens, the third so
many hundreds, and the others so many higher
classes, according to the order they stand in. And
as it may sometimes he required to express a num¬
ber consisting of tens, hundreds, or higher classes,
without any units or classes of a lower rank annexed;
and as this can only be done by figures standing in
the second, third, or higher place, while there are
none to fill up the lower ones; therefore an additional
character or cypher (o) is necessary, which has no sig¬
nification when placed by itself, but serves to supply the
vacant places, and bring the figures to their proper sta¬
tion.
The following table shows the names and divisions of
the classes.
8.^
S. 4.3- 7-9*s-
to tn to cc
c c n c S3
.2 .2 .2 °
12 '-5 3 3 13
tu, ^ -a ns a
co O H cu ID
-a ^
2 = 532
^ s » J
d § |h
a; -c -n
H - 2
s ^
Jh
H!
2. c. 6.
CD t/>
C
4- 7*
CD CD
G C
O O O G O
s a
£ "a -a
0 2 2
c< rt
a a a
'2-3 2
C OJ «
3 43
I-)
j 3 r—'
2 O ® H
M -5 ^5
O 3
A E I T H
8. 9. 7. 2. 6. 4. 5.
CD iD CD CD CD 03
,“0 ^ -c '■a g .tj
2 S3 C a> a> r;
rt 3 3 43 Ch 1—1
to to to ^3 t-J
2 3 3 2
O O C 3
4= H
M 5
M E T I C. Chap.
sums obtained are easily retained in the memory, it is , , .
neither necessary nor usual to mark them down.' When uIlZ
the numbers consist of more figures than one, we add
the units together, the tens together, and so on. But
il the sum ot the units exceed ten, or contain ten seve¬
ral times, we add the number of tens it contains to the
next column, and only set down the number of units
that are over. In like manner we carry the tens of
every column to the next higher. And the reason of
this is obvious from the value of the places ; since an
unit, in any higher place, signifies the same thing as
ten in the place immediately lower.
3
The first six figures from the right hand are called
the unit period, the next five the million period, after
which the trillion, quadrillion, quintillion, sextillion,
septillion, octillion, and nonillion periods follow in their
order.
It is proper to divide any number, before we reckon
it, into periods and half periods, by different marks.
We then begin at the left hand, and read the figures
in their order, with the names of their places, from the
table. In writing any number, we must be car*eful to
mark the figures in their proper places, and supply the
vacant places with cyphers.
As there are no possible ways of changing numbers,
except by enlarging or diminishing them according to
some given rule, it follows, that the whole art of
arithmetic is comprehended in two operations, Addition
and Subtraction. However, as it is frequently required
to add several equal numbers together, or to subtract
several equal ones from a greater, till it be exhausted,
proper methods have been invented for facilitating
the operation in these cases, and distinguished by the
names of Multiplication and Division ; and these four
rules are the foundation of all arithmetical operations
whatever.
As the idea of number is acquired by observing se¬
veral objects collected, so is that of fractions by observ¬
ing an object divided into several parts. As we some¬
times meet with objects broken into two, three, or more
parts, vve may consider any or all of these divisions
promiscuously, which is done in the doctrine of vulgar
fractions, for which a chapter will be allotted. How¬
ever, since the practice of collecting units into par¬
cels of tens has prevailed universally, it has been found
convenient to follow a like method in the consideration
of fractions, by dividing each unit into ten equal parts,
and each of these into ten smaller parts j and so on.
Numbers divided in this manner are called Decimal
Fractions.
Chap. II. ADDITION.
Addition is that operation by which we find the
amount of two or more numbers. The method of do¬
ing this in simple cases is obvious, as soon as the mean¬
ing of number is known, and admits of no illustra¬
tion. A young learner will begin at one of the num¬
bers, and reckon up as many units separately as there
are in the other, and practice will enable him to do it
at once. It is impossible, strictly speaking, to add
more than two numbers at a time. We must first find
the sum of the first and second ; then we add the third
to that number j and so on. However, as the several
Rule. “ Write the numbers distinctly,
“ units under units, tens under tens j and
“ so on. Then reckon the amount of the
right-hand column. If it be under ten,
“ mark it down. If it exceed ten, mark
“ the units only, and carry the tens to the
ii next place. In like manner, carry the
“ tens of each column to the next, and mark
“ down the full sum of the left-hand co-
“ lumn.”
Example.
346863
876734
123467
3I42I3
712316
438987
279654
3092234
24433
As it is of great consequence in business to perform
addition readily and exactly, the learner ought to
practise it till it become quite familiar. If the learn¬
er can readily add any two digits, he will soon add a
digit to a higher number with equal ease. It is only
to add the unit place of that number to the digit 5
and, if it exceed ten, it raises the amount accordingly.
Thus, because 8 and 6 is 14, 48 and 6 is 54. It will
be proper to mark down under the sums of each co¬
lumn, in a small hand, the figure that is carried to the
next column. I his prevents the trouble of going
over the whole operation again, in case of interrup¬
tion or mistake. If you want to keep the account
clean, mark down the sum and figure you carry on a
separate paper, and after revising them, transcribe the
sum only. After some practice, we ought to acquire
the habit of adding two or more figures at one glance.
This is particularly useful when two figures which
amount to 10, as 6 and 4, or 7 and 3, stand together
in the column.
Every operation in arithmetic ought to be revised,
to prevent mistakes} and as one is apt to fall into the
same mistake, if he revise it in tlje same manner he per¬
formed it, it is proper either to alter the order, or else
to trace back the steps by which the operation advan¬
ced, which will lead us at last to the number we began
with. Eveiy method of proving accounts may be re¬
ferred to one or other of these heads.
ist, Addition may be proven by any of the following
methods : Repeat the operation, beginning at the top of
the column, if you began at the foot when you wrought
it.
2d, Divide the account into several parts; add these
separately, and then add the sums together. If their
amount correspond with the sum of the account, when
added at once, it may be presumed right. This method
is particularly proper when you want to know the sums
of the parts, as well as that of the whole.
3d, Subtract the number successively from the sum }
if the account be right, you will exhaust it exactly, and
find no remainder.
When
Chap.
Addition
II. ARITHMETIC.
When the given number consists of articles of differ-
' ent value, as pounds, shillings, and pence, or the like,
which are called different denominations, the opera¬
tions in arithmetic must be regulated by the value of
the articles. We shall give here a few of the most
useful tables for the learner’s information.
IT. A voirdupois Weight.
16 Drams—i ounce, oz.
16 Ounceszzi pound, lb.
28 Poundsm quarter, qr.
4 Quart.—1 hun. wghc, C.
20 Hun. weight— I ton, T.
I. Sterling Money.
4 Farthingsm penny,
marked d.
12 Pencezrl shilling, s.
20 Shillings—1 pound, L.
Also, 6s. Sd.nrl noble
I2s.m angel
13s. 4d. or two-thirds
of a pounder 1 merk.
Scots money is divided in the same manner as ster¬
ling, and has one twelfth of its value. A pound Scots
is equal to is. 8d. sterling, a shilling Scots to a penny
sterling, and a penny Scots to a twelfth part of a penny
sterling; a merk Scots is two-thirds of a pound Scots,
or 13yd. Sterling.
IV. Apothecaries Weight.
20 Grains=i scruple,
3 Scruplesm dram, 3
8 Dramsm ounce, ^
12 Ounces=:i pound, lt>
III. Ti'oy Weight.
20 Mitesm grain, gr.
24 Grainsm pen.wt,dwt
20 Pennywts=:i ounce, oz
12 Ouncesm pound, lib.
V. English Dry Measure. VI. Scots Dry Measure.
2 Pints—1 quart 4 Lippies=:i peck
4 Quarts =: I gallon 4 Pecksm firlot
2 Gallons^: 1 peck 4 Pirlotszri boll
4 Pecks=i bushel 16 Bolls=i chalder
8 Bushelsizri quarter
VII. English Land Mea
sure.
VIII. Scots Land Mea¬
sure.
30J Square yardszri pole 36 Square ells=:l fall
or perch
40 Poles = 1 rood
4 Roodszri acre
IX. Long Measure.
12 Incheszn foot
3 Feetm yard
Yards—I pole
40 Poles=ri furlong
8 Furlongsrri mile
3 Miles=:i league
40 Falls—1 rood
4 Roodszrl acre
X. Time.
60 Secondsm minute
60 Minutes=i hour
24 Hours = 1 day
7 Days = 1 week
36 5 Days= 1 year
52 Weeks & 1 day= 1 year
625
der, if, any, under the column. For example, if the Addition.
sum of a column of pence be 43, which is three shil- —^—v *
lings and sevenpence, mark 7 under the pence column,
and carry 3 to that of the shillings.
Note 3. Some add the lower denominations after the
following method ; when they have reckoned as many
as amounts to one of the higher denomination, or up¬
wards, they mark a dot, and begin again with the ex¬
cess of the number reckoned above the value of the de¬
nomination. The number of dots shows how many are
carried, and the last reckoned number is placed under
the column.
Examples in Sterling Money.
8
L.145 6
215 3
172 18
645 7
737 2
35 3
9 “
1764 12
780 - -
99 9 9
150 10 -
844 9 7
L. 16 9
169 16 10
36 12
54 7
30 “
7 19 6
707 19 11
14 14 4
84 18
125 3
16 16
62 5
9!
6
ii
8j
In Avoirdupois Weight.
T. C.
1 19
- 14
2 18
- 1
3 1
- 17
- 15
4 6
- 6
6, 4
5 5
qr. lb.
3 26
16
16
27
10
24
18
5
9
4
5
T. C. qr,
3 15 2
3 -
7
2
3
18
1
3
4
6
1
lb.
24
J9
26
10
12
1
7
9
5
4
Rule for Compound Addition. “ Arrange like quan-
“ tides under like, and carry according to the value of
“ the higher place.”
Note 1. When you add a denomination, which con¬
tains more columns than one, and from which you car¬
ry to the higher by 20, 30, or any even number of tens,
first add the units of that column, and mark down their
sum, carrying the tens to the next column ; then add
the tens, and carry to the higher denomination, by the
number of tens that it contains of the lower. For ex¬
ample, in adding shillings, carry by 10 from the units
to the tens, and by 2 from the tens to the pounds.
Note 2. If you do not carry by an even number ol
tens, first find the complete sum of the lower denomi¬
nation, then inquire how many of the higher that sum
contains, and carry accordingly, and mark the remain-
Vol. II. Part II. ^ f
When one page will not contain the whole account,
we add the articles it contains, and write against their
sum Carried forward; and we begin the next page
with the sum of the foregoing, writing against it,
Brought forward.
When the articles fill several pages, and their whole
sum is known, which is the case in transcribing ac¬
counts, it is best to proceed in the following manner:
Add the pages, placing the sums on a separate paper;
then add the sums, and if the amount of the whole be
right, it only remains to find what number should
be placed at the foot and top of the pages. For this
purpose, repeat the sum of the first page on the same
line ; add the sums of the first and second, placing
the amount in a line with the second ; to this add
the sum of the third, placing the amount in a line
with the third. Proceed in the like manner with the
others ; and if the last sum corresponds with the amount
of the page, it is right. These sums are transcribed at
the foot of the respective pages, and tops of the follow¬
ing ones.
4 K - Examples.
626
Addition.
A R I T H
L.134 6
42 3
175 4
42 5
*63 7
J48 5
73 2
Examples.
170
66
73
45
78
12
L. 7c
18
12 13
*5 3
J7
18
L.15
12
7 5
8 -
- 9
- 5
10
L.
L.
L.
1st Page, L. 778 16
2d, 445 14
3d, 151 19
4th, 43 6
5
9
11
L. 778 16 -
1224 10 5
1376 10 2
1419 17 1
L.1419 17 1
Then we transcribe 778I. 16s. at the foot of the first
and top of the second pages, 1224I. 10s. jd. at the foot
of the second and top of the third j and so on.
Chap. III. SUBTRACTION.
Subtraction is the operation by which we take a
lesser number from a greater, and find their difference.
It is exactly opposite to addition, and is performed by
learners in a like manner, beginning at the greater, and
reckoning downwards the units of the lesser. The great¬
er is called the minuend, and the lesser the subtrahend.
If any figure of the subtrahend be greater than the
corresponding figure of the minuend, we add ten to that
of the minuend, and having found and marked the dif¬
ference, we add one to the next place of the subtrahend.
This is called borrowing ten. The reason will appear,
if we consider that, when two numbers are equally in¬
creased by adding the same to both, their difference will
not be altered. When we proceed as directed above,
we add ten to the minuend, and we likewise add one to
the higher place of the subtrahend, which is equal to
ten of the lower place.
Rule. “ Subtract units from units, tens from tens,
“ and so on. If any figure of the subtrahend be greater
“ than the correponding one of the minuend, borrow
“ ten.”
Example. Minuend 173694 738641
Subtrahend 21453 379235
Remainder 152241 359406
To prove subtraction, add the subtrahend and re¬
mainder together 5 if their sum be equal to the minuend
the account is right.
Or subtract the remainder from the minuend. If the
difterence be equal to the subtrahend, the account is
right.
Rule/or Compound Subtraction. “ Place like deno-
“ ruinations under like 5 and borrow, when necessary
according to the value of the higher place.”
Examples.
T , 6*. qr. hb. A. JR. F. E.
J40 3 3 12 3 19 15 2 24 18
7 6 4 3 24 12 2 36 7
L‘m?7 Mn. 9 7 3 23 2 3 28 II
. iNlote I* Ahe reason for borrowing is the same as in
simple subtraction. Thus, in subtracting pence, ive add
M E T I C. Chap. ]
12 pence when necessary to the minuend, and at the Subtr
next step, we add one shilling to the subtrahend. tiw
Note 2. When there are two places in the same de-
nomination, if the next higher contain exactly so many
tens, it is best to subtract the units first, borrowing ten
when necessary j and then subtract the tens, borrowing,
if there is occasion, according to the number of tens in
the higher denomination.
Note 3. If the value of the higher denomination be
not an even number of tens, subtract the units and tens
at once, borrowing according to the value of the higher
denomination.
Note 4. Some choose to subtract the place in the sub¬
trahend, when it exceeds that of the minuend, from the
value of the higher denomination, and add the minuend
to the difterence. This is only a different order of pro¬
ceeding, and gives the same answer.
Note 5. As custom has established the method of pla¬
cing the subtrahend under the minuend, we follow it when
there is no reason for doing otherwise 5 the minuend may
be placed under the subtrahend with equal propriety j
and the learner should be able to work it either way,
with equal readiness, as this last is sometimes more con¬
venient ; of which instances will occur afterwards.
Note 6. The learner should also acquire the habit,
when two numbers are marked down, of placing such
a number under the lesser, that, when added together,
the sum may be equal to the greater. The operation
is the same as subtraction, though conceived in a dif¬
ferent manner, and is useful in balancing accounts and
on other occasions.
It is often necessary to place the sums in different co¬
lumns, in order to exhibit a clear view of what is re¬
quired. For instance, if the values of several parcels of
goods are to be added, and each parcel consists of seve¬
ral articles, the particular articles should be placed in
an inner column, and the sum of each parcel extended
to the outer column, and the total added there.
If any person be owing an account, and has made
some partial payments, the payments must be placed in
an inner column, and their sum extended under that of
the account in the outer column, and subti’acted there.
An example or two will make this plain,
let.] 30 yards linen at 2s. L. 3 — —
45 ditto at is. 6d. 476
120 lb. thread at 4s. L.24
40 ditto at 3s. 6
30 ditto at 2s. 6d. 3 I5
-L.6 7 6
33 15
2d.] 1773.
Jan. 15. Lent James Smith L. 50
22. Lent him further 70
L.40 2 6
Feb. 3. Received in part L. 62
5. Received further
In gold L.io 10
In silver 13
  23 10
L. 120
85 10
Balance due me L.34 10
Chap.
Chap. IV.
A R I T H
Multipli¬
cation.
Chap. IV. MULTIPLICATION.
In multiplication, two numbers are given, and it is
required to find how much the first amounts to, when
reckoned as many times as there are units in the se¬
cond. Thus, 8 multiplied by 5, or 5 times 8, is 40.
The given numbers (8 and 5) are called /actor,?; the
first (8) the multiplicand; the second (5) the multi¬
plier ; and the amount (40) the product.
This operation is nothing else* than addition of the
same number several times repeated. If we mark 8 five
times under each other, and add them, the sum is 40.
But, as this kind of addition is of frequent and extensive
use, in order to shorten the operation, we mark down
the number only once, and conceive it to be repeated
as often as there are units in the multiplier.
For this purpose, the learner must be thoroughly ac¬
quainted with the following multiplication table, which
is composed by adding each digit twelve times.
Twice
1 is 2
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
4
6
8
10
12
M
16
18
20
22
24
Thrice
1 is 3
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
6
9
12
»5
18
21
24
27
3°
33
36
Four times
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
is
4
8
12
16
20
24
28
32
36
40
44
48
Five times
1 is 5
2 10
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
20
25
30
35
40
45
5°
55
60
Six times
1 is 6
2 12
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
18
24
3°
42
48
54
60
66
72
Seven times
1 is 7
2 14
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
21
28
35
42
49
56
63
70
77
84
Eight times
1 is 8
2 16
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
24
32
40
48
56
64
72
80
88
96
Nine times
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
is
9
18
27
36
45
54
63
72
81
90
99
108
Ten times
I is 10
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
20
3o
40
5<=>
60
70
80
90
100
110
120
Eleven times
I is 11
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
22
33
44
55
66
77
88
99
no
121
132
Twelve times
1 is 12
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
24
36
48
60
72
84
96
108
120
122
144
If both factors be under 12, the table exhibits the
product at once. If the multiplier only be under 12,
we begin at the unit place, and multiply the figures in
their order, carrying the tens to the higher place, as in
addition.
Ex. 76859 multiplied by 4, or 76859 added 4 times.
4 76859
  76859
307436 76859
307436
If the multiplier be 10, we annex a cypher to the
multiplicand. If the multiplier be 100, we annex two
cyphers j and so on. The reason is obvious, from the
use of cyphers in notation.
If the multiplier be any digit, with one or more
cyphers on the right hand, we multiply by the figure,
M E T I C.
and annex an equal number of cyphers to the product.
Thus, if it be required to multiply by 50, we first mul-
tiply by 5, and then annex a cypher. It is the same
thing as to add the multiplicand 50 times j and this
might be done by writing the account at large, dividing
the column into 10 parts of 5 lines, finding the sum of
each part, and adding these ten sums together.
It the multiplier consists of several significant figures,
we multiply separately by each, and add the products.
It is the same as if we divided a long account of addi¬
tion into parts corresponding to the figures of the mul¬
tiplier.
Example. To multiply 7329 by 365
73 29 73 29 7329 36645= 5 times.
5 60 300 439740= 60 times.
  > -—- ________ 2198700=300 times.
36645 439740 2198700
627
Multipli¬
cation,
2675085=365 times.
It is obvious that 5 times the multiplicand added to
60 times, and to 300 times, the same must amount to
the product required. In practice, we place the pro¬
ducts at once under each other j and as the cyphers
arising from the higher places of the multiplier are lost
in the addition, we omit them. Hence may be infer¬
red the following
Rule. “ Place the multiplier under the multipli-
“ cand, and multiply the latter successively by the sig-
“ nificant figures of the former 5 placing the right-hand
“ figure of each product under the figure of the multi-
“ plier from which it arises; then add the product.”
Ex.
7329
365
36645
43974
21987
2675085
42785
91
42785
385065
3893435
37846
235
93956
8704
189230 375824
i:i3538 657692
75692 751648
8893810 817793024
A number which cannot be produced by the multi¬
plication of two others is called prime number ; as
3, 5, 7, 11, and many others.
A number which may be produced by the multipli¬
cation of two or more smaller ones, is called a composite
number. For example 27, which arises from the multi¬
plication of 9 by 3 ; and these numbers (9 and 3) are
called the component parts of 27.
Contractions and Varieties in Multiplication.
First, If the multiplier be a composite number, we
may multiply successively by the component parts.
Ex. 7638 by 45 or 5 times 9 7638 1st,
45 9 2d,
38190
30552
342710
5492 by 72
J3759 by 56
  3d* 564I7byI44
68742 4th, 73048 by 84
5 5th, 166549 by 125
  6111,378914 by 54
343710 7th,520813 by 63
Because the second'product is equal to five times the
first, and the first is equal to nine times the multi-
4 K 2 plicand^
628
A R I T H
Multipli- plicand, it is obvious that the second product must be
cation. five times nine, or forty-five times as great as the mul-
"" tiplicand.
Secondly, If the multiplier be 5, which is the half
of 10, we may annex a cypher, and divide by 2. If
it be 25, which is the fourth part of 100, we may
annex two cyphers, and divide by 4. Other con¬
tractions of the like kind will readily occur to the
learner.
Thirdly, To multiply by 9, which is one less than
10, we may annex a cypher ; and subtract the multi¬
plicand from the number it composes. To multiply
by 99,999, or any number of 9’s, annex as many cy¬
phers, and subtract the multiplicand. The reason is
obvious ; and a like rule may be found, though the
unite place be different from 9.
Fourthly, Sometimes a line of the product is more
easily obtained from a former line of the same than from
the multiplicand.
Ex. 1st.]
*372
84
2d.]
5488
10976
115248
1348
 36
8088
4044
48528
In the first example, instead of multiplying by 5, we
may multiply 5480 by 2 ; and, in the second, instead
of multiplying by 3, we may divide 8088 by 2.
I ifthly, Sometimes the product of two or more figures
may be obtained at once, from the product of a figure
already found.
Ex. 1st.] 14356
648
114848
918784
9302688
2d.] 3462321
96484
13849284
166191408
332382816
334058579364
In the second example, we multiply first by 4 5 then
because 12 times 4 is 48, we multiply the'first line
of the product by 12, instead of multiplying separately
7 ^ a!1(J 4 5 lastly, because twice 48 is 96, we multi-
ply the second line of the product by 12, instead of mul-
tiplying separately by 6 and 9.
When we follow this method, we must be careful to
place the right-hand figure of each product under the
right-hand figure of that part of the multiplier which it
i^denved from.
It would answer equally well in all cases, to begin
the work at the highest place of the multiplier ; and
contractions are sometimes obtained by following that
Ex. 1st.] 3125
642
18750
J 2500
6250
or
3!25
642
2d.]
32452
52575
2006250
18750
131250
2000250
162260
811300
2433900
1706163900
Mnltip]
tatioi]i
M E T I C. Chap, r
It is a matter of indifference which of the factors
be used as the multiplier j for 4 multiplied by 3 gives
the same product as 3 multiplied by 4 ; and the like
holds universally true. To illustrate this, we may
make three rows of points, four in each ....
row, placing the rows under each other; . * . .
and we shall have also four rows, con- ....
taining three points each, if we reckon the rows down¬
wards.
Multiplication is proven by repeating the operation,
using the multiplier,for the multiplicand, and the mul-
tiplicand for the multiplier. It may also be proven by
division, or by casting out the 9’s ; of which after¬
wards j and an account, wrought by any contraction,
may be proven by performing the operation at large, or
by a different contraction.
Compound Multiplication.
Rule I. “ If the multiplier do not exceed 12, the
u operation is performed at once, beginning at the
“ lowest place, and carrying according to the value of
“ the place.”
[Examples.] Cwt. qr. lb. A. R. P. Lb.oz.dwt.
•L. 13 6 7 12 2 8 13 3 18 759
9 5 6 12
L.H9 19 3 62 3 12 83—28 89 5 8
Rule II. “ If the multiplier be a composite number,
“ whose component parts do not exceed 12, multiply
“ first by one of these parts, then multiply the product
“ by the other. Proceed in the same manner if there
“ be more than two.”
Ex. 1st.] L. 15 3
8 by 32=8x4
8
L.
121
4 = 8 times.
4
L.485 17 4 = 32 times.
2d.] L. 17 3 8 by 75=5x5X3
3
L.
51 i1
- = 3 times.
5
L.257 I5 ” — J5 times.
5
L.1288 15 — = 75 times.
Note 1. Although the component parts will an¬
swer in any order, it is best, when it can be done, to
take them in such*order as may clear off some of the
lower places at the first multiplication, as is done in
Ex. 2d.
Note 2. The operation may be proved, by taking
the component parts in a different order, or dividing the
multiplier in a different manner.
Rule HI. “ If the multiplier be a prime number,
“ multiply first by the composite number next lower,
“ then by the difierence, and add the products.”
L.
Chap.
Multipli¬
cation.
IV.
1“ 35 *7 9ty 67=64+3
8
L. 287
2 —=8 times.
8
L.2296 16 -—64 times.
i°7 13 3=z 3 times.
L.2404 9 3=67 times.
A R I T H
Here because 8 times 8
64= 8x8 is 64, we multiply twice
by 8, which gives 2296I.
16s. equal to 64 times the
multiplicand j then we find
the amount of 3 times the
multiplicand, which is
107I. 13s. 3d.; and it is
evident that these added,
amount to 67, the multi¬
plicand.
Rule IV. “ If there be a composite number a lit-
“ tie above the multiplier, we may multiply by that
“ number, and by the difference, and subtract the se-
“ cond product from the first.”
L. 17 4 5 by 109=108— 2 Here we multiply
12 108+ 9 X 12 by 12 and 9, the com-
    ponent parts of 108,
I>. 206 13 — and obtain a product
9 of 1860I. 6s. equal to
108 times the multi¬
plicand j and, as this
is twice oftener than
was required, vvesub-
tract the multipli¬
cand doubled, and
the remainder is the
number sought.
Example. 34I. 8s. 2^d. by 3465.
Rule. V. “ If the multiplier be large, multiply by
“ 10, and multiply the product again by 10 j by
“ which means you obtain an hundred times the given
“ number. If the multiplier exceed 1000, multiply
“ by 10 again; and continue it farther, if the multi-
“ plier require it; then multiply the given number
“ by the unit place of the multiplier ; the first product
“ by the ten-place, the second product by the hun-
“dred-place; and so on. Add the products thus ob-
“ tained together.”
•k' 34 8 2-| by 5=11.. V]2 1 o{— 5 times
10
L. 1859 17 —=108 times.
34 8 10= 2 times.
L.1825 8 2=206 times.
10 times 1>. 344 2
1 by 6~ 2064 12
10
6 — 60 times
ico times L. 3441
10 by 4= 13764
to
3 4
400 times
1000 times .L.34410 8 ’ 4 by 3=103231 5 — =3000 times
L.H9232 9 10-1=3465 times
The use of multiplication is to compute the amount
of any number of equal articles, either in respect of
measure, weight, value, or any other consideration.
The multiplicand expresses how much is to be rec¬
koned for each article ; and the multiplier expresses
how many times that is to be reckoned. As the
multiplier points out the number of articles to be
added, it is always an abstract number, and has no
reference to any value or measure whatever. It is
therefore quite improper to attempt the multiplica¬
tion of shillings by shillings, or to consider the multi¬
plier as expressive of any denomination. The most
uouiiiioo instances in which the practice of this opera¬
tion is required, are, to find the amount of any
number of parcels, to find the value of any number of
articles, to find the weight or measure of a number of
articles, &c.
M E T I C. 629
This computation, for changing any sum of money, p)jv;s;on
weight, or measure, into a different kind, is called » “■
Reduction. When the quantity given is expressed
in different denominations, we reduce the highest to
the next lower, and add thereto the given number of
that denomination ; and proceed in like manner till we
have reduced it to the lowest denomination.
Example. To reduce 46I. 13. 8|d. to farthings.
L. 46
20 Or thus :
920 shillings in L.46
*3
L. 46 13 4!
20
933 shillings in L.46 13 933
12 - 12
11196 pence in L.46 13 11204
8 4
11204 pence in L.46 13 8 44819
4
44186 farthings in L.46 13 8
44819 farthings in L.46 13 8%
It is easy to take in or add the higher denomination
at the same time we multiply the lower.
Chap. V. DIVISION.
In division, two numbers are given ; and it is re¬
quired to find how often the former contains the lat¬
ter. Thus, it may be asked how often 21 contains 7,
and the answer is exactly 3 times. The former given
number (21) is called the Dividend; the latter (7) the
Divisor ; and the number required (3) the Quotient. It
frequently happens that the division cannot be com¬
pleted exactly without fractions. Thus it may be ask¬
ed, how often 8 is contained in 19 ? the answer is
twice, and the remainder of 3.
This operation consists in subtracting the divisor from
the dividend, and again from the remainder, as often as
it can be done, and reckoning the number of subtrac¬
tions
, as,
21
7 first subtraction
7 second subtraction
7 third subtraction.
IQ
8 first subtraction
8 second subtraction
3 remainder.
As this operation, performed at large, would be
very tedious, when the quotient is a high number, it
is proper to shorten it by every convenient method ;
and, for this purpose, w'e may multiply the divisor
by any number whose product is not greater than
the dividend, and so subtract it twice or thrice, or
oftener at the same time. The best way is to mul¬
tiply it by the greatest number, that does not raise
the product too high, and that number is also the
quotient. For example, to divide 45 by 7, we in¬
quire what is the greatest multiplier for 7, that does
not
2
6so
A R I T H
Division, not give a product above 45 j and we shall find that
 r—^ It is 6 ; and 6 times 7 is 42, which, substracted from
45, leaves a remainder of 3. Therefore 7 may be
substracted 6 times from 45 ; or, which is the same
thing, 45 divided by 7, gives a quotient of 6, and a
remainder of three.
If the divisor do not exceed 12, we readily find the
highest multiplier that can be used from the multi¬
plication table. If it exceed 12, we may try any multi¬
plier that we think will answer. If the product be
greater than the dividend, the multiplier is too great ;
and if the remainder, after the product is substracted
from the dividend, be greater than the divisor,
the- multiplier is too small. In either of these cases,
we must try another. But the attentive learner, after
some practice, will generally hit on the right multiplier
at first.
If the divisor be contained oftener than ten times in
the dividend, the operation requires as many steps as
there are figures in the quotient. For instance, if the
quotient be greater than 100, but less than 1000, it
requires 3 steps. We first inquire how many hundred
times the divisor is contained in the dividend, and sub¬
tract the amount of these hundreds. Then we in¬
quire how often it is contained ten times in the remain¬
der, and subtract the amount of these tens. Lastly,
We inquire how many single times it is contained in
the remainder. The method of proceeding will appear
from the following example :
To divide 5936 by 8.
From 5936
Take 5600=700 times 8.
Rem.
From which take
Rem.
From which take
336
320=
16
16 =
40 times 8.
2 times 8.
o 742 times 8 in all.
It is obvious, that as often as 8 is contained in 59,
so many hundred times it will be contained in 5900,
or in 5936} and, as often as it is contained in 33, so
many ten times it will be contained in 330, or in
356 ; and thus the higher places of the quotient will
be obtained with equal ease as the lower. The ope¬
ration might be performed by substracting 8 conti¬
nually from the dividend, which will lead to the same
conclusion by a very tedious process. After 700 sub¬
tractions, the remainder would be 336; after 40 more,
it would be 16 j and after 2 more, the dividend would
be entirely exhausted. In practice, we omit the cy¬
phers, and proceed by the following
Rules. 1st, “ Assume as many figures on the left
“ hand of the multiplier as contain the divisor once
“ or oftener: find how many times they contain it,
“ and place the answer as the highest figure of the
“ quotient.
2d, “ Multiply the divisor by the figure you have
“ found, and place the product under the part of the
“ dividend from which it is obtained.
3d, “ Substract the product from the figures above it.
4th, “ Bring down the next figure of the dividend
u to the remainder, and divide the number it makes up,
“ as before.”
M E T I C.
Examples.'} 1st. 8)5936(742
56..
Chap. \
2d. 63)30114(748
252. .
Division
33
32
16
16
3d. 365)974932067i tYt
730 . ..
2449
2190
2593
2555
Remainder
382
365
*7
The numbers which we divide, as 59, 33, and 16,
in the first example, are called dividuals.
It is usual to mark a point under the figures of the
dividend, as they are brought down, to prevent mis¬
takes.
If there be a remainder, the division is completed
by a vulgar fraction, whose numerator is the remainder,
and its denominator the divisor. Thus, in Ex. 3. the
quotient is 2671, and the remainder 17 j and the quo¬
tient completed is 267
A number which divides another without a remain¬
der is said to measure it j and the several numbers
which measure another, are called its aliquot parts.
Thus, 2, 4, 6, 8, and 12, are aliquot parts of 24.
As it is often useful to discover numbers which mea¬
sure others, we may observe,
1st, Every number ending with an even figure, that
is, with 2, 4, 6, 8, or o, is measured by 2.
2d, Every number ending with 5 or c, is measured
by 5-
3d, Every number, whose figures, when added, a-
mount to an even number of 3’s or 9’s, is measured by
3 or 9, respectively.
Contractions and Virieties in Division.
First, When the divisor does not exceed 12, the whole
computation may be performed without setting down
any figures except the quotient.
Ex. 7)35868 (5124 or 7)35868
5I24
Secondly, when the divisor is a composite number*
and one of the component parts also measures the di¬
vidend, wre may ’divide successively by the component
parts.
Ex. 1st.] 30114 by63 2d.] 975 by 105=5x7X3
9)30“4 5)975
^ . 7) 3346 3)195
Quotient 478 7) 65
Quotient 94
This method might be also used, although the com¬
ponent parts of the divisor do not measure the di¬
vidend ; but the learner will not understand how to
manage
Chap. V. A K I T H
Division, manage the remainder till he be acquinted with ^the
u—y-—-' doctrine of vulgar fractions.
Thirdly, When there are cyphers annexed to the
divisor, cut them off, and cut oft'an equal number of
figures from the dividend ; annex those figures to the
remainder. Ex. To divide 378643 by 5200.
52!oo)3786|43(7
364 •
M E T I C.
631
4243
The reason will appear by performing the operation
at large, and comparing the steps.
To divide by 10, 100, 1000, or the like. Cut off
as many figures on the right hand of the dividend as
there are cyphers in the divisor. The figures which
remain on the left hand compose the quotient, and the
figures cut off" compose the remainder.
Fourthly, When the divisor consists of several fi¬
gures, we may try them separately, by inquiring how
often the first figure of the divisor is contained in the
first figure of the dividend, and then considering whe¬
ther the second and following figures of the divisor be
contained as often in the corresponding ones of the di¬
vidend with the remainder (if any) prefixed. If not,
we must begin again, and make trial of a lower num¬
ber. When the remainder is nine, or upwards, we
may be sure the division will hold through the lower
places ; and it is unnecessary to continue the trial far¬
ther.
Fifthly, We may make a table of the products of
the divisor, multiplied by the nine digits, in order to
discover more readily how often it is contained in each
dividual. This is convenient when the dividend is very
long, or when it is required to divide frequently by the
same divisor.
73 by 2
3
4
5
6
7
= 146
= 216
=r 292
=
= 43 8
= 511
8 = 584
9 = 657
73)53872694(737982
511 
Rem.
155
146
8
figures which remain on the left hand compose the quo- Division.
tient, and those cut off the remainder. v—.—v '
If there be any carriage to the unit place of the quo¬
tient, add the number carried likewise to the remain¬
der, as in Ex. 2. j and if the figures cut off be all p’s,
add 1 to the quotient, and there is no remainder.
Examples. 1st] 99)324123 2d.]99)547825
324£ 547s
32 54
^ . 3273l96 5533157
Quotient 3273 and rem. 96. 1
Sixthly, To divide by 9, 99, 999, or any number
of 9’s, transcribe under the dividend part of the
same, shifting the highest figure as many places to
the right hand as there are 9’s in the divisor. Tran¬
scribe it again, with the like change of place, as often
as the length of the dividend admits^ add these to¬
gether, and cut off as many figures from the right
hand of the sum as there are 9’s in the divisor. The
3
3d.] 999)476523
476
47^999
x
Quotient 5533.58 rem.
Quotient 477
To explain the reason of this, we must recollect,
that whatever number of hundreds any dividend con¬
tains, it contains an equal number of 99% together
with an equal number of units. In Ex. 1. the divi¬
dend contains 3241 hundreds, and a remainder of 23.
It therefore contains 3241 times 99, and also 3241,
besides the remainder already mentioned.—Again,
3241 contains 32 hundreds, and a remainder of 41 : it
therefore contains 32 99’s, and also 32, besides the re¬
mainder of 41. Consequently the dividend contains
99, altogether, 3241 times, and 32 times, that is, 3273
times, and the remainder consists of 23, 41, and 32,
added, which makes 96.
As multiplication supplies the place of frequent ad¬
ditions, and division of frequent substractions, they are
only repetitions and contractions of the simple rules,
and when compared together, their tendency is ex¬
actly opposite. As numbers, increased by addition,
are diminished and brought back to their original quan¬
tity by subtraction ; in like manner, numbers com¬
pounded by multiplication are reduced by division to
the parts from which they were compounded. The
multiplier shows how many additions are necessary to
produce the number; and the quotient shows how
many subtractions are necessary to exhaust it. It
follows, that the product, divided by the multipli¬
cand, will quote the multiplier •, and because either
factor may be assumed for the multiplicand, therefore,
the product divided by either factor, quotes the other.
It follows, also, that the dividend is equal to the pro¬
duct of the divisor and quotient multiplied together;
and hence these operations mutually prove each 0-
ther.
To prove multiplication. Divide the product by
either factor. If the operation be right, the quotient
is the other factor, and there is no remainder.
To prove division. Multiply the divisor and quo¬
tient together ; to the product add the remainder, if
any ; and, if the operation be right, it makes up the
dividend. Otherwise divide the dividend (alter sub¬
tracting the remainder, if any) by the quotient. E
the operation be right, it will quote the divisor. I !>e
reason of all those rules may be collected from the last
paragraph.
Compound >
632
■Dirision.
A R I T H
Compound Division.
Rule I. “ When the dividend only consists of dif-
“ ferent denominations, divide the higher denomina-
“ tion, and reduce the remainder to the next lower,
“ taking in (p. 629. Rule V.) the given number of
“ that denomination, and continue the division.”
Examples.
Divide L.46C : 12 : 8
by 72.
L. s. d. L. s. d.
72)465 12 8 (6 9 4
432 . . .
33
20
72)672
648
24
14
72)296
288
8 Rem.
Divide 345 cwt. I q. 8 lb.
by 22.
Cwt. q. lb. Cwt. q. lb.
22)345 18 (15 2 21
22 . . .
Or we might divide by 22)484
the component parts of 44
72, (as explained under ..
Thirdly, p. 631). 44
44
o
Rule II. “ When the divisor is in different deno¬
minations, reduce both divisor and dividend to the
‘ lowest denomination, and proceed as in simple di-
“ vision. The quotient is an abstract number.”
20 lb.
To divide 381. 13s.
by 31* 4s- id.
L.3 4 5 L.38 13
20
64
12
773
20
773
12
To divide 96 cwt. 1 q.
by 3 cwt. 2q. 81b.
Cwt. q. lb. Cwt. q.
3 2 8 ) 96 I
T4
28
lb.
20
)9276(i2 quote. 120
773 28
1546
i546
4jo° )io8|oo(27quote.
It is best not to reduce the terms lower than is ne¬
cessary to render them equal. For instance, if each of
them consists of an even number of sixpences, four-
pences, or the like, we reduce them to sixpences, or
tourpences, but not to pence.
The use of division is to find either of the factors
by whose multiplication a given number is produced,
M E T I C. Chap. \
when the other factor is given ; and therefore is of Dhisk,-
two kinds, since either the multiplier or the multipli- \—
cand may be given. If the former be given, it disco¬
vers what that number is which is contained so many
times in another. If the latter be given, it discovers
how many times one number is contained in another.
Thus, it answers the questions of an opposite kind to
those mentioned under Rule IV. p. 629. as, To find
the quantity of a single parcel or share ; to find the
value, weight, or measure, of a single article; to find
how much work is done, provisions consumed, interest
incurred, or the like, in a single day, &c.
The last use of division is a kind of reduction ex¬
actly opposite to that described under Rule V. p. 629.
The manner of conducting and arranging it, when
there are several denominations in the question, will
appear from the following examples.
1. To reduce I5783 Pence, 2. To reduce 174865 grs.
to pounds, sh. and pence, to lb. oz. and dwt. Troy.
20
12)15783(1315(65
12 * * * 120•
37
36
18
12
63
60
115
100
r5
20 12
24)174865(7286(364(30
168 • • • 60 • • 36 •
68 128 04
48 120
Answer, 65I. 159. 3d. Ans. 381b. 4 oz. 6dwt. 1 gr.
In the first example, we reduce 15783 pence to shil¬
lings, by dividing by 12, and obtain 1315 shillings,
and a remainder of 3 pence. Then we reduce 1315
shillings to pounds, by dividing by 20, and obtain 65
pounds and a remainder of 15 shillings. The divisions
might have been contracted.
In the practice of arithmetic, questions often occur
which require both multiplication and division to re¬
solve. This happens in reduction, when the higher
denomination does not contain an exact number of the
lower.
Rule for mixed reduction. “ Reduce the given de-
“ nomination by multiplication to some lower one,
“ which is an aliquot part of both j then reduce that
“ by division to the denomination required.”
Ex. Reduce 31742I. to guineas.
Here we multiply by
20, which reduces the
pounds to shillings $ and
divide the product by 21,
which reduces the shillings
to guineas.
3*742
20
21)634840^30230
63 * * * ‘
Answer, 30230 guineas and 10 shillings.
As
nap.
i vision.
V.
ARITHMETIC.
633
= L.
7
!3
6
12
16
= - 1a -
4
As Portuguese money frequently passes here in pay¬
ments, we shall give a table of the pieces, and their
value. A moidore
A half moidore
A quarter moidore
A double Joannes
A Joannes
A half ditto
A quarter ditto
An eighth ditto
Note I. Guineas may be reduced to pounds, by add¬
ing one-twentieth part of the number.
2. Pounds may be reduced to merks by adding one
half.
3. Merks may be reduced to pounds by subtracting
one-third.
4. Four moidores are equal to three Joannes : where¬
fore moidores may be reduced to Joannes, by subtract¬
ing one-fourth ; and Joannes to moidores, by adding
one-third.
5. Five Joannes are equal to pi. Hence it is easy
to reduce Portuguese money to sterling.
Another case, which requires both multiplication
and division, is, when the value, weight, measure, or
duration of any quantity is given, and the value, &c.
of a different quantity required, we first find the value,
&c. of a single article by division, and then the value,
Sec. of the quantity required, by multiplication.
Ex. If 3 yards cost 15s. pd. what will 7 yards cost,
at the same rate ?
s. d.
3) 15 9 Price of 3 yards.
5 3 Price of 1 yard, by Rule IV. p. 629.
7
L. 1 16 9 Price of 7 yards (by par. ult. p. 632.
COl. Ir).
Many other instances might be adduced, where the
operation, and the reason of it, are equally obvious.
These are generally, though unnecessarily, referred to
the rule of Proportion.
We shall now ofl'er a general observation on all the
operations in arithmetic. When a computation re¬
quires several steps, we obtain a just answer, whatever
order we follow. Some arrangements may be prefer¬
able to others in point of ease, but all of them lead to
the same conclusion. In addition, or subtraction, we
may take the articles in any order, as is evident from
the idea of number; or, we may collect them into se¬
veral sums, and add or subtract these, either separately
or together. When both the simple operations are re¬
quired to be repeated, we may either complete one of
them first, or may introduce them promiscuously, and
the compound operations admit of the same variety.
When several numbers are to be multiplied together,
we may take the factors in any order, or we may ar¬
range them into several classes, find the product of each
class, and then multiply the products together. When
a number is to be divided by several others, we may
take the divisors in any order, or we may multiply them
into each other, and divide by the product j or we may
multiply them into several parcels, and divide by the
products successively. Lastly, When multiplication and
division are both required, we may begin with either ;
and when both are repeatedly necessary, we may collect
Vol. II. Part II. f
the multipliers into one product, and the divisors into Division,
another j or, we may collect them into parcels, or use —v—^
them singly, and that in any order. Still we shall obtain
the proper answer, if none of the terms be neglected.
When both multiplication and division are necessary
to obtain the answer of a question, it is generally best
to begin with the multiplication, as this order keeps the
account as clear as possible from fractions. The exam¬
ple last given may be wrought accordingly as follows :
s. d.
9
7
3)5 10 3
1 16 9
Some accountants prove the operations of arithmetic
by a method which they call casting out the 9’s, de¬
pending on the following principles t
First, If several numbers be divided by any divisor:
(the remainders being always added to the next num¬
ber), the sum of the quotients, and the last remainder,
will be the same as those obtained when the sum of
the number is divided by the same divisor. Thus,
19, 15, and 23, contain, together, as many 5’s, as ma¬
ny 7’s, &c. as their sum 57 does, and the remainders
are the same ; and, in this way, addition may be pro¬
ven by division. It is from the correspondence of the
remainders, that the 4>roof by casting out the 9’s is de¬
duced.
Secondly, If any figure with cyphers annexed, be
divided by 9, the quotient consists entirely of that fi¬
gure and the remainder is also the same. Thus, 40,
divided by 9, quotes 4, remainder 4 $ and 400 divided
by 9, quotes 44, remainder 4. The same holds with
all the digits j and the reason will be easily under¬
stood : every digit, with a cypher annexed, contains
exactly so many tens $ it must therefore contain an
equal number of 9’s, besides a remainder of an equal
number of units.
Thirdly, If any number be divided by 9, the re¬
mainder is equal to the sum of the figures ol the num¬
ber, or to the remainder obtained, when that sum is
divided by 9. For instance, 3765* divided by 9,
leaves a remainder of 3 5 and the sum of 3, 7, 6, and
5, is 21, which divided by 9, leaves a remainder of
3. The reason of this will appear from the following
illustration :
3000 divided by quotes 333 $ remainder 3
' 700 quotes 77 $ remainder 7
60 quotes 6 5 remainder 6
5 quotes o $ remainder $
2765 4i6Sumofrem. 21
' Again : 21 divided by 9 quotes 2 $ remainder 3
wherefore, 3765 divided by 9 quotes 4185 remainder 3 ;
for the reason given. Hence we may collect the fol¬
lowing rules for practice,
To cast the 9’s out of any number, or to find what
remainder will be left when any number is divided by
9 : Add the figures 5 and when the sum exceeds 9,
add the figures which would express it. Pass by the
9’s 5 and. when the sum comes exactly to 9, neglect
it, and begin anew. For example, if it be required,
to cast the 9’s out of 3573294, we reckon thus $ 3 and
4 L J is
634
A R I T H
Division. 5 is 8, and 7 is 15 5 I and 5 is 6, and 3 is 9, which we
11 v——' neglect j 2 and (passing by 9) 4 is 6 j which is the re¬
mainder or Result. If the article out of which the
9’s are to be cast contains more denominations than one,
we cast the 9’s out of the higher, and multiply the re¬
sult by the value of the lower, and carry on the product
(casting out the 9’s, if necessary), to the lower.
To prove addition, cast the 9’s out of the several ar¬
ticles, carrying the results to the following articles;
cast them also out of the sum. If the operation be
right, the results will agree.
To prove subtraction, cast the 9’s out of the minuend j
cast them also out of the subtrahend and remainder to¬
gether; and if you obtain the s^me result, the operation
is presumed right.
To prove multiplication, cast the 9’s out of the mul-
tiplicaKd, and also out of the multiplier, if above 9*
Multiply the results together, and cast the 9’s, if neces¬
sary, out of their product. Then cast the 9’s out of the
product, and observe if this result correspond with the
former.
Ex. ist.] 9276 res. 6x83:48 res. 3.
8
74208 res. 3.
2d.] 7898 res. 5x3=15 res. 6.
48 res. 3
63184
31592
379104 res. 6.
T.he reason of this will be evident, if we consider
multiplication under the view of repeated addition.
In the first example it is obviously the same. In the
second, we may suppose the multiplicand repeated 48
times. If this be done, and the 9’s cast out, the re¬
sult, at the end of the 9th line, will be o j for any
number, repeated 9 times, and divided by 9, leaves
no remainder. The same must happen at the end of
the 18th, 27th, 36th, and 45th lines; and the last re¬
sult will be the same as if the multiplicand had only
been repeated 3 times. This is the reason for casting
out the 9’s from the multiplier as well as the multipli¬
cand.
-To prove division, cast the p's out of the divisor, and
also out of the quotient; multiply the results, and cast
the 9’s out of the product. If there be any remainder,
add to it the result, easting out the 9’s, if necessary.
If the account be right, the last result will agree with
that obtained from the dividend.
Ex.Jl
42) 2490 (59 res. 5x6=30 res. 3.
res. 6 210
39°
378
Rem.12
res. 3.
And the result of the dividend is 6
This depends on the same reason as the last; for the
dividend is equal to the product of the divisor and
quotient added to the remainder^
3.
M E T I C. Chap. "V
YVe cannot recommend this method, as it lies under Divisio
the following disadvantages. v—
First, If an error of 9, or any of its multiples, be
committed, the results will nevertheless agree ; and so
the error will remain undiscovered. And this will al¬
ways be the case, when a figure is placed or reckoned
in a wrong column ; which is one of the most frequent
causes of error.
Secondly, When it appears by the disagreement of
the results, that an error has been committed, the parti¬
cular figure or figures in which the error lies are not
pointed out; and, consequently, it is not easily corrected.
Chap. VI. RULE OF PROPORTION.
Sect. I. Simple Proportion.
Quantities are reckoned proportional to each other,
when they are connected in such a manner, that if one
of them be increased or diminished, the other increases
or diminishes at the same time ; and the degree of the
alteration on each is a like part of its original measure ;
thus four numbers are in the same proportion, the first
to the second as the third to the fourth, when the first
contains the second, or any part of it, as often as the
third contains the fourth, or the like part of it. In ei¬
ther of these cases, the quotient of the first, divided by
the second, is equal to that of the third divided by the
fourth: and this quotient may be called the measure of
the proportion.
Proportionals are marked down in the following
manner:
6 : 3 :: 8 : 4
12 : 36 :: 9 : 27
9 : 6 :: 24 : 18
16 : 24 :: 10 : 15
The rule of Proportion directs us, when three num¬
bers are given, how to find a fourth, to which the third
may have the same proportion that the first has to the
second. It is sometimes called the Rule of Three, from
the three numbers given ; and sometimes the Golden
Rule, from its various and extensive utility.
Rule. “ Multiply the second and third terms toge-
“ ther, and divide the product by the first.”
Ex. To find a fourth proportional to 18, 27, and 34,
18 : 27 34 : 51
34
18)918(51
90
18
18
To explain the reason of this, we must observe that
if two or more numbers be multiplied or divided alike,
the products or quotients will have the same propor¬
tion.
J8 : 27
Multiplied by 34, 612 : 918
Divided by 18, 34 : 51
13
The
Chap. VI.
Proportion. The products 612, 918, and the quotients 34, 51,
1^. i I../ have therefore the same proportion to each other that
18 has to 27. In the course of this operation, the pro¬
ducts of the first and third term are divided by the first;
therefore the quotient is equal to the third.
The first and second terms must always be of the
same kind ; that is, either both moneys, weights, mea¬
sures, both abstract numbers, or the like. The fourth,
or number sought, is of the same kind as the third.
When any of the terms is in more denominations
than one, we may reduce them all to the lowest. But
this is not always necessary. The first and second
should not be reduced lower than directed p. 632. col. i.
par. penult.; and, when either the second or third is a
simple number, the other, though in different denomi¬
nations, may be multiplied without reduction.
L. s. d.
Ex. s : 7 :: 2S 11 3
7
.. . ■— L. s. d.
5) 178 18 9 (35 !9 9
The accountant must consider the nature of every
question, and observe the circumstance which the pro¬
portion depends on ; and common sense will direct him
to this if the terms of the question be understood. It is
evident that the value, weight, and measure of any com¬
modity is proportioned to its quantity ; that the amount
of work or consumption is proportioned to the time 5
that gain, loss, or interest, when the rate and time are
fixed, is proportioned to the capital sum from which it
arises j and that the effect produced by any cause is
proportioned to the extent of the cause. In these, and
many other cases, the proportion is direct, and the num¬
ber sought increases or diminishes along with the term
from which it is derived.
In some questions, the number sought becomes less,
when the circumstances from which it is derived be¬
come greater. Thus, when the price of goods in¬
creases, the quantity which may be bought for a given
sum is smaller. When the number of men employed
at work is increased, the time in which they may com¬
plete it becomes shorter; and, when the activity of any
cause is increased, the quantity necessary to produce a
given effect is diminished. In these, and the like, the
proportion is said to be inverse.
General Rule for stating all questions, whether
direct or inverse. “ Place that number for the third
“ term which signifies the same kind of thing with
“ what is sought, and consider whether the number
“ sought will be greater or less. If greater, place the
“ least of the other terms for the first; but, if less,
“ place the greatest for the first.”
Ex. 1st.] If 30 horses plough 12 acres, how many
will 42 plough in the same time ?
H. H. A.
30 :: 42 :: 12
Here, because the thing sought is a number of acres,
we place 12, the given number of acres, for the third
term; and, because 42 horses will plough more than
12, we make the lesser number 30, the first term, and
the greater number, 42, the second term.
Ex. 2d.] If 40 horses be maintained for a certain
sum on hay, at jd. per stone, how many will be
. . 635
maintained on the same sum when the price of hay rises Pronortion.
to 8d. ^ 
d. d. H.
8 : 5 :: 40
Here, because a number of horses is sought, we make
the given number of horses, 40, the third term ; and,
because fewer will be maintained for the same money,
when the price of hay is dearer, we make the greater
price, 8d. the first term $ and the lesser price yd. the se¬
cond term.
The first of these examples is direct, the second in¬
verse. Every question consists of a supposition and
demand. In the first, the supposition is, that 30 horses
plough 12 acres, and the demand how many 42 will
plough? and the first term of the proportion, 30, is
found in the supposition, in this and every other direct
question. In the second, the supposition is, that 40
horses are maintained on hay at yd. and the demand,
how many will he maintained on hay at 8d. ? and the
first term of the proportion, 8, is found in the demand,
in this and every other inverse question.
When an account is stated, if the first and second
term, or first and third, be measured by the same num¬
ber, we may divide them by that measure, and use the
quotients in their stead.
Ex. If 36 yards cost 42 shillings, what will 27 cost ?
Y. Y. sh. Here 36 and 27 are both
36 : 27 :: 42 measured by 9, and we work
4 : 3 :: 42 with the quotients 4 and 3.
—— s. d.
4)126(31 6
Sect. II. Compound Proportion. 14
Sometimes the proportion depends upon several cir¬
cumstances. Thus, it may be asked, if 18 men con¬
sume 6 bolls corn in 28 days, how much will 24 men
consume in y6 days ? Here the quantity required de¬
pends partly on the number of men, partly on the time 5
and the question may be resolved into the two follorv-
ing ones:
1st, If 18 men consume 6 bolls, in a certain time,
how many will 24 men consume in the same time ?
M. M. B. B.
18 : 24 : 6 : 8 Answer, 24 men will consume
6 8 bolls in the same time.
i8)i44(8
2d, If a certain number of men consume 8 bolls in
28 days, how many will they consume in y6 days ?
D. D. B. B.
28 : y6 :: 8 : 16 The same number of men
8 will consume 16 bolls in y6 days.
28)448(16
In the course of this operation, the original number
of bolls, 6, is first multiplied into 24, then divided by
18, then multiplied into 8, then divided by 28. It
would answer the same purpose to collect the multipli¬
ers into one product, and the divisors into another; and
then to multiply the given number of bolls by the for¬
mer, and divide the product by the latter, p. 633. col. I.
par. ult.
The above question may therefore be stated and
wrought as follows:
4 L 2 Men
ARITHMETIC.
636
Proportion. Men 18 : 24
»—Y——^ Days 28 : 56
*44 M4
36 120
5°4 1344
6
A R I T H
6 bolls Here we multiply 18 into
28 for a divisor, and 6 into
the product of 24 by 56, for
a dividend.
504)8064(16
“ In general, state the several particulars on which
the question depends, as so many simple proportions,
attending to the sense of the question to discover
whether the proportions should be stated directly or
inversely j then multiply all the terms in the first
rank together, and all those in the second rank to¬
gether j and work with the product as directed in
the simple rule (Sect. i. p. 634.”)
Example. If ico men make 3 miles of road in 27
days, in how many days will 150 men make 5 miles?
Men 150 : 100 : : 27 days. Here the first sta-
450
500
27
ting is inverse, because
more men will do it in
fewer days j but the se¬
cond is direct, because
more miles will require
45°) x3 500(30 days, ans. more days.
The following contraction is often useful. After
stating the proportion, if the same number occurs in
both ranks, dash it out from both j or, if any term in
the first rank, and another in the second rank are mea¬
sured by the same numbers, dash out the original terms,
and use the quotients in their stead.
Ex. If 18 men consume 30I. value of corn in 9
months, when the price is 16s. per boll, how many
will consume 54I. value in 6 months, when the price
is 12s. per boll ? In this question, the proportion de¬
pends upon three particulars, the value of corn, the time
and the price. The first of which is direct, because the
more the value of provisions is, the more time is requi¬
red to consume them : but the second and third are
inverse, for the greater the time and price is, fewer
men will consume an equal value.
Value
Months
Price
3#
n
10
z
9
*0
18 men.
Here we observe 6 in the
first rank measures 54 in the se¬
cond : so we dash them out, and
place the quotientp in the second
rank. Next, because 30 and 9 are
both measured by 3, we dash them
out, and place down the quotients
10 and 3J then, because 12 and
16 are both measured by 4, we
dash them out, and place down
the quotients 3 and 4. Lastly,
Because there is now 3 in both
10)648(64/0 columns, we dash them out, and
work with the remaining terms,
according to the rule.
The moneys, weights, and measures of different coun¬
tries, may be reduced from the proportion which they
bear to each other.
Ex. If XI2 lb. avoirdupois make 104lb. of Holland,
and IOO lb. of Holland make 89 of Geneva, and 110
2
18
288
36
B
C’s
D’s
E’s
170 913
45 9!3
480 913
72 913
170
45
480
72
1-913 1-34* 7 6
This might also be calculated, by finding what com¬
position the bankrupt was able to pay per pound j
which is obtained by dividing the amount of his ef¬
fects by the amount of his debts, and comes to 7s. 6d.
and then finding by the rules of practice, how much
each debt came to at that rate.
Chap. VII. RULES FOR PRACTICE.
The operations explained in the foregoing chapters
comprehend the whole system of arithmetic, and are
sufficient for every computation. In many cases, how¬
ever, the work may be contracted, by adverting to
the particular circumstances of the question. We shall
explain, in this chapter, the most useful methods which
practice has suggested for rendering mercantile compu¬
tations easy j in which the four elementary rules of
arithmetic are sometimes jointly, sometimes separately
employed.
Sect. I. Computation of Prices.
The value of any number of articles, at a pound, a
shilling,
*5
M E T I C. Chap, V
of Geneva make 117 of Seville, how many lbs. of Se- Propor
ville will make loolb. avoirdupois ? ^
112 : 104 :: 100
100 : 89
no : 117
If it be required, how many lb. avoirdupois will
make 100 of Seville, the terms would have been placed
in the different columns thus :
104 : 112 :: 100
89 : 100
117 : no
Sect. III. Distributive Proportion.
If it be required to divide a number into parts, which
have the same proportion to each other, that several
other given numbers have, we add these numbers toge¬
ther, and state the following proposition : As the sum
is to the particular numbers, so is the number required
to be divided to the several parts sought.
Ex. ist.J Four partners engage to trade in company ;
A’s stock is 150I. B’s 320I. C’s 350I. D’s 5001.5 and
they gain 7301*: Required how much belongs to each,
if the gain be divided among them in proportion to their
stocks ?
Rem.
A’s stock L. 150 1320 : 150 ”730 : L. S2 19 1 —120
B’s 320 1320 : 320 :: 730 : 176 19 4 — 960
C’s 350 1320 : 350 :: 730 : 193 11 2 — 72a
D’s 500 1320 : 500 :: 730 : 276 10 3— 840
Whole stock* 320 Proof L. 730
This account is proved by adding the gains of the
partners j the sum of which will be equal to the whole
gain, if the operation be right 5 but, if there be re¬
mainders, they must be added, their sum divided by
the common divisor, and the quotient carried to the
lowest place.
Ex. 2d.] A bankrupt owes A 1461. B 170k C 45}.
D 480I. and E 72I.J his whole effects are only 342I.
7s. 6d. How much should each have ?
A’s debt L. 146 913 : 146 :: 1-342 7 6 : L. 54 15 A’s share.
342 76 63 15 B’s
342 7 16 17 6 C’s
342 76 180 D’s
34a 76 27 E’s
i#-
l7
Chap. VII. A R I T H
Practice, shilling, or a penny, is an equal number of pounds, sbil-
u--y——' lings, or pence $ and these two last are easily reduced
to pounds. The value, at any other rate, may be cal¬
culated by easy methods, depending on some contrac¬
tion already explained, or on one or more of the follow¬
ing principles.
1st, If the rate be an aliquot part of a pound, a shil¬
ling, or a penny, then an exact number of articles may
be bought for a pound, a shilling, or a penny j and
the value is found by dividing the given number ac¬
cordingly. Thus, to find the price of so many yards
at 2s. 6d. which is the eighth part of a pound, we di¬
vide the quantity by eight, because every eight yards
cost L.t.
2d, If the rate be equal to the sum of two other
rates which are easily calculated, the value may be
found by computing these separately, and adding the
sums obtained. Thus, the price of so many yards, at
pd. is found, by adding their prices, at 6d. and 3d. to¬
gether.
3d, If the rate be equal to the. difference of two easy
rates, they may be calculated separately, and the lesser
subtracted from the greater. Thus, the value of so
many articles at lid. is found, by subtracting their
value at a penny from their value at a shilling. We
may suppose that a shilling was paid for each article,
and then a penny returned on each.
4th, If the rate be a composite number, the value
may be found by calculating what it comes to at one of
the component parts, and multiplying the same by the
other.
Case I. “ When the rate is an aliquot part of a
“ pound, divide the quantity by the number which
u may be bought for a pound.”
Table of the aliquot parts o/’L.l.
— T
  1
— T'
— T>
  1
— S
is. 4d. = tTj- of L.i.
is. 3d. =
TS
IS. = TJ—
8d. — y-Q
6d. =
4fh =: /o
3d. = -g^g-
2d. — Y*~o
2d.] What is the value
of 1773 yards, at 3d.?
8|o)i773
L. 22 3 3
10 shillings 4 ofL.l.
6s. 8d.
5s-
4s*
3s- 4<1-
2s. 6d.
2S. — tV
is. 8d. =TT
Ex. 1st.] What is the value
of 7463 yards, at. 4s. ?
5)7463
L, 1492 12s.
In the first example we divide by 5 because 4s. is
£ of a pound j the quotient 1492 shows how many
pounds they amount to ^ besides which there remain
three yards at 4s. and these come to 12s. In the second
example, we divide by 80, as directed, and the quotient
gives L.22, and the remainder 13 yards, which at 3d.
come to 3s, 3d.
This method can only be used in calculating for the
particular prices specified in the table. Tdie follow¬
ing 6 cases comprehend all possible rates, and will
therefore exhibit different methods of solving the lore¬
going questions.
Case II. “ When the rate consists of shillings only,
“ multiply the quantity by the number of shillings, and
“ divide the product by 20 : Or, if the number of
“ shillings be even, multiply by half the number, and
“ divide the product by 10.”
M E T I €.
Ex. 1st.] 4573 at 13s.
13
2d.] 754s at 14s.
7
637
13719
4573
20)59449
L. 2972 9s.
10)52801
L. 5280 2S.
2d.
3d-
4d.
6d.
of ditto.
of ditto.
y of ditto.
4 of ditto.
5d. is the sum of 4d. and id. or of 2d. and 3d.
7d. is the sum of 4d. and 3d. or of 6d. and id.
8d. is the sum of 6d. and 2d. or the double of 4d.
9d. is the sum of 6d. and 3d.
lod. is the sum of 6d. and 4d.
lid. is the sum of 6d. 3d. and 2d.
Ex. 1st.] 7423 at 4d.
3)7423
20)2474 4
L. 123 14 4
2d.] 9786 at 9d.
At 6d.=! of is. 4893
At 3d.=4 of 6d. 2446
At 9d. 7339 6
L. 366 196 Half of that is the cost at
3d.] 4856 at 1 id. 3d. and these added and re¬
duced give the answer.
Here we calculate what
the articles would cost at
6d. at 3d. and at 2d. and
add the values.
At 6d.=4 of is. 2428
At 3d.=r4 °f 6d. 1214
At 2d.=4 of 6d; 809
I id.
4451
L. 222
4
11
4
It is sometimes easier to calculate at two rates, whose
difference is the rate required, and subtract the lesser
value from the greater. Thus, the last example may
be wrought by subtracting the value at a penny from
the value at a shilling. The remainder must be the
value
Practice.
The learner will easily perceive, that the method in
which the second example is wrought, must give the
same answer as if the quantity had been multiplied by
14, and divided by 20 5 and as the division by 10
doubles the last figure for shillings, and continues all
the rest unchanged for pounds, we may obtain the an¬
swer at once, by doubling the right-hand figure of the
product before we set it down.
If the rate be the sum of two or more aliquot parts
of a pound, we may calculate these as directed in Case I.
and add them. If it be any odd number of shillings,
we may calculate for the even number next lower, and
add thereto the value of a shilling. If it be 19s. we
may subtract the value at a shilling, from the value at
a pound.
Case III. “ When the rate consists of pence only.”
Method I . If the rate be an aliquot part of a shil¬
ling, divide the quantity accordingly, which gives the
answer in shillings; if not, it may be divided into two
or more aliquot parts : calculate these separately, and
add the values j reduce the answer to pounds.
1 penny is of a shilling
Here, because 4d. is one
third of a shilling, we di¬
vide by 3, which gives the
price in shillings,and reduce
these by division to pounds.
Here we suppose, that
first 6d. and then 3d. is
paid for each article j half
the quantity is the num¬
ber of shillings which they
would cost at 6d. each.
638
Practice.
value at nd*
At is. 4856s.
At I (I • ^ (J- 4^4
8
A R I T H
iod. may be wrought as
the difference of is. and
2d. ; and several other
rates in like manner.
At 1 id. 4451 4
L.222 11 4
Meth. 2. Multiply the quantity by the number of
pence, the product is the answer in pence. Reduce it
to pounds.
Meth. 3. Find the value at a penny by division, and
multiply the same by the number of pence.
Case IV. “ When the rate consists of farthings on-
“ ly, find the value in pence, and reduce it by division
“ to pounds.”
Fx. ist.] 37843 at 1 farthing.
4)37843 farth-
12) 9460^ pence
788 4!
L. 39 8 4!
3d. 72564 at |d.
3
2d.] 23754 at id-
2)23754 halfpence
12)11877 pence
989
L. 49
Or, 72564
4)217692 farth.
1) 54423 pence
4535 3
L. 226 15 3
At fd.
At 4d.
3682
18141
d.
d.
12)54423 d.
4535 3
L. 226 15 3
We may also find the amount in twopences, three*
pences, fourpences, or sixpences, by one division, and
reduce these as directed in Case I.
Case V. “ When the rate consists of pence and far-
“ things, find the value of the pence, as directed in
“ Case III. and that of the farthings from the propor-
“ tion which they hear to the pounds. Add these to-
“ gether, and reduce.”
Ex. 1st.] 3287 at 5^d.
8
At 4d.=f of is. 1095
At id.=| of 4d. 273 11
At if. =r£ of id. 68 5!
At
1438 \
L. 71 18 I
2d.] 4573 at 2i
At 2d.=£ of is. 762 2
At fd.nrf of 2d. 190 6f
At id.=f of fd. 85 3^
At
IO37 III:
L.51 17 III:
3d.] 2842 at 3|:d.
At 3d.rr|- of is.
At 3f.=i of 3d.
710 6
176 7f
At 3! 887 if
L.44 8 ii
4th.] 3572 at 7fd.
At 6d.=i of is. 1386
At iid.=i of 6d. 346 6
At qi
1732 6
L.87 12 6
It is sometimes best to join some of the pence with the
farthings in the calculation. Thus, in Ex. 4. we reckon
M E T I C. Chap. V:
the value at 6d. and at 3 halfpence, which makes yfd. practi(
If the rate be ii, which is an eighth part of a shil- '■“—v"
ling, the value is found in shillings, by dividing the
quantity by 8.
Case VI. “ When the rate consists of shillings and
“ lower denominations.”
Method 1. Multiply the quantity by the shillings,
and find the value of the pence and farthings, if a?iy,
from the proportion which they bear to the shillings.
Add and reduce.
Ex. 1st.] 4258 at 17s. 3d.
'1
29806
4258
17s.
3d.=r^ of is.
17s. 3d.
72386
1064 ^
T 73450 6
L.3672 10 6
3072 10 o
2d.] 5482 at 12s. 4fd.
12
I2S.
3d.zr^ of is.
Ifd.r;-^ of 3d.
12
65784
1370 6
685 3
12s. 4*d.
67839 9
_ _ T%. . E-SSP1 J9 9
Method 2. Divide the rate into aliquot parts of a
pound; calculate the values corresponding to these, as
directed in Case I. and add them.
s. d. s. d.
Ex. 1 st.] 3894 at 17 6 2d.] 1765 at 9 2
ios.—f L. 1947
5s-=i 973 10
2s. 6d.=r|- 486 15
6s. 8d.=f L. 588 6 8
2s. 6d.rr.g- 220 12 6
9s. 2d.
808 19
17s. 6d._ L. 3407 5 .
Sometimes part of the value is more readily obtained
from a part already found ; and sometimes it is easiest
to calculate at a higher rate, and subtract the value at
the difference. s. d. s. d.
3d0 63790 at 5 4 4th.] 3664 a! 14 9
4s. =4ofL.i2758
is.4d.
fof4s. 4252 13
los.rzf L. 1832
5s.=:|ofios. 916
5s-4d-
L. 17010 13 4 15s. 2748
3d-=^o of 5s- 45
16
14s. 9d. L. 2702 4
Metljod 3. If the price contain a composite number
of pence, we may multiply the value at a penny by the
component parts.
Ex. C628 at 2s. 1 id. or 3 ?d.
12)5628
20)469
L. 23 9
5
L. 117 5
7
L.820 15
Case
Chap. VII.
practice. Case VII. “ When the rate consists of pounds and
u—v—' u lower denominations.”
Method i. Multiply by the pounds, and find the value
of the other denominations from the proportion which
they hear to the pounds.
Ex. ist.] 3592 at L.3 : 12 : 8.
3
ARITHMETIC.
639
r.3
12s. =7 ofl^-S
Sd.^Y-g- of 12s.
L.3 12 8
IO776
4
119 14 8
L.13050 18 8
2d.] 543 at L. 2 : 5 ; 12\.
2
L.2
5s. of L.i
lod.rr:^- of 5s.
4d.=T^ of lod.
L.1245 10
Method 2. Reduce the pounds to shillings, and pro¬
ceed as in Case VI.
Ex. ist.] 3592 atL.3 : 12 : 8 2d.] 3683 atL.2:4 :11
72 20 45
72
18415
M732
258624
4d.=4s. 1197 4
4d.=^s. 1197 4
8d.
At 45s.
At I (!•«—.YTyS*
165735
307 II
44s. I id.
165427 - I
L.8271 7 1
261018 8
L.13050 18 8
The learner should at first try every calculation more
ways than one $ which will not only serve the purpose
of proving the operation, but will render him expert at
discovering the best method for solving each question,
and will lead him to invent other methods 5 for we
have not exhausted the subject.
Thus, if the number of articles be 20, each shilling
of the rate makes a pound of the amount. If it be 12,
each penny of the rate makes a shilling of the amount.
If 240, each penny of the rate makes a pound of the
amount. If 480, each halfpenny makes a pound. If
960, each farthing makes a pound. If the number of
articles be a multiple, or an aliquot part of any of these,
the amount is easily calculated. And if it be near to
any such number, we may calculate for that number,
and add or subtract for the difference.
We have hitherto explained the various methods of
computation, when the quantity is a whole number, and
in one denomination. It remains to give the proper
directions when the quantity contains a fraction, or is
expressed in several denominations.
When the quantity contains a fraction, work for the
integers by the preceding rules, andfor the fraction take
proportional parts.
JP'hen the quantity is expressed by several denomina¬
tions, and the rate given for the higher ; calculate the
higher, consider the lower one as fractions, and work
by the last rule.
When the rate is given for the lower denomination,
reduce the higher denomination to the lower, and calcu¬
late accordingly.
Note ist, 7 lb. 14 lb. and 21 lb. are aliquot parts of practice.
I qr. : and 16 lb. is \ of 1 cwt. j and are therefore
easily calculated.
2d, If the price of a dozen be so many shillings, that
of an article is as many pence j and if the price of a
gross be so many shillings, that of a dozen is as many
pence.
3d, If the price of a ton or score be so many pounds,
that of 1 cwt. or a single article, is as many shillings.
4th, Though a fraction less than a farthing is of no
consequence, and may be rejected, the learner must be
careful lest he lose more than a farthing, by rejecting
several remainders in the same calculation.
Sect. II. Deductions on Weights, &c.
The full weight of any merchandise, together with
that of the cask, box, or other package, in which it is
contained, is called the gross weight. From this we
must make proper deductions, in order to discover the
quantity for which price or duty should be charged,
which is called the nett iveight.
Tare is the allowance for the weight of the package \
and this should be ascertained by weighing it before the
goods are packed. Sometimes, however, particularly
in payment of duty, it is customary to allow so much
per C. or so much per ICO lb. in place of tare.
Tret is an allowance of 41b. on 104 granted on cur¬
rants, and other goods on which there is waste, in order
that the weight may answer when the goods are retailed.
Cloff, or Draught, is a further allowance granted on
some goods in London, of 2 lb. on every 3 C. to turn
the scale in favour of the purchaser. The method of
calculating these and the like will appear from the fol¬
lowing examples.
Ex. ist. What is the nett weight of 17 C. 2 q. 141b.,
tare 18 lb. per cwt.
C. q. lb.
17 2 14 gross.
a q.
17 2
lb.
14
6
l61b.=4 C. 2 2 2
2lb.=-|-of 161b. I 7
I°5
18 lb.
2 3 9! tare
3 -
3
Ml
14 3 4|nett.28)3l7:Jrlb. t?. <7.
4) 11 9^(2 3 9^ta.re“
In the first method, we add the tare at l61b. which
is ^ of the gross weight, to the tare, at 2 lb. which is g-
of the former. In the second, we multiply the gross
weight by 18 } the tare is I lb. for each cwt. of the
product, and is reduced by division to higher denomina¬
tions.
2d.] What is tret of 158 C. 2 q. 24 lb.
C. q. lb. C. q. lb.
22) 158 2 26 ( 6 - 11 Tret.
j56
2
4
10
28
286
286
Because tret is always 4 lb. in 104, or
1 lb. in 26, it is obtained by dividing
by 26.
3^0
640
Practice.
/
A R I
3d.] What is the cloff on 28 C. 2 q. ?
C.
28
2
2
T
H
3) 57
This allowance being 2 lb. on every 3 C. might be
found by taking of the number of C’s and multiply¬
ing it by 2. It is better to begin with multiplication,
for the reason given, p. 633. col. 2. par. 1.
Sect. III. Commission, &c.
19 It is frequently required to calculate allowances on
sums of money, at the rate of so many per 100I. Of
this kind is Commission, or the allowance due to a
factor for buying or selling goods, or transacting anv
other business; Premium of Insurance, or allowance
given for engaging to repay one’s losses at sea, or other¬
wise *, Exchange, or the allowance necessary to be
added or subtracted for reducing the money of one place
to that of another-, Premiums on Stock, or the allow¬
ance given for any share of a public stock above the
original value. All these and others of a like kind are
calculated by the following
Rule. “ Multiply the sum by the rate, and divide
“ the product by 100. If the rate contain a fraction,
“ take proportional parts.”
fcx. YY hat is the commission on 728I. at 2J; per cent. ?
728
* 2
2 per cent. 14 ?6
* 364
i 182
l|00)20|02
20
40
12
4i8o
4 Answ. L.20 — 4!
. ^ ^en rate is given in guineas, which is common
in cases of insurance, you may add a twentieth part to
the sum before you calculate. Or you may calculate
at an equal number of pounds, and add a twentieth part
to the answer.
YYhen the given sum is an exact number of 10
pounds, the calculation may be done without setting
down any figures. Every 10I. at f per cent, is a shil¬
ling ; and at other rates in proportion. Thus, 170I.
at 2| per cent, is 173.5 and, at i per cent. 8s. 6d.
Sect. IV. Interest.
Interest is the allowance given for the use of money
by the borrower to the lender. This is computed at
so many pounds for each hundred lent for a year, and
a like proportion for a greater or a less time. The
highest rate is limited by our laws to 5 per cent, which
is called the legal interest; and is due on all debts con-
stituted by bond or bill, which are not paid at the pro¬
per term, and is always understood when no other rate
is mentioned.
M E T I C. Chap. V],
The interest of any sum for a year, at any rate, is practjc.
found by the method explained in the last section. < ^
The interest of any number of pounds for a year, at
5 per cent, is one-twentieth part, or an equal number of
shillings. Thus, the interest of 34675I. for a year, is
34675 shillings.
The interest for a day is obtained by dividing the in¬
terest for a year, by the number of days in a year. Thus,
the interest of 34675k for a day is found by dividing
34675 shillings by 365, and comes to 95 shillings.
1 he interest for any number of days is obtained by
multiplying the daily interest by the number of days.
Thus the interest of 34675k for 17 days, is 17 times
95 shillings or 1615 shillings 5 and this divided by 20,
in order to reduce it, comes to Sol. 15s.
It would have served the same purpose, and been
easier, to multiply at first by 17, the number of days 5
and instead of dividing separately by 365, and by 20,
to divide at once by 7300, the product of 365 multi¬
plied by 20 ; and this division may be facilitated by the
table inserted p. 631. col. 1.
The following practical rules may be inferred from
the foregoing observations.
I. To calculate interest at $per cent. “ Multiply the
principal by the number of days, and divide the pro-
“ duct by 7300.”
II. To calculate interest at any other rate. “ Find
what it comes to at 5 per cent, and take a proper pro-
“ portion of the same for the rate required.”
hx. 1st. Interest on 34675^f°r I7 days, at 5 percent. ?
34675
*7
242725
34675
  L. s.
73100)5894175(80 15
584
5475
20
1095100
73
o
Ex. 2d. Interest on 304l.3s.4d. for 8 days, at 4per cent.
L- 3°4 3 4
8
————— s. d.
73|°o)2433 6 8(6 8
20
486I66
438
4866
12
584(00
584
lat.
o
Chap. VII.
A R I T H
Interest.
Int. at 5 per cent.
Deduce j-
L. —
Lit. at 4 per cent. L. — 5 4
When partial payments are made, vve proceed in the
following manner: Let us suppose a bill of 170I. was
due 12th August, that 54I. was paid on the 18th Sep¬
tember, 56!. on the 17th October, and the balance on
the 14th November; and let it be required to find how
much interest is due.
Days.
37 upo
A10
Aug. 12. L
Sept. 18. pd
Oct. 17. pd.
Nov. 14.
29
28
1044
232
6290
33^4
1680
— 7300)1i334(L. 1 : 11
Here we subtract the several payments from the ori¬
ginal sum in their order, placing the dates in the mar¬
gin ; and from this it appears that there is interest due
on 170I. from 12th August to 18th September, on 1161.
from 18th September to 17th October, and on 60I. from
17th October to 14th November. We next compute
the number of days in each of these periods, and mark
it against the respective sum. Then we multiply each
sum by the number of days ; reserving a column, when
necessary, for the products of the several figures in the
multiplier. Lastly, We add these products, and divide
their sum by 7300.
Interest on current accounts is calculated nearly in
the same manner. For example, let the interest due
on the following account be required to 31st July, at
4 per cent.
Dr. Mr A. Baird, his account current with W. Neil, Cr.
*775-
Jan. 15. To cash L.i5o
Mar. 1 a. To ditto 36
June 23. To ditto 13 4
July 19, To ditto 26 13
*775-
Jan. 13.
Mar. 12.
22.
May 16.
June 13.
Dr.
23. Dr
28.
July 1 p.
Dr.
Cr.
Dr.
Dr.
L.
16c
36
196
So
146
37
109
25
Day
56
10
55
30
!97
ins-
Mar. 22. By cash L/.30
May 16. By ditto 37
June 15. By ditto 25 ra
28. By ditto 32 s
96c
800
730
730
6a
1287
73°c|
8960
i960
8030
3270
66-j
483
Jan. 16
Feb. 28
Mar. 31
Apr. 30
May 31
June 30
July 31
Days 197
t3Sl
1092
25813 (L 3 to 84 at
Deduce | part 14 if
Interest at 4 per cent. L.2 16 7
Vol. II. Part II.
M E T I C.
Here the sums on either side of the account are in¬
troduced according to the order of their dates. Those
on the Dr. side are added to the former balance, and
those on the C'r. side subtracted. Before we calculate
the days, we try if the last sum 91I. be equal to the
balance of the account, which proves the additions and
subtractions ; and, before multiplying, we try if the sum
oi the column ot days be equal to the number of days,
from 15th January to 31st of July.
In the 5th and 6th multiplications, we begin at the
pence column, and take in the carriage, In the 7th,
instead of multiplying the 6s. 8d. by 21, we add the
third part 21 to the product, because 6s. 8d. is the
third of a pound. This is done by marking down the
second line 1287, instead of 1280. As the computa¬
tion on the odd shillings and pence is troublesome, and
makes a very small increase of the interest, some neglect
them altogether; others add one to the pound, when the
shillings exceed 10, and neglect them when below it.
2d.] Required interest on the following account to
31st December, allowing 5 per cent, when the balance
is due to J. T. and 4 per cent, when due to N. Wr.
Dr. Mr J. T. his account current with N. W. Cr.
Dec. 31. To balance L.150 April 9. By cash L. 70
Mar. 12. To cash 120 May 12. By cash 300
June 17. To cash 165 June 3. By cash 24a
Sept. 24. To cash 242 Aug. 2. By cash 10
Oct. 9. To cash 178
L. {Days
71
1755-
Dec. 31
.r1”6’
Mar. 12
April 9
May 12.
June 3.
17-
Aug. 2.
Sept. 24.
Oct. 9.
Dec. 31.
Dr.
Dr.
Dr.
Cr.
Dr
Cr.
Cr.
Cr.
Cr.
Dr.
Cr.
Cr.
Cr.
Dr.
lS°
120
270
70
200
300
100
240
34°
i65
J75
10
*85
242
Dr.
Dr.
Dr.
57
!78
235
28
33
22
I4
46
53
*5
J5o
1050
2160
540
83
Interest due to N.
Deduce f
365
1360
340
1050
700
555
925
10650
7560
6600
285
57
705
1880
7300
855
I95°5
2200
4760
8050
9805
4517024815
W. at 5 per cent. L.6 8 9
- ' 15 9
Due to N. W. at 4 per cent.
Due to J. T. at 5 per cent.
Balance due to N. W.
4M
l-5 3 0
3 7
15
of
la
641
Interest.
A R I T H
In this account, the balance is sometimes due to the
one party, sometimes to the other. At the beginning,
there is a balance due to N. W. $ and on the 9th of
April there is 200I. due him. On the 12th of May,
J. T. pays him 300I. which discharges what he owed,
and leaves a balance of 100I. due him. The balance
continues in J. T’s favour till the 24th of September,
when N. W. pays 242I. These changes are distinguish¬
ed by the marks Dr. and Cr. The products are ex¬
tended in different columns, and divided separately.
When payments are made on constituted debts, at
considerable distances of time, it is usual to calculate
the interest to the date of each payment, and add it to
the principal, and then subtract the payment from the
amount.
Ex. A bond for 540I. was due the 18th Aug. 1772 j
and there was paid 19th March 1773, 50I.; and 19th
December 1773, 25M an^ September 1774, 25I.J
and 18th August 1775, liol. Required the interest
and balance due on the nth November 1775 ?
A bond due i^tli August 1772
Interest to ipth March 1773, 218 daysXi.ifi 2
Paid 151th March 1773
Balance due 19th March 1773
Interest to 19thDecember 1773,27a days 19 1
Paid 19th December 1773
Balance due 19th December 1773
Intcrestto23dSeptember 1774, 27Sdays 19 o
Paid 23d September 2774
Balance due 23d September 1774
Interest to 18th August 1775, 329 days 22 5
Paid iSth August 1775
Balance due xSth August 1775
Idterest to nth November 2775, 85 days 4 14
Balance due 11th November 17715
Amount of the interest L.81 4
L.540
6 16 2 6
L565 2 6
50 o o
L.506 2 6
2 19 I 2
I-525 3 8
25 0 o
500 3 8
9 l9 0 9
L.519 4 5
25
L.494 4 5
3 ** 5 3
L.516 9 8
110
L.406 9 8
6 4 14 5
L.4 ii 4 2
Chap. VIII. VULGAR FRACTIONS.
In order to understand the nature of vulgar fractions
we must suppose unity (or the number x j divided into
several equal parts. One or more of these parts is call¬
ed a fraction, and is represented by placing one number
in a small character above a line, and another under it:
I 01 example, two fifth parts is written thus, 4. The
number under the line (5) shows how many ^arts unity
is divided into, and is called the denominator. The num¬
ber above the line (2) shows how many of these parts
are represented, and is called the numerator. P
It lollows from the manner of representing fractions
that, when the numerator is increased, the value of the
fraction becomes greater 3 but, when the denominator
is increased, the value becomes less. Hence we may
infer, that, if the numerator and denominator be both
increased, or both diminished, in the same proportion
Hie value is not altered 3 and therefore, if we multiply
M E T I C. Chap. VI
both by any number whatever, or divide them by any Vulv
number which measures both, we shall obtain other FracS
fractions of equal value. Thus, every fraction may be
expressed in a variety of forms, which have all the same
signification.
A fraction annexed to an integer, or whole number
makes a mixed number. For .example, five and two
third-parts, or 3-|. A fraction whose numerator is
greater than its denominator is called an improper frac¬
tion. For example, seventeen third-parts, or y. Frac¬
tions of this kind are greater than unity. Mixed num¬
bers may be represented in the form of improper frac¬
tions, and improper fractions may be reduced to mixed
numbers, and sometimes to integers. As fractions
whether proper or improper may be represented in dif¬
ferent forms, we must explain the method of reducing
them from one form to another, before w'e consider the
other operations.
Problem I. “To reduce mixed numbers to improper
“ fractions : Multiply the integer by the denominator
“ of the fraction, and to the product add the numerator.
“ The sum is the numerator of the improper fraction
“ sought, and is placed above the given denominator.”
Ex. 5y— y7
5 integer.
3 denominator.
15 product.
1 numerator given.
17 numerator sought.
Because one is equal to two halves, or 3 third-parts
or 4 quarters, and every integer is equal to twice as
many halves, or four times as many quarters, and so
on 3 therefore, every integer may be expressed in the
form of an improper fraction, having an assigned deno¬
minator : The numerator is obtained by multiplying
the integer into the denominator. Hence the reason
of the foregoing rule is evident: 5, reduced to an im¬
proper fraction, whose denominator is 3, makes y®.
and this added to | amounts to y.
Problem II. “ To reduce improper fractions to
whole or mixed numbers : Divide the numerator by
“ the denominator.” ^
Ex.
11 2 —£
TT —0
1 Q
XT
17)xi2(644
102
10
1.
2.
3-
4
3 *48
T5-
J 4 x
T-y
75 3 <S
HT
15 7 6 4
5- IV
6. Hf4
. 8642
7- ST
o 4 1 6 x
TT-g"
Ihis problem is the converse of the former, and the
reason may be illustrated in the same manner.
Problem HI. “ To reduce fractions to lower terms:
“ Divide both numerator and denominator by any num-
“ ber which measures both, and place the quotients in
“ the form of a fraction.”
Example. 444 = 44 = 4
Here we observe that 135 and 360 are both mea¬
sured by 5, and the quotients form 44 which is a frac¬
tion of the same value as 444 in lower terms. Again,
27 and 72 are both measured by 9, and the quotients
form 4, which is still of equal value, and in lower terms.
It is generally sufficient, in practice, to divide by such
measures as are found to answer on inspection, or by the
rules given p. 629. col 2. But, if it be required to re¬
duce a fraction to the lowest possible terms, we must di¬
vide
Chap.
vin.
A R I T H
Vulgar vide the numerator and denominator by the greatest
Fractions, number which measures both. What number this is
*,i" ' may not be obvious, but will always be found by the
following rule.
To find the greatest common measure of two num¬
bers, divide the greater by the lesser, and the divisor
by the remainder continually, till nothing remain ; the
last divisor is the greatest common measure.
Example. Required the greatest number which mea¬
sures 475 and 589
475)589(i
475
H4)475(4
456
19)114(6
114
Here we divide 589 by 475,
and the remainder is 114; then
we divide 475 by 114, and
the remainder is 19 j then we
divide 114 by 19, and there is
no remainder : from which we
infer, that 19, the last divisor,
is the greatest common mea¬
sure.
To explain the reason of this, we must observe, that
any number which measures two others, will also mea¬
sure their sum and their difference, and will measure
any multiple of either. In the foregoing example, any
number which measures 589, and 475, will measure
their difterence 1x4, and will measure 456, which is a
multiple of 114; and any number which measures 475,
and 456, will also measure their difference 19. Con¬
sequently, no number greater than 19 can measure 589
and 475. Again, 19 will measure them both, for it
measures 114, and therefore measures 456, which is a
multiple of 114, and 475, which is just 19 more than
456; and, because it measures 475 antf II4> it will
measure their sum ^89. To reduce ^ir!- to the lowest
possible terms, we divide both numbers by 19, and it
tt-
If there be no common measure greater than t, the
fraction is already in the lowest terms.
If the greatest common measure of 3 numbers be re¬
quired, we find the greatest measure of the two first,
and then the greatest measure of that number, and the
third. If there be more numbers, we proceed in the
same manner.
Problem IV. “ To reduce fractions to others of
“equal value that have the same denominator: 1st,
“ Multiply the numerator of each fraction by all the
“ denominators except its own. The products are nu-
“ merators to the respective fractions sought.” 2d,
“ Multiply all the denominators into each other j the
“ product is the common denominator.”
Ex. y and ^ and and y-jy§- and y-g-J-.
4 X 9 X 8=288 first numerator.
7 X 5 X 8=280 second numerator.
3 X S X 9=135 third numerator.
5X9x8=360 common denominator.
Here we multiply 4, the numerator of the first frac¬
tion, by 9 and 3 the denominators of the two others 5
and the product 288 is the numerator of the fraction
sought, equivalent to the first. The other numerators
are found in like manner, and the common denomina¬
tor 360, is obtained by multiplying the given denomi¬
nators 5, 9, 8, into each other. In the course of the
whole operation, the numerators and denominators of
each fraction are multiplied by the same number, and
therefore their value is not altered.
M E T I C. 543
The fractions thus obtained may be reduced to lower Vulgar
terms, if the several numerators and denominators have Fractions,
a common measure greater than unity. Or, after ar-—v——'
ranging ,the number for multiplication, as is done
above, if the same number occur in each rank, we may
dash them out and neglect them j and if numbers
which have a common measure occur in each, we may
dash them out and use the quotients in their stead ; or
any number which is a multiple of all the given deno¬
minators, may be used as a common denominator.
Sometimes a number of this kind will occur on inspec¬
tion, and the new numerators are found by multiply¬
ing the given ones by the common denominator, and
dividing the products by the respective given denomi¬
nators.
If the articles given for any operation be mixed num¬
bers, they are reduced to improper fractions by Pro¬
blem I. If the answer obtained be an improper frac¬
tion, it is reduced to a mixed number by Problem II.
And, it is convenient to reduce fractions to lower
terms, when it can be done, by Problem III. which
makes their value better apprehended, and facilitates
any following operation. The reduction of fractions to
the same denominator by Problem IV. is necessary to
prepare them for addition or subtraction, but not for
multiplication or division.
i. Addition of Vulgar Fractions. 22
Rule. “ Reduce them, if necessary, to a common
“ denominator } add the numerators, and place the sum
“ above the denominator.”
Ex. 1st.] T+i^tr+if Problem IV.=|4
5 I 3 I 9  450 1 S ff o I J <5 ■»—r 5 7 7 45 0
2ll-J 7-r'3' + To'—-5T0-T-ffTo TtfTo—'5To 5<So
By Problem II.=34y^=Tx4T
The numerators of fractions that have the same de¬
nominator signify like parts j and the reason for add¬
ing them is equally obvious, as that for adding shillings
or any other inferior denomination.
Mixed numbers may be added, by annexing the sum
of the fractions to the sum of the integers. If the for¬
mer be a mixed number, its integer is added to the
other integers.
2. Subtraction of Vulgar Fractions.
Rule. “ Reduce the fractions to a common deno-
“ minator; subtract the numerator of the subtrahend
“ from the numerator of the minuend, and place the re-
“ mainder above the denominator.”
Ex. Subtract 4 from remainder
from 35
• by Prob. IV. take 24
5 — ? 5 7
izi4
rem. 11
To subtract a fraction from an integer : subtract the
numerator from the denominator, and place the remain¬
der above the denominator } prefix to this the integer
diminished by unity.
Ex. Subtract | from 12. remainder n^.
To subtract mixed numbers, proceed with the frac¬
tions by the foregoing rule, and with the integers^ in
the common method. If the numerator of the fraction
in the subtrahend exceed that in the minuend, borrow
the value of the denominator, and repay it by adding I
to the unit place of the subtrahend.
4 M 2 Fur.
23
644
Vulgar
Fractions.
*4
3 — 2 I 7
r~zr I
7 3 4 f
A H I T H M E
Ex. Subtract 145^ from 238j.
24^lr
by Prob. IV. 145!^
i 7
45
T2-
5 S
TT
T I C.
Ex. 138x5^=793;
ISt.]4x4=Tr
2 X 5=10 num.
3X7=21 den.
2d] 84x7i=14rx65TV
8|= V by Prob. I.
74= V by ditto.
42x31 = 1302
. 5X4 = 20
.1° mu’tiply 4 by 4, is the same as to find what two
third parts of 4 comes to ; if one-third part only had
been required, it would have been obtained by multi¬
plying the denominator 7 by 3, because the value of
fractions is lessened when their denominators are in¬
creased : and tnis comes to ^sr j and, because two-thirds
were required, we must double that fraction, which is
done by multiplying the numerator by 2, and comes to
It* Hence we infer, that fractions of fractions, or
compound fractions, such as 4 of 4 are reduced to
simple ones by multiplication. The same method is
followed when the compound fraction is expressed in
three parts or more.
It a number be multiplied by any integer, its value
is increased : It it be multiplied by 1, or taken one
time, it undergoes no alteration. If it be multiplied
by a proper fraction, or taken for one half, two-thirds,
or the like, its value is diminished, and the product is
less than the number multiplied.
The foregoing rule extends to every case, when there
are fractions in either factor. For mixed numbers may
be reduced to improper fractions, as is done in Ex. 2d. •
and integers may be written, or understood to be writ¬
ten, in the form of fractions whose numerator is 1. It
will be convenient, however, to give some further di¬
rections for proceeding, when one of the factors is an
integer, or when one or both are mixed numbers.
. Ist> To multiply an integer by a fraction, multiply
it by the numerator, and divide the product by the de¬
nominator. EXt 2^6Xt:='2'253t
3
5)11268(22534
32, To multiply an integer by a mixed number, we
multiply it first by the integer, and then by the frac¬
tion, and add the products.
Chap. V]]
138X5=690 Vulga
138 X 4 Hactiw
3
Here, because 27, the numerator of the fraction in
the minuend, is less than 35, the numerator of the sub¬
trahend, we borrow 45 the denominator; 27 and 45
make 72, from which we subtract 35, and obtain 37
for the numerator of the fraction in the remainder, and
we repay what was borrowed, by adding 1 to 5 in the
unit place of the subtrahend.
I lie reason of the operations in adding or subtract¬
ing tractions will be fully understood, it we place the
numerators of the fractions in a column like a lower
denomination, and add or subtract them as integers,
carrying or borrowing according to the value of the
higher denomination.
3. Multiplication of Vulgar Fractions.
Rule. “ Multiply the numerators of the factors
“ together for the numerator of the product, and the
“ denominators together for the denominator of the
product.”
4)4I4(
[°31
793i
3d, To multiply a mixed number by a fraction, we
may multiply the integer by the fraction, and the two
fractions together, and add the products.
£x- 151x4=3 A
15 X 4=3 4 =3tt
tX ■$—
6
3
4th, When both factors are mixed numbers, we may
multiply each part of the multiplicand first by the in¬
teger of the multiplier, and then by the fraction, and
add the four products.
Ex. 8f by 74
8 X 7 =
3 —24 
T — T —
X 7 =t4=2-4
56
6 by Prob. II.
product 654*0 as before.
4. Division of Vulgar Fractions.
Rule I. “ Multiply the numerator of the dividend
“ by the denominator of the divisor. The product is
“ the numerator of the quotient.”
II. “ Multiply the denominator of the dividend by
“ the numerator of the divisor. The product is the de-
“ nominator of the quotient.”
Ex. Divide 4 by 4. Quotient 44
2x9=18
_ 5X7 = 35*
lo explain the reason of this operation, let us sup¬
pose it required to divide 4 by 7, or to take one-seventh
part of that fraction. Fhis is obtained by multiplying
the denominator by 7 ; for the value of fractions is di¬
minished by increasing their denominators, and comes
to -jf. Again, Because 4 is nine times less than seven,
the quotient of any number divided by 4 will be nine
times greater than the quotient of the same number
divided by 7. Therefore we multiply 44 by 9, and
obtain 44*
If the divisor and dividend have the same denomina¬
tor, it is sufficient to divide the numerators.
Ex. 44 d ivided by quotes 4.
The quotient of any number divided by a proper
fraction is greater than the dividend. It is obvious,
that any integer contains more halves, more third parts
and the like, than it contains units ; and, if an integer
and fraction be divided alike, the quotients will have
the* same proportion to the numbers divided ; but the
value of an integer is increased when the divisor is a
proper fraction ; therefore, the value of a fraction in
the like case is increased also.
Die foregoing rule may be extended to every case,
by reducing integers and mixed numbers to the form
of improper fractions. We shall add some directions
for shortening the operation when integers and mixed
numbers are concerned.
1st, When the dividend is an integer, multiply it
by
s5
2
Chap. VIII. A R I T H
Vulgar by the denominator of the divisor, and divide the pro-
fractions. duct by the numerator.
' Ex. Divide 368 by 4
7
5)2576(5i5t quotient.
2d, When the divisor is an integer, and the dividend
a fraction, multiply the denominator by the divisor,
and place the product under the numerator.
Ex. Divide 4 by 5 quotient ^g-
8x5=40
3d, When the divisor is an integer, and the dividend
a mixed number, divide the integer, and annex the
fraction to the remainder; then reduce the mixed num¬
ber, thus formed, to an improper fraction, and multiply
its denominator by the divisor.
Ex. To divide 576x1f by 7
7) 576 (82
5<5
16
quotient 82^4
Here we divide 576 by 7,
the quotient is 82, and the?
remainder 2, to which we an¬
nex the fraction vV } and re¬
duce 2t4t to an improper
fraction and multiply its
2t4x=:4t denominator by 7, which
II X7 = 76 gives 44.
Hitherto we have considered the fractions as abstract
numbers, and laid down the necessary rules accordingly.
We now proceed to apply these to practice. Shillings,
and pence may be considered as fractions of pounds,
and lower denominations of any kind as fractions of
higher; and any operation, where different denomina¬
tions occur, may be wrought by expressing the lower
ones in one form of vulgar fractions, and proceeding by
the following rules. For this purpose the two follow¬
ing problems are necessary.
Problem V. “ To reduce lower denominations to
“ fractions of higher, place the given number for the
“ numerator, and the value of the higher for the deno-
“ minator.” Examples.
1. Reduce 7d. to the fraction of a shilling. Ans. XV.
2. Reduce 7d. to a fraction of a pound. Ans. ^-Jo*
3. Reduce 15s. 7. to a fraction of a pound. Ans.
Problem VI. “ To value fractions of higher deno-
“ minations, multiply the numerator by the value of
“ the given denomination ; and divide the product by
“ the denominator ; if there be a remainder, multiply
“ it by the value of the next denomination, and conti-
“ nue the division.”
Ex. 1st.] Required the value 2d.] Required the value
off4 of il.
*7
20
6o)34°( 5
300
4°
12
60)480
480
d.
8
9
 — qrs.
9)32( 3
27
lb.
5
28
M E T I C. 645
In the first example, we multiply the numerator 17 Decimal
by 20, the number of shillings in a pound, and divide FractionK.
the product 340 by 60, the denominator of the frac-   
tion, and obtain a quotient of 5 shillings ; then we
multiply the remainder 40 by 12, the number of
pence in a shilling, which produces 480, which divid¬
ed by 60 quotes 8d. without a remainder. In the
second example we proceed in the same manner; but
as there is a remainder, the quotient is completed by a
fraction.
Sometimes the value of the fraction does not amount
to an unit of the lowest denomination ; but it may be
reduced to a fraction of that or any other denomina¬
tion, by multiplying the numerator according to the
value of the places. Thus a pound is equal
to xxfg- of a shilling, or TV^% of a penny, //W of a
farthing.
Chap. IX. DECIMAL FRACTIONS.
Sect. I. Notation and Reduction.
The arithmetic of vulgar fractions is tedious, and
even intricate to beginners. The difficulty arises chiefly
from the variety of denominators; for when numbers
are divided into different kinds of parts, they cannot be
easily compared. This consideration gave rise to the
invention of decimal fractions, where the units are di¬
vided into like parts ; and the divisions and subdivisions
are regulated by the same scale which is used in the
arithmetic of integers. The first figure of a decimal
fraction signifies tenth parts, the next hundredth parts,,
the next thousandth parts, and so on : and the columns
may be titled accordingly. Decimals are distinguished
by a point, which separates them from integers, if any
be prefixed.
The use of cyphers in decimals, as well as in inte¬
gers, is to bring the significant, figures to their proper
places, on which their value depends. As cyphers,
when placed on the left hand of an integer, have no
signification, but, when placed on the right hand, in¬
crease the value ten times each ; so cyphers, when pla¬
ced on the right hand of a decimal, have no significa¬
tion ; but, when placed on the left hand, diminish the
value ten times each.
The notation and numeration of decimals will be ob¬
vious from the following examples.
4.7 signifies Four and seven tenth parts.
•47
.047
•4°7
4.07
4.007
Four tenth parts, and seven hundredth
parts, or 47 hundredth parts.
Four hundredth parts, and seven thou¬
sandth parts, or 47 thousandth parts.
Four tenth parts, and seven thousandth
parts, or 407 thousandth parts.
Four, and seven hundredth parts.
Four, and seven .thousandth parts.
The column next the decimal point is sometimes
called decimal primes^ the next decimal seconds ; and
so on.
To reduce vulgar fractions to decimal ones : “ An-
“ nex a cypher to the numerator, and divide it by the
“ denominator, annexing a cypher continually to the
“remainder.”
Ex.
6^.6
Decimal Ex. 1st.] tt=.i6 2d.] ^=.078125 3d.] 4=.666
Fractions. 75)120(16 64)500(078125 3)20(666
75
45°
45°
18
20
18
20
18
20
4th.] 4=.83,3
6)50(83
48
5th.] t’t=*259
27)7oC259
54
*20
18
20
18
20
ARITHMETIC. Chap. ll
as Ex. 3d and 5th. If otherwise, as Ex. 4th and 6th, Decim
they are mixed repeaters or circulates, and the figures Fractic,
prefixed to those in regular succession are called the v" 4
finite part. Repeating figures are generally distinguish¬
ed by a dash, and circulates by a comma, or other mark,
at the beginning and end of the circle j and the begin¬
ning of a repeater or circulate is pointed out in the di¬
vision by an asterisk.
Lower denominations may be considered as fractions
ol higher ones, and reduced to decimals accordingly.
We may proceed by the following rule, which is the
same, in effect, as the former.
To reduce lower denominations to decimals of higher.
“ Annex a cypher to the lower denomination, and di-
“ vide it by the value of the higher. When there are
“ several denominations, begin at the lowest, and re-
“ duce them in their order.”
Ex. To reduce 5 cwt. 2. qr. 21 lb. to a decimal of a
ton?
28) 21 o(. 7 5 4)2.7506875 2o)5.6874(.284375
24
35
32
30
28
6th.] ,V=.3,i8,i8
22)70(31818
66
The reason of this operation will be evident, if we
consider that the numerator of a vulgar fraction is un¬
derstood to be divided by the denominator $ and this
division is actually performed when it is reduced to a
decimal.
In like manner, when there is a remainder left in di¬
vision, we may extend the quotient to a decimal, in¬
stead of completing it by a vulgar fraction, as in the
following example :
25)646(2544 or 25.84.
50
Rem. 21.0
200
100
100
o
From the foregoing examples, we may distinguish
the several kinds of decimals. Some vulgar fractions
may be reduced exactly to decimals, as Ex. 1st and
2d, and are called terminate or finite decimals. Others
cannot be exactly reduced, because the division al¬
ways leaves a remainder; but, by continuing the di¬
vision, we will perceive how the decimal may be ex¬
tended to any length whatever. These are called iifi-
nite decimals. If the same figure continually returns,
as in Ex. 3d and 4th, they are called repeaters. If two
or more figures return in their order, they are called
circulates. If this regular succession go on from the
beginning, they are called pure repeaters, or circulates,
20 75
20 60
O 150.
140
100
100
Here, in order to reduce 21 lb. to a decimal of 1 qr. we
annex a cypher, and divide by 28, the value of 1 qr.
This gives .75. Then we reduce 2.75 qrs. to a de¬
cimal of I cwt. by dividing by 4, the value of I cwt.
and it comes to .6875. Lastly, 5.6875 cwt. is redu¬
ced to a decimal of a ton by dividing by 20, and comes
to .284375.
To value a decimalfraction. “ Multiply it by the
“ value of the denomination, and cut off as many de-
“ cimal places from the product as there are in the mul¬
tiplicand. The rest are integers of the lower deno-
“ mination.”
Example.
Mhat is the value of .425 of L. 1 ?
•425
20
sh. 8.500
6
d. 3.000
Sect. II. Arithmetic o/Terminate Decimals.
The value of decimal places decreases like that of in¬
tegers, ten of the lower place in either being equal to
one of the next higher i and the same holds in passing
from decimals to integers. Therefore, all the opera¬
tions are performed in the same way with decimals,
whether
27
Chap. IX. ARITHMETIC
Decimal whether placed by themselves or annexed to integers,
Fractions, as with pure integers. The only peculiarity lies in the
k— v arrangement and pointing of the decimals.
In addition and subtraction, “ Arrange units under
“ units, tenth parts under tenth parts, and proceed as
“ in integers.” *
from 13.348 and 12.248
take 9.2993 10.6752
32*°35
116.374
160.63
i2-3645
4.0487
1.5728
331 *4035 .
In multiplication, “ Allow as many decimal places
“ in the product as there are in both factors. If the
44 product has not so many places, supply them by pre-
“ fixing cyphers on the left hand.”
fix. 1st.] I.37 2d.] 43.75 3d.] .1572
1.8 .48 .12
35000
17500
.01864
2.466 21.0000
The reason of this rule may be explained, by observ¬
ing, that the value of the product depends on the va¬
lue of the factors ; and since each decimal place in ei¬
ther factor diminishes its value ten times, it must equal¬
ly diminish the value of the product.
To multiply decimals by 10, move the decimal point
one place to the right; to multiply by 100, 1000, or
the like, move it as many places to the right as there
are cyphers in the multiplier.
In division, “ Point the quotient so that there may
“ be an equal number of decimal places in the dividend
“ as in the divisor and quotient together.”
Therefore, if there be the same of decimal places in
the divisor and dividend, there will be as many in the
quotient.
If there be more in the dividend, the quotient will
have as many as the dividend has more than the di¬
visor.
If there be more in the divisor, we must annex (or
suppose annexed) as many cyphers to the dividend as
may complete the number in the divisor, and all the
figures of the quotient are integers.
If the division leave a remainder, the quotient may
be extended to more decimal places; but these are not
regarded in fixing the decimal point.
The reason for fixing the decimal point, as directed,
may be inferred from the rule followed in multiplica¬
tion. The quotient multiplied by the divisor produces
the dividend 5 and therefore the number of decimal
places in the dividend is equal to those in the divisor
and quotient together.
The first figure of the quotient is always at the same
distance from the decimal point, and on the same side
as the figure of the dividend, which stands above the
unit place of the first product. This also takes place in
integers : and the reason is the same in both.
It was formerly observed, that numbers were dimi¬
nished when multiplied by proper fractions, and increas¬
ed when divided by the same. Thus, multiplication by
fractions corresponds with division by integers ; and
division by fractions with multiplication by integers 5
when we multiply by 4- or *5» we obtain the same an-
647
swer as when we divide by 2, and every integer has a Decimal
correspondent decimal, which may be called its red- Fraction*.
procal. Multiplication by that decimal supplies the v*—"v""'
place of division by the integer, and division supplies
the place of multiplication.
To find the reciprocal of any number, divide I with
cyphers annexed by that number.
Ex. Required the reciprocal of 625.
625)1.ooo(.0016
625
The product of any number multiplied by .0016 is
the same as the quotient divided by 625. Example.
625)9375(i5 9375
625 .0016
3I25
3i25
56250
9375
o 15.0000
Because .0016 is of unity, any number multi¬
plied by that fraction will be diminished 625 times.
For a like reason, the quotient of any number divided
by .0016, will be equal to the product of the same mul¬
tiplied by 625. Example.
.0016)516.0000(322500 516
48 
36
32
40
32
322500
80
80
Sect. III. Approximate Decimals.
It has been shown that some decimals, though ex¬
tended to any length, are never complete and others,
which terminate at last, sometimes consist of so many
places, that it would be difficult in practice to extend
them fully. In these cases, we may extend the decimal
to three, four, or more places, according to the nature
of the articles, and the degree of accuracy required,
and reject the rest of it as inconsiderable. In this man¬
ner we may perform any operation with ease by the
common rules, and the answers we obtain are sufficient¬
ly exact for any purpose in business. Decimals thus re¬
stricted are called approximates.
Shillings, pence, and farthings, may be easily redu¬
ced to decimals of three places, by the following rule.
Take half the shillings for the first decimal place, and
the number of farthings increased by one, if it amount
to 24 or upwards; by two, if it amount to 48 or up¬
wards j and by three, if it amount to 72 or upwards,
for the two next places.
The reason of this is, that 20 shillings make a pound, .
two shillings is the tenth part ot a pound j and there¬
fore
28
648
Deciriial fore half the number of shillings makes the first deci-
I ractions, nial place. If there were 50 farthings in a shilling,
v or 1000 in a pound, the units of the farthings in the
remainder would be thousandth parts, and the tens
would be hundredth parts, and so would give the two
next decimal places ; but because there are only 48
farthings in a shilling, or 960 in a pound, every far¬
thing is a little more than the thousandth part of a
pound ; and since 24 farthings make 25 thousandth
parts, allowance is made for that excess by adding 1
for every 24 farthings, as directed.
Tf the number of farthings be 24, 48, or 72, and
consequently the second and third decimal places 25,
50, and 75, they are exactly right 5 otherwise they are
not quite complete, since there should be an allowance
of W? n°t °nly for 24, 48, and 72 farthings, but for
every other single farthing. They may be complet¬
ed by the following rule: Multiply the second and
third decimal places, or their excess above 25, 50, 75,
by 4. If the product amount to 24 or upwards,
add 1 ; if 48, add 2 j if 72, add 3. By this ope¬
ration we obtain two decimal places more 5 and by
continuing the same operation, we may extend the
decimal till it terminate in 25, 50, 75, or in a re¬
peater.
Decimals of sterling money of three places may ea¬
sily he reduced to shillings, pence, and farthings, hy
the following rule: Double the first decimal place, and
it the second he 5 or upwards, add 1 thereto for shil-
lings. . I hen divide the second and third decimal places,
or their excess above 50, by 4, first deducing 1, if it
amount to 25, or upwards 3 the quotient is pence, and
the remainder farthings.
As this rule is the converse of the former one, the
reason of the one may be inferred from that of the other.
The value obtained by it, unless the decimal terminate
f.n 25> 5° or 75> is * little more than the true value;
for there should be a deduction, not only of I for 25,
but a little deduction of on the remaining figures of
these places.
M e proceed to give some examples of the arithme¬
tic of approximates, and subjoin any necessary ohserva-
Addition.
lb.
14= 3.625
22= 2.94642
19= 3-61964
25= 4-47321
ARITHMETIC. Chap. ]
Multiplication. I)eci,
Meth. ISt] 8278-}- JM. 2d] 8278 3d] 8278 Fracti
2I53+ 2153 35I21 r
Cwt.
3
2
3
4
qrs.
2
3
3
I
Subtraction.
Cwt. qrs. lb.
3 2 2 = 3.51785
1 119= 1.41964
3 “ 11
2.09821
14 3 24 14.96427
If we value the sum of the approximates, it will fall
a httle short of the sum of the articles, because the de¬
cimals are not complete.
Some add 1 to the last decimal place of the approxi¬
mate, when the following figure would have been c
or upwards. Thus the full decimal of 3qrs. 22lb. is
.946,428571, and therefore .94643 is nearer to it than
.946,42. Approximates, thus regulated, will in gene¬
ral give exacter answers, and sometimes above the true
one, sometimes below it.
The mark signifies that the approximate is less
than the exact decimal, or requires something to be
added. The mark — signifies that it is greater, or re¬
quires something to be subtracted.
24834
4I39°
8278
16556
16556
827
413
24
8
90
834
16556
827
413
24
178212534 i7^2|2534 1782
Here the last four places are quite uncertain. The
right-hand figure of each particular product is obtained
by multiplying 8 into the figures of the multiplier 3
but if the multiplicand had been extended, the carriage
from the right-hand place would have been taken in 3
consequently the right-hand place of each particular
product, and the four places of the total product, which
depend on these, are quite uncertain. Since part of the
operation therefore is useless, we may omit it; and for
this purpose, it will be convenient to begin (as in p. 629.
col. \. fifth variety) at the highest place of the multi¬
plier. We may perceive that all the figures on the
right hand of the line on Meth. 2. serve no purpose, and
may be left out, if we only multiply the figures on the
multiplicand, whose products are placed on the right
baud of the line. 1 his is readily done by inverting*
the multiplier in Meth. 3. and beginning each product
with the multiplication of that figure which stands above
the figure of the multiplier that produces it, and in¬
cluding the carriage from the right-hand place.
If both factors be approximates, there are as many
uncertain places, at least in the product, as in the
longest factor. If only one be an approximate, there are
as many uncertain places as there are figures in that
factor, and sometimes a place or two more, which
might be affected by the carriage. Hence we may in¬
fer, how far it is necessary to extend the approximates,
in order to obtain the requisite number of certain places
in the product.
Division.
•3724-~)798 64327 + (2i44 or 3^4)79864327(2i44
7448 7448
16I602
141896
1I7063
1I4892
rr 2171 4
Here all the figures on the right hand of the line
are uncertain; for the right-hand figure of the first pro-
' duct 7448 might be altered by the carriage, if the divi¬
sor were extended 3 and all the remainders and dividu-
als that follow are thereby rendered uncertain. We
may omit these useless figures 3 for which purpose, we
dash a figure on the right hand of the divisor at each
step, and neglect it when we multiply by the figure of
the quotient next obtained 3 but we include the car¬
riage. The operation, and the reason of it, will appear
clear, by comparing the operation at large, and con¬
tracted, in the above example.
Chap.
Intermi-
nate
Dcciiaals
■ X- ARITHMETIC.
Chap. X. INTERMIX ATE DECIMALS.
Sect. I. Reduction o/'Interminate Decimals.
649
Ex. -^=.03125, a decimal of 5 places, and 32=4. i,ltenni
3 2) 1.00000(.03 125 nate
96 • • • Decimals,
As the arithmetic of interminate decimals, otherwise
called the arithmetic of infinites, is facilitated by com¬
paring them with vulgar fractions, it will be proper to
inquire what vulgar fractions produce the several kinds
of decimals, terminate or interminate, repeaters or cir¬
culates, pure or mixed. And first, we may observe,
that vulgar fractions, which have the same denominator,
produce decimals of the same kind. If the decimals
corresponding to the numerator 1 be known, ail others
are obtained by multiplying these into any given nume¬
rator, and always retain the same form, providing the
vulgar fraction be in its lowest terms.
Thus, the decimal equal to 4 is .142857
which multiplied by 3
produces the decimal equal to 4- .428571
Secondly, If there be cyphers annexed to the signifi¬
cant figures of the denominator, there will be an equal
number of additional cyphers prefixed to the decimal.
The reason of this will be evident, if we reduce these
vulgar fractions to decimals, or if we consider that each
cypher annexed to the denominator diminishes the value
of the vulgar fraction ten times, and each cypher pre¬
fixed has a like effect on the value of the decimal.
Thus, 4—142857, 7t—-28 ?V=-o,45
T3-=*0,142857, 0028 ■5-tVo=-00O,45
We may therefore confine our attention to vulgar frac¬
tions whose numerator is 1, and which have no cy¬
phers annexed to the significant figures of the denomi¬
nator.
Thirdly, Vulgar fractions, whose denominators are
2 or 5, or any of their powers, produce terminate deci-
malsj for if any power of 2 be multiplied by the same
power of 5, the product is an equal power of 10, as ap¬
pears from the following table
2 X 5 =10
22 or 4 X 5* or 25= 100 or 101
2s or 8 x 53 or 125=: 1000 or 103
2* or 16 X 54 or 625= 10000 or 104
2s or 32 X 5s or 3125= 100000 or io*
And the reason is easily pointed out: for 23 X 5 3= 2X2
X2X5X5X5; or, because the factors may be taken
in any order, = 2X5- X2X5X2X5J and this, if we
multiply the factors by pairs, becomes 10 X 10 X or
io1. The like may be shown of any other power.
And we may infer, that if any power of 10 be divided
by a like power of 2 or 5, the quotient will be an equal
power of 5 or 2 respectively, and will come out exact,
without a remainder j and, since the vulgar fractions
above mentioned are reduced to decimals by some such
division, it follows that the equivalent decimals are ter¬
minate.
The number of places in the decimal is pointed out
by the exponent of the power j for the dividend must
be a like power of 10, or must have an equal number
of cyphers annexed to I, and each cypher of the divi¬
dend gives a place of the quotient.
Vol. IL Part II. f
40
32
80
64
160
160
Again, No denominators except 2, 5, or their powers,
produce terminate decimals. It is obvious from p. 63 k
col. 2. par. 4. that, if any denominator which produces a
terminate decimal be multiplied thereby, the product
will consist of 1, with cyphers annexed j and consequent¬
ly the lowest places of the factors, multiplied into each
other, must amount to 10, 20, or the like, in order to
supply a cypher for the lowest place of the product ;
but none of the digits give a product of this kind, ex¬
cept 5 multiplied by the even numbers j therefore one
of the factors must terminate in 5> 3-od the other in an
even number. The former is measured by 5, and the
latter by 2, as was observed p. 630. col, 2. par. 7. Let
them be divided accordingly, and let the quotients be
multiplied. This last product will be exactly one-tenth
part of the former; and therefore will consist of 1, with
cyphers annexed, and the factors which produce it are
measured by 5 and 2, as was shewn before. This ope¬
ration may be repeated ; and one of the factors may be
divided by 5, and the other by 2, till they be exhaust¬
ed ; consequently they are powers of 5 and 2.
Fourthly, Vulgar fractions, whose denominators are
3 or 9, produce repeating decimals.
Thus, fzr.i if 4=55*
•g-—.222 yOV^z=:66Q
4 or 4=-33^ 4=77^
§—•444 J-—88$
The repeating figure is always the same as the nume¬
rator. Hence we infer, that repeating figures signify
ninth parts; a repeating 3 signifies 4; a repeating 6 sig¬
nifies 4 > and a repeating 9 signifies -§-> or 1.
The value of repeating decimals may also be illus¬
trated by collecting the values of the diflerent places:
for example, let the value of Ii2 be required: the first
decimal place signifies T%, the next, the next t^oo-
The sum of the two first places is °f three
places r0V0' > an<* 80 on- If we subtract these values
successively from 4> the first remainder is the second
g-J-oj the third g~oVo* Thus, when the value of the
successive figures is reckoned, the amount of them ap¬
proaches nearer and nearer to 4» and the difference be¬
comes 10 times less for each figure assumed ; and, since
the decimal may be extended to any length, the differ¬
ence will at last become so small, that it need not be re¬
garded. This may give a notion of a decreasing series,
whose sum maybe exactly ascertained, though the num¬
ber of terms be unlimited.
Fifthly, Vulgar fractions, whose denominators are
a product of 3 or 9 multiplied by 2, 5, or any of their
powers, produce mixed repeaters. The reason of this
will be evident, if, in forming the decimal, we divide
the numerator successively by the component parts of
the denominator, as directed p. 630. eol. I. par. ult.
4 N &c.
6so
A R I T H
Intel mi- r^'|lie divisor is 2, 5, or some of their powers,
nate and consequently gives a finite quotient by p. 649, col.
Decimals, x. par. 3, &c. The second divisor is 3 or 9 ; and there-
— f0re, when the figures of the dividend are exhausted, and
figures annexed to the remainder, the quotient will re¬
peat, by p. 649. col. 2. par. 2.
Ex. 144=16x9.
9
144) 1.000(0069^ or 16)1.oo(.0625
864
96.00694
1360
1296
* 640
576
40
32
80
80
640 o
In order to illustrate this subject farther, we shall ex¬
plain the operation of casting out the threes, which re¬
sembles that for casting out the nines, formerly laid down,
P* 633. col. 2. par. 4.—p. 634. col. 2. par. 3.and depends
on the same principles, being a method of finding the re¬
mainder of a number divided by 3. If the same number
be divided by 3 and by 9, the remainders will either a-
gree, or the second remainder will exceed the first by 3
or by 6. The reason ol this will be obvious, if we sup¬
pose a collection of articles assorted into parcels of 3,
and afterwards into parcels of 9, by joining three of the
former together. If the lesser parcels be all taken up
in composing the greater ones, the remainder will be
the same at the end of the second assortment as before j
but if one of these lesser parcels be leftover, the re¬
mainder will be more, and if two of them be left over,
the remainder will be 6 more. Therefore, when the
nines are cast out from any number, and the result di¬
vided by 3, the remainder is the same as when the num¬
ber is divided by 3 : Thus, the results on casting out
the 3 s may be derived from those obtained by casting
out the 9’s j and the same correspondence which was
pointed out with respect to the latter, for proving the
operations of arithmetic, applies also to the former!
lo cast out the 3’s from any number, add the figures,
neglecting 3, 6, or 9 j and, when the sum amounts
to 3, 6, or 9, reject them ; and carry on the computa¬
tion with the excess only. For example, take 286754:
in casting out the tfs We compute thus ; 2 and 8 is 10,
which is three times 3, and 1 over ; 1 and (passing by
6) 7 is 8, which is twice 3 and 2 over ; 2 and c is 7,
wmch is twice 3 and 1 over 5 lastly, 1 and 4 is 5, which
contains 3 once, and 2 over, so the result is 2.
If the 3’s be cast out from 2* or 4, the result is 1 :
from 2» or 8, the result is 2 ; from 2* or 16, the result
is 1 ; and universally the odd powers of 2 give a result
ot 2, and the even powers give a result of 1. As
every h.gher power is produced by multiplying the
next lower by 2, the result of the product may be
found by multiplying the result of the lower power
r cast*ng 0llt the 3’a if necessary. There¬
fore ir the result of any power be one, that of the next
higher is 2, and that of the next higher (4 with the a’s
cast out, or) 1. Thus the results of the powers of 2 are
1 and 2 by turns $ also, because the result of c, when
the 3’s are cast out, is 2, its powers will have the same
/•©amts as tire corresponding powers of 2.
M E T I C. Chap [,
If the denominator be a product of an even power inter
of 2 or 5, multiplied by 3, the repeating figure of the nat
corresponding decimal is 3 j but, if it be the product Dccin *•
of an odd power, the repeating figure is 6. For, in
forming the decimal, we may divide by the component
parts of the denominator, and the first divisor is a
power of 2 or 5; therefore the first quotient is a like
power of 4 or 2 (p. 649. col. 1. par. 3. &c.) and this
power is again divided by 4. If it be an even power, the
remainder or result is 1, as was demonstrated above j
and if cyphers be annexed to the remainder, and the
division continued, it quotes a repeating 3 ; but it be
an odd power, the remainder is 2, and the quotient
continued by annexing cyphers is a repeating 6.
If the denominator be 9, multiplied by 2, or any of
its powers, the repeating figure may be found by cast¬
ing out the 9’s from the corresponding power, by 5 ;
and if it be multiplied by 5, or any of its powers, by
casting out the 9’s from the corresponding power of 2.
lor if the decimal be formed by two divisions, the first
quotes the corresponding power $ and the second, be¬
cause the divisor is 9, repeats the resulting figure after
the dividend is exhausted.
If any mixed repeater be multiplied by 9, the product
is a terminate decimal, and may be reduced (p. 649.
col. 1. par. 3. &c.) to a vulgar fraction, ivhose deno¬
minator is 2, 5, or some of their powers ; therefore all
mixed repeaters are derived from vulgar fractions, whose
denominators are products of 2, 5, or their powers,
multiplied by 3 or 9.
Sixthly, All denominators, except 2, 5, 3, 9, the
powers of 2 and 5, and the products of these powers,
multiplied by 3 or 9, produce circulating decimals.
We have already shown, that all terminate decimals are
derived from 2, 5, or their powers 5 all pure repeaters,
from 3 or 9 ; and all mixed repeaters, from the pro¬
ducts of the former multiplied by the latter. The num¬
ber of places in the circle is never greater than the
denominator diminished by unity; Thus ^ produces.
•i42857» a decimal ol 6 places j and produces
.0588235294117647, a decimal of 16 places. The
reason of this limit may be inferred from the division j
lor whenever a remainder which has recurred before, re¬
turns again, the decimal must circulate, and the greatest
number of possible remainder is one less than the divi¬
sor : But frequently the circle is much shorter. Thus
tt—*09, a circle of 2 places.
When a vulgar fraction, whose numerator is 1, pro¬
duces a pure circulate, the product of the circle multi¬
plied by the denominator, will consist of as many p’s
as there are places in the circle. Thus 4—.142857,
which multiplied by 7 produces 999999. The like
holds in every decimal of the same kind ; for they are
formed by dividing 10, or 100, or 1000, or some like
number, by the denominator, and the remainder is 1,
when the decimal begins to circulate $ for the division
must be then exactly in the same state as at the begin-
ing: Therefore, if the dividend had been Jess by 1, or
had consisted entirely of 9’s, the division would have
come out without a remainder; and since the quotient
multiplied by the divisor, produces the dividend, as was
shown p. 631. col. 2. par. 3. it follows, that the circu¬
lating figures, multiplied by the denominator, produce
an equal number of 9’s.
Every vqlgar fraction, which produces a pure circu-
late*
Chap. X.
ARITHMETIC.
Intermi- late> equal to one whose numerator is the circulating
nate figures, and its denominator a like number of p’s. If
Decimals, the numerator be I, the vulgar fraction is reduced to
1—* ' that form by multiplying both terms into the circle of
the decimal j and if the numerator be more than i,
the equivalent decimal is found by multiplying that
which corresponds to the numerator I into any other
numerator.
Thus T-=.i42857,rr:-^4-|'l47 ant^
T—285714,
—tlinf?? tV—°54-=9W
$•=•428571 ,—-IJisIrrsF tV—2I6.=f^4
Hence we may infer, that pure circulates are equal in
value to vulgar fractions whose numerators consist of the
circulating figures, and denominators of as many p’s as
there are places in the circle. To place this in another
point of view, we shall reduce a vulgar fraction, whose
numerator consists entirely of p’s, to a decimal.
Mi 990)375000(*375»
2pp7‘•
753°
6993
537°
4995
*315
The remainder is now the same as the dividend, and
therefore the quotient must circulate j and, in general,
since any number with 3 cyphers annexed, may be di¬
vided by IOOO, without a remainder, and quotes the
significant figures j therefore, when divided by ppp, it
must quote the same figures, and leave an equal remain¬
der. This also applies to every divisor which consists
entirely of p’s. Circles of two places, therefore, signify
ninety-ninth parts ; circles of 3 places, signify nine hun¬
dred and ninety-ninth parts ; and so on.
The value of circulating decimals may also be illu¬
strated by adding the values of the places. Thus, if
two figures circulate, the first circle signifieth hundredth
parts, and every following circle signifies one hundred
times less than the preceding *, and their values added,
as in p. 64P. col. 2. par. 3. will approach nearer to
ninety-ninth parts than any assigned difierence, but will
never exactly complete it.
All denominators which are powers of 3, except p,
produce pure circulates } and the number of places in
the circle is equal to the quotient of the denominator
divided by p.
Thus, 7rV=.037, a circle of 3 places, and 27 divided
by p=3
/x=.oi234567p, a circle of p places, and 81
divided by p=p-
These decimals may be formed, by dividing the rm-_
merator by the component parts of the denominator.
In the first example, the component parts of the nume¬
rator are p and 3. The division by p quotes a pure
circulate, and the circulating figure is not 3, 6, or p,
if the vulgar fraction be in its lowest terms. And any
other repeating figure divided by 3, quotes a pure cir¬
culate of 3 places j for the first dividual must leave a
remainder of 1 or 2, If the first remainder be I, the
second remainder is 2, (because, if 1 be prefixed to
the repeating figure, and the 3’s be cast out, the result
is 2), and, for a like reason, the third dividual clears
off without a remainder. If the first remainder be 2,
the second is (twice 2 or 4, with the 3’s cast out, or)
1, and the third 0$ so the circle is always complete
at 3 places, and the division begins anew. The sum of
such a circle cannot be a multiple of 3 ; for since the
repeating figure is not 3, nor any of its multiples, the
sum of 3 places is not a multiple of p, and therefore
cannot be divided by p, nor twice by 3, without a re¬
mainder.
Again, If the decimal equal to -/T be divided by 3,
we shall obtain the decimal equal to -jV. The dividend,
as we have shown already, is a pure circulate of 3
places, whose sum is not a multiple of 3. Therefore,
when divided by 3, the first circle leaves a remainder
of 1 or 2, which being prefixed to the second, and the
division continued, the remainder at the end of the
second circle, is 2 or I, and at the end of the third
circle, there is no remainder j all which may be illu¬
strated by casting out the 3’s. The division being com¬
pleted at p places, finishes the circle $ and it may be
shown, as before, that the sum of these places is not a
multiple of 3. The learner will apprehend all this if
he reduce these, or the like vulgar fractions, to deci¬
mals, by successive divisions.
27= 9X3, and p)i.o(.inx, and 3) in*(.037,
81=27x3* and 3)037>037>°37(-012345679-
For the same reason, if any circulating decimal, not
a multiple of 3, be divided by 3, the quotient will cir¬
culate thrice as many places as the dividend ; and if
any circulate obtained by such division be multiplied by
3, the circle of the product will be restricted to one-
third of the places in the multiplicand.
All vulgar fractions, whose denominators are multi¬
ples of 2, 5, or their powers, except those already con¬
sidered, produce mixed circulates 5 for they may be re¬
duced by dividing by the component parts of the deno¬
minator. The first divisor is 2, $, or some of theif-
powers, and therefore gives a fine quotient. The se¬
cond divisor is none of the numbers enumerated p. 650.
col. 2. par. 2. and therefore gives a circulating quotient
when the significant figures of the dividend are ex¬
hausted, and cyphers annexed to the remainder.
Ex. tcyz
2i6)i.ooo(.oo4,62p,
864
*1360
I2p6
640
432
2080
1944
*1360
216=27 x8,
or 8)1.000
27) .i25(.oo4,62p,
108
*170
162
80
54
260
243
17
All mixed circulates are derived from vulgar frac-
4 N 2 tlca’
6^2
ARITHMETIC.
Interim- tions of this kind, whose denominators are multiples
nate of 2, 5, or their powers ; and therefore all other de-
Decimals. nominators, except 8 and 9, produce pure circulates.
v ' The reader will easily perceive, that when a decimal is
formed from a vulgar fraction, whose numerator is 1,
when the remainder 1 occurs in the division the deci¬
mal is a pure circulate ; but if any other remainder oc¬
curs twice, the decimal is a mixed circulate. We are
to show that this last will never happen, unless the di¬
visor be a multiple of 2, 5, or their powers. If two
numbers be prime to each other, their product will be
prime to both ; and if two numbers be proposed,
whereof the first does not measure the second, it will
not measure any product of the second, if the multiplier
be prime to the first. Thus, because 7 does not mea¬
sure 12, it will not measure any product of 12 by a
multiplier prime to 7. For instance, it w'ill not measure
I 2 X 3? 01-36. Otherwise, the quotient of I 2 divided
by 7, or 14 multiplied by 3, would be a whole number,
and 5X3 would be measured by 7, which it cannot be,
since 5 and 3 are both prime to 7.
Now, if we inspect the foregoing operation, we shall
perceive that the product of 136, the remainder where
the decimal begins to circulate, multiplied by 999, is
measured by the denominator 216. But 999 is not
measured by the denominator, otherwise the decimal
would have been a pure circulate j therefore 126 and
136 are not prime to each other, but have a common
measure, and that measure must apply to 864, a mul¬
tiple of 126, and to 1000, the sum of 136 and 864 $
see p. 642, col. 2. par. ult. &c. But it was proven,
p. 649, col. 1. par. 1. that no numbers, except the
powers of 5 and 2, measure a number consisting of 1
with cyphers annexed 5 consequently the denominator
must be measured by a power of 2 or 5. The reader
will perceive, that the exponent of the power must be
1 the same as the number of cyphers annexed to 1, or
as the number of figures in the finite part of the de¬
cimal.
We shall now recapitulate the substance of what has
been said with respect to the formation of decimals : 2,
5, and their powers, produce finite decimals, by p. 649,
col. 1. par. 3, &c. and the number of places is mea¬
sured by the exponent of the power j 3 ar>d 9 produce
pure repeaters (p. 649. col. 2. par. 2.) The products
ot 2, 5, and their powers, by 3 or 9, produce mixed re¬
peaters by p. 649. col. 2. par. ult. ; their products by
other multipliers, produce mixed circulates by p. 649.
col. 2. par. ult.; and all numbers of which 2 and 5 are
not aliquot parts, except 3 and 9, produce pure circu¬
lates. lo find the form of a decimal corresponding to
any denominator, divide by 2, 5, and 10, as often as
can be done without a remainder; the number of divi¬
sions shows how many finite places there are in the deci¬
mal, by p. 651. col. 2. par. 3. If the dividend be not
exhausted by these divisions, divide a competent number
of 9 s by the last quotient, till the division be completed
without a remainder : the number of 9’s required show
how many places there are in the circle ; and the reason
may be inferred from p. 650. col. 2. par. 5.
We shall conclude this subject by marking down the
decimal produced by vulgar fractions, whose nume¬
rator is 1, and denominator 30; and under that the
reader may observe their connexion with the denomi¬
nators. .
4- —
I _
T—
1 __
ZfZz:
1 
¥—
1 
9 
I  
To —
1  
XT 
* —
1 2 —
T  
iT—
1   
'i'A —
1 __
IT—
5
333
25
2
1666
i42857
I25
l IX
I
09,09,
°%333
079623
c,7i4285
0,660
tV— •°625
^=•0588235294117647
tV“*055£
^=.052631578947368421,
-5Io=-05
-$t=>0476i9,
■A=>o,45,45,
^=.04347826086956521739x3,
#041 66$
TT— •°4
yV=-0»3846l5>
•5t=-037»
tV=-°3i57i428
^V=.0j44Si7SS62o6S9<J55I724I3793T,
tV=.0332
IIules Jar reducing interminate decimals to vulgar
fractions.
I. “ If the decimal be a pure repeater, place the re-
“ peating figure for the numerator, and 9 for the deno-
“ minator.”
II. “ If the decimal be a pure circulate, place the
“ circulating figures for the numerator, and as many
“ 9’s as there are places in the circle for the denomi-
“ nator.”
HI* “ If there be cyphers prefixed to the repeating
“ or circulating figures, annex a like number to the 9’$
“ in the denominator.”
IV. “ If the decimal be mixed, subtract the finite
“ part from the whole decimal. The remainder is the
“ numerator; and the denominator consists of as many
“ 9’s as there are places in the circle, together with
“ as many cyphers as there are finite places before the
“ circle.”
Thus, 235,62,
From the whole decimal 23562
W7e subtract the finite part 235
Chap.
and the remainder 23327 is the numerator.
The reason may be illustrated by dividing the deci¬
mal into two parts, whereof one is finite, and the other
a pure repeater or circulate, with cyphers prefixed. The
sum of the vulgar fractions corresponding to these will
be the value of the decimal sought.
.235,62, may be divided into .235/4^ by Rule I.
and .000,62=^^- by Rules II. HR
In order to add these vulgar fractions, we reduce them
to a common denominator; and, for that purpose, we
multiply both terms of the former by 99, which gives
5 then we add the numerators.
235 or by method explained p. 628. col. 1. par 3.
99
Sum of numerators.
21JS 23500 23265 or 23562
2II5 235 62 235
'n26'9 1 r -232f5. , . 23327 - 23327
I he value ot circulating decimals is rot altered,
though one or more places be separated from the circle’
and considered as a finite part, providing the circle be
completed. For example, .27 may be written .2,72,
or J4> which is also the value of .27. And if two
or more circles be joined, the value of the decimal is
still the same Thus, 2727,=^, which is reduced
by dividing the terms by 101 to |-J.
All
Chap. X.
Interim- All circulating decimals may be reduced to a similar
Iiate form, having a like number both of finite and circula-
Decimals. t;ng places. For this purpose, we extend the finite part
u , of eath as far as the longest, and then extend all the cir¬
cles U) so many places as may be a multiple of the num¬
ber of places in each.
Ex. .34,725, extended, .34>725725725725,
1,4562, 14,562456245624,
Here the finite part of both is extended to'two places,
and the circle to 12 places, which is the least multiple
for circles of 3 and 4 places.
Sect. II. Addition and Subtraction of Intermi-
nate Decimals.
To add repeating Decimals. “ Extend the repeating
figures one place beyond the longest finite ones, and
“ when you add the right-hand column, carry to the
next by 9.”
> V r ^ V O n, r\
TV
1 1
1 t
TT
2
TT
^53
arithmetic.
'To subtract circulating Decimals. “ Extend them
“ tjll they become similar ; and when you subtract the nate
“ right-hand figure, consider whether 1 would have Decimals.
“ been borrowed if the circles had been extended fur- v J
“ ther, and make allowance accordingly.
.5.72, .974, or .974974 .8,135, or .8,135135,
•4,?50, .qo, .868686 .452907 or .4,529074,
E.r.
.37524 or 37524
.8  
•643
•73
643
7333-3
•3^
.469^
•3^
.29^
.42
•7548
•31
264046
To subtract repeating Decimals. “ Extend them as
directed for addition, and borrow at the right-hand
“ place, if necessary, by 9.”
.93566 .646 .735$ .738# .469
•8473$ .5342^ .62563 .6$ .3*
.08721^ .1117^
The reason of these rules will be obvious, if we recol¬
lect that repeating figures signify nine parts. If the
right-hand figure of the sum or remainder be o, the de¬
cimal obtained is finite j otherwise it is a repeater.
To add circulating Decimals. “ Extend them till
“ they become similar fp. 652. col. 1. par. ult. &c.) ;
“ and when you add the right-hand column, include
“ the figure which would have been carried if the cir-
“ cle had been extended further.”
Ex. ist.]
•574,
.2,698,
.428
'37,983
Extended.
•574,574,
.269,869,
.428
•379,839,
Ex. 2d.]
.874,
•i46-3
.1,58,
•32,
Extended.
.874,874,874,
•I4^’333333,
.158,585858,
.323,232323,
1.652,284, . _ 1.503,026390,
Note I. Repeaters mixed with circulates are extended
and added as circulates.
Note 2. Sometimes it is necessary to inspect two or
more columns for ascertaining the carriage j because
the carriage from a lower column will sometimes raise
the sum of the higher, so as to alter the carriage from
it to a new circle. This occurs in Ex. 2.
Note 3. The sum of the circles must be considered as
a similar circle. If it consist entirely of cyphers, the
amount is terminate. If all the figures be the same,
the amount is a repeater. If they can be divided into
parts exactly alike, the amount is a circle of fewer places;
but, for the most part, the circle of the sum is similar to
the extended circles.
.3,868,
•4,375,
.853492,
.62,
.0842,
.08,42
.0,842
.0842
TT
1 6
TT
.368
•57,
•895
.742
.003094.
.765,
.76,
.765
s
TT,
•0,85,
.106288,
.3,606060,
or, 3,60
Sect. III. Multiplication o/'Interminate Deci¬
mals.
Case I. “ When the multiplier is finite and the
“ multiplicand repeats, carry by 9 when you multiply
“ the repeating figure : The right-hand figure of each
“ line of the product is a repeater ; and they must be
“ extended and added accordingly.”
Ex- *13494
.376
9446/
809666
4°4833.3
.•0495246X
If the sum of the right-hand column be an even*
number of 9’s, the product is finite ; otherwise, it is a
repeater.
Case II. “ When the multiplier is finite, and the
“ multiplicand circulates, add to each product of the
“ right-hand figure the carriage which would have
“ been brought to it if the circle had been extended.
“ Each 1 ine of the product is a circle similar to the
“ multiplicand, and therefore they must be extended.
“ and added accordingly.”
The product is commonly a circulate similar to the
multiplicand ; sometimes it circulates fewer places,
repeats, or becomes finite ; it never circulates more
places.
Ex. .37,46, X-235
235,
187,32,
1123,93,
7492,92,
1.
2.
3‘
4-
5*
6.
674.
37,
625,
4793,
3,75,
X.78
X -86
X.42
X 4-8
X 1.24
2,963, X.36
.08804,19,
Case HI. “ When the multiplier repeats or cir-
“ culates, find the product as in infinite multipliers, and
“ place under it the products which wotdd have arisen
“ from the repeating or circulating figures, if extend-
“ ed.”
jEk. ist.]
2d.]
.784-I-.36
361
28224
282
•8513
24
2|8224
.284,09,
3i
3<1-]
^54
Intcrmi-
nate
Decimals.
3<l.i .714285, X 54.
54
2859142
357i4285
ARITHMETIC. Chap.:
The multiplication of interminate decimals may be Intemi
often facilitated, by reducing the multiplier to a vul- nate
gar fraction, and proceeding as directed p. 643. col. 1. Decima
par. 6. ' ’
Thus,
38,571428
3857M
3857
38
57t428
285714
i42857
C71428
3857i4
3857
38
571428,
2857i4,
142857,
571428,
3857i4>
142857,
57i428,
3857i4»
3857,
38,
38,961038,961038,961038,
It is evident, that if a repeating multiplier be ex¬
tended to any length, the product arising from each fi¬
gure will be the same as the first, and each will stand
one place to the right hand of the former. In like
manner, if a circulating multiplier be extended, the
product arising from each circle will be alike, and will
stand as many places to the right hand of the former
as there are figures in the circle. In the foregoing
examples, there are as many of these products re¬
peated as is necessary for finding the total product.
If we place down more, or extend them further, it
will only give a continuation of the repeaters or circu¬
lates.
This is obvious in Ex. 1st and 2d. As the learner
may not comprehend it so readily in Ex. 3d. when the
multiplicand is a circulate, and consequently each line
of the product is also a circulate, we have divided it in¬
to columns, whose sums exhibit the successive circles.
The sum of the first column is 38,961037, and there
is a carnage of 1 from the right-hand column, which
completes 38,961038. This one is supplied from the
three first lines of the second column, the sum of which
is 999999? <an<^ being increased by 1 in consequence
of the carriage from the third column, amounts to
1,000000, and therefore carries 1 to the first column,
and does not affect the sum of the remaining lines,
which are the same as those of the first column. The
third column contains two sets of these lines, which
amount to 999999j beside the lines which compose the
circle. Each of these sets would be completed into
1,000000 by the carriage from the 4th column, if ex¬
tended, and each would carry 1 to the second column.
One of these would complete the suni of the three first
lines, and the other would complete the sum of the
circle. In like manner, if the circles be extended ever
so far, the increasing carriages will exactly answer' for
the increasing deficiencies, and the sum will be always
a continuation of the circle; but the product could not
circulate, unless the sum of the lines marked off in the
second column had consisted entirely of 9’s ; or had been
some multiple of a number of 9’s ; and the circles must
be extended till this take place* in order to find the
complete product.
5th.] .384 X-
23 2
90)8.832
.09813.
Therefore, in order to multiply by 3, we take one-
third part of the multiplier ; and, to multiply by we
take two-thirds of the same. Thus,
6tb.] .784=:.3X-t 7th.] .8761x^=1
3)-784  
.2613 3)I-7522
.5840^
As the denominator of the vulgar fractions always
consists of 8’s, or of 9’s with cyphers annexed, we may
use the contraction explained p. 631. col 1. par. ult.
&c.; and this will lead us exactly to the same opera¬
tion which was explained p. 653. col. 2. par. ult. &c.
on the principles of decimal arithmetic.
4th.] .3824 X^=£
7
9)2.6768
.9742
8tli.] *735 X •3,26=114
323 3
2205 323
1470
2205
99|o(2374°5
2374,05
23,74
,23
.239803,
9th.] .270x365,=414
365
1390
1668
834
999)IOI47°,
101,
IOI,57I»
When the multiplier is a mixed repeater or circu¬
late, we may proceed as in Ex. 5th and 8th ; or we may
divide the multiplier into two parts, of which the first is
finite, and the second a pure repeater or circulate, with
cyphers prefixed, and multiply separately by these, and
add the products.
Thus, .384 X *23 or by .2 =.0768 or thus, .384
and by .05=.02I33 .23
.09813 9)1920
2133
768
09813
In the following examples, the multiplicand i? a re¬
peater ; and therefore the multiplication by the nume¬
rator of the vulgar fraction is performed as directed
p. 653. col. 2. par. 2.
10th.]
V
e
Chap. X.
arithmetic.
Intcnui-
nate
Decimals.
iotb.] .683: x
5
9)3-4^(-37?962*
27
7i
63
*86
81
54
26
18
*86
nth.] .63x.2,39=14’
.237 2
443 237
1890
1266^
99)r5°io(.i5,i6,
99
511
495
*160
99
610
594
*16
In the following examples the multiplicand is a cir¬
culate, and therefore the multiplication by the nume¬
rator is performed as directed p. 653. col. 2. par 4.
In Ex. 13th, we have omitted the products of the
divisor, and only marked down the remainders. These
are found, by adding the leit-hand figure of the divi¬
dual to the remaining figures of the same. Thus, 363
is the first dividual; and 3, the left-hand figure, added
to 63, the remaining figures, gives 66 for the first re¬
mainder $ and the second dividual, 666, is completed
by annexing the circulating figure 6. The reason of
which may be explained as follows. The highest place
of each dividual shows, in this example, how many
hundreds it contains j and as it must contain an equal
number of ninety-nines, and also an equal number of
units, it follows, that these units, added to the low’er
places, must show how far the dividual exceeds that
number of ninety-nines. The figure of the quotient is
generally the same as the first place of the dividual,
sometimes one more. This happens in the last step of
the foregoing example, and is discovered when the re¬
mainder found, as here directed, would amount to 99,
or upwards 5 and the excess above 99 only, must in
that case be taken to complete the next dividual.
i4th.].oi,x.oi,=-g-V
1
655
Intcnni-
nate
Decimals.
12th.] .3,8 r, x 53'—41-
48 5
3°54 48
15272
9!o) 183,27,(.203,63,
18
*032
27
57
54
*32
13th.] .12, x 03,:
3
•tv
99)36>36(-°3673°94582i8549i2764,
666
723
3°6
*936
453
576
813
216
183
846
543
486
9°3
126
273
756
633
396
*036
29).oi(oooio20304C>5o6o7oSo9ioi 112131415161718192a
(2122232425262728293031323334353(137383940
(4I4243444S46474s495°5i5*53i4555<>575s5960
(61626364656667686970717273747576777879S0
(81828384856687888990919293949596979899
The number of places in the circle of the product
is sometimes very great, though there be few places in
the factors : but it never exceeds the product of the
denominator of the multiplier, multiplied by the num¬
ber of places in the circle of the multiplicand. There¬
fore, if the multiplier be £ or 6, the product may cir¬
culate three times as many places as the multiplicand $
if the multiplier be any other repeater, nine times as
many; if the multiplier be a circulate of two places,
ninety-nine times as many ; thus, in the last example,
.01, a circulate of twm places, multiplied by .10, a cir¬
culate of two places, produces a circulate of twice 99,
or 198 places. And the reason of this limit may be in¬
ferred from the nature of the operation ; for the greatest
possible number of remainders, including o, is equal to
the divisor 99; and each remainder may afford two
dividuals, if both the circulating figures, 3 and 6, oc¬
cur to he annexed to it. If the multiplier circulate
three places, the circle of the product, for a like rea¬
son, may extend nine hundred and ninety-nine times
as far as that of the multiplicand. But the number of
places is often much less.
The multiplication of interminate decimals may be
proven, by altering the order of the factors, (p. 628.
col. 2. par. 2.) or by reducing them both to vulgar .
fractions in their lowest terms, multiplying these as di¬
rected p. 643. col. 2. par. 3. and reducing the product
to a decimal.
Sect. IV. Division o/*Interminate Decimals.
Case I. “ When the dividend only is interminate,
“ proceed as in common arithmetic ; but, when the fi-
“ gures of the dividend are exhausted, annex the re-
“ peating figure, or the circulating figures in thsir or-
“ der, instead of cyphers, to the remainder.”
Ev,
656
Interim.
nate
Decimals.
Ex. ist.] Divide .5376 by 7
•7)*J370(-76,095238,
49
42
42
*066
63
A R I T H
2d.] Divide .84? by c.
.5)8430168^
5
34
3°
43
40
M E T I C. Chap.
Tbe foregoing method is the only one 'which pro-Extract
perly depends on the principles of decimal arithmetic 5 of Roc
but it is generally shorter to proceed by the following
rule.
“ Ixeduce the divisor to a vulgar fraction, multiply
“ the dividend by the denominator, and divide the pio-
“ duct by the numerator,”
Ex. ist.] Divide .37845 by £=4.
9
36
35
16
*4
26
21
*33
30
33
5)3,4o6o5(.68i2i.
2d.] Divide .3784* by
3
2d.] Divide .6532$ by 8.
8).6532$(.o8x66/.
2)I'353^Gi67683.
Note I. Division by 3 triples the dividend, and di¬
vision by 0 increases the dividend one half.
56
*066
In these accounts the quotient is never finite. It
may repeat if the dividend repeats ; or, if the dividend
circulate, it may circulate an equal number of places,
often more, and never fewer. The greatest possible
extent of the circle is found by multiplying the divisor
into the number of places in the circle of the dividend.
Thus, a circulate of 3 places, divided by 3, quotes a
circulate of 3 times 3 or 9 places.
Case II. “ When the divisor is interminate, the
t< multiplications and subtractions must be performed
“ according to the directions given for repeating and
“ circulating decimals.”
Ex. ist.] Divide .37845 by g.
£)-3784j(-68i2i
33333?
45*10
44444'
Note 2. When the divisor circulates, the denomina¬
tor of the vulgar fraction consists of 9’s, and the mul¬
tiplication is sooner performed by the contraction ex¬
plained p. 628. col. 1. par. 1. It may be wrought in
the same way, when the divisor repeats, and the deno¬
minator, of consequence, is 9.
Note 3. If a repeating dividend be divided by a re¬
peating or circulating divisor; or, if a circulating di¬
vidend be divided by a similar circulating dividend j
or, if the number of places in the circle of the divisor
be a multiple of the number in the dividend ; then the
product of the dividend multiplied by the denominator
of the divisor will be terminate, since like figures are
subtracted from like in the contracted multiplication,
and consequently no remainder left. The form of the
quotient depends on the divisors as explained at large,
p. 649. col. 1. par. I.—p. 651. col. 2. par. 3.
Note 4. In other cases, the original and multiplied
dividend are similar’, and the form of the quotient is
the same as in the case of a finite divisor. See p. 655.
col. 2. par. ult. &c.
672
5 SB
11$
111
Note 5. If the terms be similar, or extended till
they become so, the quotient is the same as if they
were finite, and the operation may be conducted ac¬
cordingly ; for the quotient of vulgar fractions that
have the same denominator is equal to the quotient of
their numerators.
B
B
o
2d.] Divide .245892 by 2.18.
. .2,18.).245892(1.127005
218181,8l,
27710.18,
21818.18,
5892,00,
4363>63,
1528,63,
1527>28,
1090,90
1090,90
0
Chap. XI. OF THE EXTRACTION OF ROOTS.
The origin of powers by involution has already been
explained under the article Algebra, N° 66. There
now remains therefore only to give the most expeditious
methods of extracting the square and cube roots j 4he
reasons of which will readily appear from what is said
under that article. As for all powers above the cube,
unless such as are multiples of either the square and
cube, the extraction of their roots admits of no devia¬
tion from the algebraic canon which must be always
constructed on purpose for them.
If the root of any power not exceeding the seventh
power be a single digit, it may be obtained by inspec¬
tion, from the following table of powers.
ist, To
Chap. XL
arithmetic.
Extraction
of Roots.
34
PH ^
16
25
36
49
64
81
CU (j;
I
8
27
64
125
216
343
5i2
729
O (D
| 1
Eh =
-a .E
I
16
81
256
625
1296
2401
4096
6561
"O
0) • -*
S o
1
32
243
1024
3I25
7776
16807
32768
59049
In
<U
S
-a u
>0
64
729
4096
i5625
46656
117649
262144
53I44I
Ph
-a
1
128
2187
16384
78125
279936
823543
2097152
4782969
Square number 133225(365 root
9
1 div, 66)432 resolvend.
396 product.
Vox-. II. Part II.
365
365
1825
2190
1095
2 div. 725) 3625 resolvend.
3625 product.
. ~ . i33225 proof.
2d.] Required the square root of 72, to eight decimal
places.
72.00000000
64
164)800
656
657
Extraction
of Roots.
1688)14400
I35°4
16965)89600
84825
Sect. I. Extraction of the Square Root.
Rule I. “ Divide the given number into periods of
“ two figures, beginning at the right hand in integers,
“ and Pointing toward the left. But in decimals, begin
at the place ot hundreds, and point toward the right.
“ Every period will give one figure in the root.”
II. “ Find by the table of powers, or by trial, the
“ nearest lesser root of the left-hand period ; place the
“ figure so found in the quot; subtract its square from
the said period, and to the remainder bring down the
“ next period for a dividual or resolvend.”
III. “ Double the quot for the first part of the di-
“ visor j inquire how often this first part is contained
in the whole resolvend, excluding the units place j
“ and Place the figure denoting the answer both in the
“ quot and on the right of the first part; and you have
“ the divisor complete.”
IV. “ Multiply the divisor thus completed by the
figure put in the quot, subtract the product from the
resolvend, and to the remainder bring down the fol-
“ lowing period for a new resolvend, and then proceed
M as before.”
Note 1st. If the first part of the divisor, with unity
supposed to be annexed to it, happen to be greater than
the resolyend, in this case place o in the quot, and also
on the right of the partial divisor; to the resolvend
bring down another period $ and proceed to divide as
before.
Note 2. If the product of the quotient figure into the
divisor happen to be greater than the resolvend, you
must go back and give a lesser figure to the quot.
. -Note 3* If* after every period of the given number
ts brought down, there happen at last to be a remainder,
you may continue the operation, by annexing periods or
pairs of cyphers, till there be no remainder, or till the
decimal part of the quot repeat or circulate, or till you
think proper to limit it.
Ex. 1st. Required the square root of 133225.
169702)477500
339404
169704)138096
•••• I357^3
After getting half of the
decimal places, work by con¬
tracted division for the other
half; and obtain them with
the same accuracy as if the
work had been at large.
(9)
3d ] Required the square root of .2916.
.29i6(.54 root.
25
If the square root of a vulgar fraction be required}
find the root of the given numerator for a new nume¬
rator, and find the root of the given denominator for a
new denominator. Thus the square root of 4 is 4* and
the root of is | j and thus the root of V (=6£) is
s'— 2‘i.
But if the root of either the numerator or denomina¬
tor cannot be extracted without a remainder, reduce
the vulgar fraction to a decimal, and then extract the
root, as in Ex. 3d. above.
Sect. II. Extraction of the Cube Root.
Rule I. “ Divide the given number into periods of
three figures, beginning at the right hand in integers,
and pointing toward the left. But in decimals, begin
at the place of thousands, and point toward the right.
The number of periods shows the number of figures
in the root.”
II. “ Find by the table of powers, or by trial, the
nearest lesser root of the left-hand period; place the
figure so found in the quot; subtract its cube from
the said period ; and to the remainder bring down
the next period for a dividual or resolvend.”
The divisor consists of three parts, which may be
found as follows;
4 O III,
658
Extraction
pf Hoots.
234
234
936
702
468
ARITHMETIC.
IIL “ The first part of the divisor is found thus:
“ Multiply the square of the quot by 3, and to the pro-
“ duct annex two cyphers j then inquire how often this
“ first part of the divisor is contained in the resolvend,
“ and place the figure denoting the answer in the quot.”
IV. “ Multiply the former quot by 3, and the pro-
“ duct by the figure now put in the quot j to this last
“product annex a cypher j and you have the second
“ part of the divisor. Again, Square the figure now
“ put in the quot for the third part of the divisor j
“ place these three parts under one another, as in addi-
“ tion 5 and their sum will be the divisor complete.”
V. “ Multiply the divisor, thus completed, by the
“ figure last put in the quot, subtract the product from
“ the resolvend, and to the remainder bring down the
“ following period for a new resolvend, and then pro-
“ ceed as before.”
Note 1. If the first part of the divisor happen to be
equal to or greater than the resolvend j in this case,
place o in the quot, annex two cyphers to the said first
part of the divisor, to the resolvend bring down another
period, and proceed to divide as before.
Note 2. If the product of the quotient figure into
the d ivisor happen to be greater than the resolvend, you
must go back, and give a lesser figure to the quot.
Note 3. If, after every period of the given number is
brought down, there happen at last to be a remainder,
you may continue the operation by annexing periods
of three cyphers till there be no remainder, or till you
have as many decimal places in the root as you judge
necessary.
Ex. 1st. Required the cube root of 12812904.
Proof.
Square 54756
234
• 219024
164268
109512
Square 54756 Cube 12812904
2d.] Required the cube root of 28^.
270000*1
5400 [
36J
28.750000(3.06 root.
27
) 1750000 resolv.
Div. 275436 X 6 = 1652616 prod.
3.06
3.06
1836
918
Sq. 9.3636
97384 rem.
Proof.
Sq. 9.3636
3.06
Chap. 5i
Cube number 12812904(234 root.
8 
1st part 1200*1 )48i2 resolvend.
2d part 180 >
3d part 9 J
1 divisor 1389 X 3—4167 product.
1st part 158700'! 3645904 resolvend.
2d part 2760 >
3d part l6j
2 divisor 161476 X 4=645904 product.
561816
280908
28.652616
97384 rem.
28.750000 cube.
If the cube root of a vulgar fraction be required,
find the cube root of the given numerator for a new
numerator, and the cube root of the given denomina¬
tor for a new denominator. But if the root of either
cannot be extracted without a remainder, reduce the
vulgar fraction to a decimal, and then extract the root.
Under the article Arithmetic in the Supplement,
will be found a full exposition of the fundamental prin¬
ciples of the science.
A R I
Arius. ARIUS, a divine of the fourth century, the head
—v ' and founder of the Arians, a sect which denied the
eternal divinity and substantiality of the Word. He
was born in Libya, near Egypt. Eusebius, bishop of
Nicomedia, a great favourite of Constantia, sister of the
emperor Constantine, and wile of Licinius, became a
zealous promoter of Arianism. He took Ariu^ under
his protection, and introduced him to Constantia ; so
that the sect increased, and several bishops embraced it
openly. There arose, however, such disputes in the
cities, that the emperor, in order tc^ remedy these dis¬
orders, was obliged to assemble the council of Nice,
where, in the year 325, the doctrine of Arius was
condemned. Arius was banished by the emperor, all
his books were ordered to be burnt, and capital pu¬
nishment was denounced against whoever dared to keep
them. After five years banishment, he was recalled to
3
A R I
Constantinople, where he presented the emperor with Arius
a confession of his faith, drawn up so artfully, that it1 y—
fully satisfied him. Notwithstanding which, Athana¬
sius, now advanced to the see of Alexandria, refused to
admit him and his followers to communion. This so
enraged them, that by their interest at court, they
procured that prelate to be deposed and banished. But
the church of Alexandria still refusing to admit Arius
into their communion, the emperor sent for him to
Constantinople j where, upon delivering in a fresh con¬
fession of his faith in terms less offensive, the emperor
commanded Alexander, the bishop of that church, to
receive him the next day into his communion : but that
very evening Arius died. rlhe manner of his death
was very extraordinary : as his friends were conducting
him in triumph to the great church of Constantinople,
Arius, pressed by a natural necessity, stepped aside to ease
himself j
ark
Arias,
Ark.
Plate
LVII.
Sff. r.
himself j hut expired on the spot, his bowels gushing
out.
But the heresy did not die with the heresiarch : his
party continued still in great credit at court. Athanasius,
indeed, was soon recalled from banishment, and as soon
removed again j the Arians being countenanced by the
government, and making and deposing bishops as it
best served their purposes. In short, this sect conti¬
nued with great lustre above 300 years: it was the
reigning religion of Spain for above two centuries : it
was on the throne both in the east and west; it prevail¬
ed in Italy, France, Pannonia, and Africa 5 and was
not extirpated till about the end of the 8th century.
This heresy was again set on foot in the west by
Servetus, who, in 1531, wrote a little treatise against
the mystery of the Trinity. After his death Arianism
got footing in Geneva ; from whence it removed into
Poland j but at length degenerated, in a great mea¬
sure, into Socinianism. Erasmus seems to have aimed
at reviving Arianism, in his Commentaries on the New
Testament; and the learned Grotius seems to lean a
little that way.
With regard to the state of Arianism in England, it
may be sufficient to observe, that from the numerous
publications of that cast which are daily making their
appearance, it seems to be rather a growing, than ex¬
ploded, doctrine there.
ARK, or Noah's Ark, a floating vessel built by
Noah, for the preservation of his family, and the seve¬
ral species of animals, during the deluge.
The ark has afforded several points of curious inquiry
among the critics and naturalists, relating to its form,
capacity, materials, &c.
The wood whereof the ark was built is called in
the Hebrew Gopher ivood, and in the Septuagint square
timbers. Some translate the original cedar, others pine,
others box, &c. Pelletier prefers cedar on account of
its incorruptibility, and the great plenty of it in Asia j
whence Herodotus and Theophrastus relate, that the
kings of Egypt and Syria built whole fleets thereof,
instead of deal.
The learned Mr Fuller, in his Miscellanies, has ob¬
served, that the wood whereof the ark was built was
nothing but that which the Greeks call xysragico-a;, or
the cypress ti'ee ; for, taking away the termination, ku-
par and gopher differ very little in sound. This ob¬
servation the great Bochart has confirmed, and shown
very plainly that no country abounds so much with
this wood as that part of Assyria which lies about Ba¬
bylon.
In what place Noah built and finished his ark is no
less made a matter of disputation. But the most pro¬
bable opinion is, that it was built in Chaldea, in the
territories of Babylon, where there was so great a quan¬
tity of cypress in the groves and gardens in Alexander’s
time, that that prince built a whole fleet out of it for
want of timber. And this conjecture is confirmed by
the Chaldean tradition, which makes Xisuthrus (ano¬
ther name for Noah) set sail from that country.
The dimensions of the ark, as given by Moses, are
300 cubits in length, 50 in breadth, and 30 in height 5
which some have thought too scanty, considering the
Dumber of things it was to contain ; and hence an ar¬
gument has been drawn against the authority of the
relation. To solve this difficulty, many of the ancient
r 659 ]
ARK
fathers and the modern critics have been put to very
miserable shifts: But Buteo and Kircher have proved
geometrically, that taking the common cubit of a foot
and a half, the ark was abundantly sufficient for all the
animals supposed to be lodged in it. Snellius com¬
putes the ark to have been above half an acre in area.
Father Lamy shows, that it was no feet longer than
the church of St Mary at Paris, and 64 feet narrower:
and if so, it must have been longer than St Paul’s
church in London, from west to east, and broader
than that church is high in the inside, and 54 feet of
our measure in height j and Hr Arbuthnot computes it
to have been 81,062 tons.
The things contained in it were, besides eight per¬
sons of Noah’s family, one pair of every species of un¬
clean animals, and seven pair of every species of clean
animals, with provisions for them all during the whole
year. The former appears, at first view, almost infi¬
nite ; but if we come to a calculation, the number of
species of animals will be found much less than is ge¬
nerally imagined $ out of which, in this case, are ex¬
cepted such animals as can live in the water 5 and Bi¬
shop Wilkins shows that only 72 of the quadruped kind
needed a place in the ark.
By the description Moses gives of the ark, it ap¬
pears to have been divided into three stories, each ten
cubits or 15 feet high ; and it is agreed on, as most
probable, that the lowest story was for the beasts, the
middle for the food, and the upper for the birds, with
Noah and his family 5 each story being subdivided in¬
to different apartments, stalls, &c. though Josephus,
Philo, and other commentators, add a kind of fourth
story under all the rest j being, as it were, the hold of
the vessel, to contain the ballast and receive the filth
and faeces ot so many animals : but F. Calmet thinks,
that what is here reckoned a story, was no more than
what is called the keel of ships, and served only for a
conservatory of fresh water. Drexelius makes 300
apartments j F. Fournier, 333 j the anonymous author
of the questions on Genesis, 400 ; Buteo, Tempora-
rius, Arias Mbntanus, Hostus, Wilkins, Lamy, and
others, suppose as many partitions as there were differ¬
ent sorts of animals. Pelletier makes only 72, viz.
36 for the birds, and as many for the beasts. His rea¬
son is, that if we suppose a greater number, as 333 or
400, each of the eight persons in the ark must have
had 37, 41, or 60 stalls to attend and cleanse daily,
which be thinks impossible to have been done. But
it is observed, that there is not much in this: to di¬
minish the number of stalls without the diminution of
animals is in vain \ it perhaps being more difficult to
take care of 300 animals in 72 stalls than in 300. As
to the number of animals contained in the ark, Buteo
computes that it could not be equal to 500 horses j he
even reduces the whole to the dimensions of 56 pair of
oxen. F. Lamy enlarges it to 64 pair of oxen, or
128 oxen ; so that, supposing one ox equal to two hor¬
ses, if the ark had room for 256 horses, there must
have been room for all the animals. But the same au¬
thor demonstrates, that one floor of it would suffice for
500 horses, allowing nine feet square to a horse.
As to the food in the second story, it is observed by
Buteo from Columella, that 30 or 40 pounds of hay
ordinarily suffices for an ox a dav ; and that a solid
cubit of hay, as usually pressed down in our hay ricks,
4 G 2 weighs
Ark.
Plate
JLV1I.
flSr. 2.
P*
cum
ARK [660
weighs about 40 pounds; so that a square cubit of hay
—'’is more than enough for one ox in one day. Now it
appears, that the second story contained 150,000 solid
cubits ; which divided between 206 oxen, will afford
each more hay, by two-thirds, than he can eat in a
year. Bishop Wilkins computes all the carnivorous
animals equivalent, as to the bulk of their bodies, and
their foods, to 17 wolves, and all the rest to 280 beeves.
For the former he allows 1825 sl'eeP > and for the
latter, 109,500 cubits of hay: all which will be easily
contained in the two first stories, and a deal of room
to spare. As to the third story, nobody doubts of its
being sufficient for the fowls, with Noah, his sons,
and daughters. Upon >he whole, the learned bishop
remarks, that of the two, it appears much more diffi¬
cult to assign a number and bulk of necessary things to
answer the capacity of the ark, than to find sufficient
room for the several species of animals already known
to have been there. This he attributes to the imper¬
fection of our list of animals, especially those of the un¬
known parts of the earth ; adding, that the most ex¬
pert mathematician at this day could not assign the pro¬
portion of a vessel better accommodated to the purpose
than is here done: and hence he finally concludes, that
the capacity of the ark, which had been made an objec¬
tion against Scripture, ought to be esteemed a confir¬
mation of its divine authority ; since, in those ruder
ages, men, being less versed in arts and philosophy,
were more obnoxious to vulgar prejudices than now, so
that, had it been a human invention, it would have
been contrived, according to those wild apprehensions,
which arise from a confused and general view of things,
as much too big as it had been represented too little.
But it must be observed, that, besides the places re¬
quisite for the beasts and birds, and their provisions,
there was room required for Noah to lock up house¬
hold utensils, the instruments of husbandry, grains, and
seeds to sow the earth with after the deluge j for which
purpose it is thought that he might spare room in the
third story for 36 cabins, besides a kitchen, a hall,
four chambers, and a space about 48 cubits in length to
walk in.
Ark of the Covenant, a small chest or coffer, three
feet nine inches in length, two feet three inches in
breadth, and two feet three inches in height, in which
were contained the golden pot that held manna, and
Aaron’s rod, and the tables of the covenant. This
coffer was made of shittim wood, and covered with
a lid, which was made of solid gold. The ark was
reposited in the holiest place of the tabernacle. It
was taken by the Philistines, and detained 20, some
say 4^ years, at Kirjath-jearifn j but the people be¬
ing afflicted with emerods on account of it, returned
it with divers presents. It was afterwards placed in
the temple.
he lid or covering of the ark was called the propi¬
tiatory or mercy-seat; over which were two figures
placed called Cherubims, with expanded wings of a pe¬
culiar form. Here the Schechinah rested both in the
tabernacle and temple in a visible cloud : hence were
issued the Divine oracles by an audible voice ; and the
high priest appeared before this mercy-seat once every
year on the great day of expiation ; and the Jews,
wherever they worshipped, turned their faces towards
the place where the ark stood.
]
ark
Ark
In the second-temple there was also an ark, made
of the same shape and dimensions with the first, and „
put in the same place, but without any of its contents Arkwrigh
and peculiar honours. It was used as a representative y 1
of the former on the day of expiation, and a repository
of the original copy of the holy Scriptures, collected
by Ezra and the men of the great synagogue, after the
captivity. And in imitation of this, the Jews to this
day have a kind of ark in their synagogues, wherein
their sacred books are reposited. This they call (iron.
Leo of Modena gives a description thereof in his Ac¬
count of the Customs and Ceremonies of those of his
Nation. “ Hie Jews (says he), in the eastern side of
their synagogues, have an ark, or armory, called aron^
in memory of the ark of the covenant. In this are
preserved the five books of Moses, written on vellum,
with ink made on purpose,” &c. Some have supposed
that the figure of this ark is still remaining on the tri¬
umphal arch of Titus at Rome j though Villalpandus
and others, with greater reason, are of opinion, that
it is the table of shew bread. Prideaux's Con. vol. i.
209. Tertullian calls this ark Armarium Judai-
whence the phrase, to be in the armory of the sy-
nagogue, q. d. in the number of canonical writings.
A chest or coffer, very nearly resembling the Jewish
ark, and called the house of the God, was found in Hua-
heine, one of the islands in the southern sea. Mr Banks'
could obtain no other information concerning it than
what the name imports. Hawkesworth's Account, &c.
vol. ii. p. 252.
ARK LOW, a sea-port town of Ireland, in the
county of Wicklow, and province of Leinster. W.
Long. 6. 15. N. Lat. 52. 55.
ARKWRIGHT, Sir Richard, celebrated for his
invention of machinery in spinning and carding cotton,,
was originally a country barber in poor circumstances,
but acquired by his inventions a very great fortune.
About the year 1767, when he had quitted the profes¬
sion of a barber, and went up and down the country
buying hair, he came to Warrington. At that time,
it is said, he had some mechanical project in view, of
the nature of a perpetual motion. One John Kay, a
clockmaker of that place, becoming acquainted with
him, endeavoured to dissuade him from this scheme,
but said that much money might be made by spinning
cotton, which he promised to describe to him. Ark¬
wright urged as an objection, that that scheme had
been the ruin of many ; but he came to Kay’s bedside
next morning, and asked him if he could make a small
engine at a moderate expence, as this Kay had been
employed to make a cotton-spinning engine for a Mr
Hayes, who likewise employed himself in making cy¬
lindrical carding engines, and who was brought as a
witness on the trial in which Arkwright’s patent was
set aside in 1785* Mrllayesproved, that hehad invent¬
ed an engine of a similar construction to Arkwright’s,
but had not brought it to perfection. Arkwright and
Kay made application to Peter Atherton, Esq. now
of L iverpool, to make such an engine ; but he refused
to undertake it, from the external poverty of the former,
although on the evening of the same day he under¬
took to give Kay the use of a smith, and watch-tool
maker, to make the heavier parts of the engine ; and
Kay agreed to instruct the workmen, and to make
the clockmakers share of it. In this manner Ark¬
wright’s
NOAHS ARK
PLATE I MI
fioaling c// the wafers of tfie iflut/e
fig 1-
E-Afitc/i c///ca//i
A R K [ 661 1 A R M
Atiwriglit. wright’s first engine was made, for which he afterwards
u—v—' took out a patent. Mr Arkwright went into partner¬
ship soon after with a Mr Smally of Preston in Lanca¬
shire ; but being at a loss for money, they went to Not¬
tingham, and there, by the assistance of some rich indi¬
viduals, erected a considerable cotton mill, which was
turned by horses.
The report generally circulated through the manu¬
facturing towns is, that he borrowed these inventions,
and that he enriched himself at other men’s expence
and ingenuity. From all accounts, however, it ap¬
pears, that the cotton-spinning was no new attempt at
the time Mr Arkwright engaged in it, but an object
which had been the subject of much attention ; but as
it had not succeeded, it would accordingly happen,
that more difficulties were to be overcome, and sub¬
jects of subordinate inventions to be digested, and
brought to maturity and effect. Although the carding
and spinning of cotton before Mr Arkwright engaged
in it was hardly any thing, yet it became a great
national manufacture through his means. He states
in his case, as drawn by himself, that one Paul and
others of London, about 40 or 50 years previous tg
his time, having invented an engine for spinning cot¬
ton, obtained a patent for it, after which they repair¬
ed to Nottingham 5 and there, after having been as¬
sisted by several persons, and much money had been
expended on the undertaking, many families had been
ruined by the failure of their scheme ;—that various
engines had been constructed by different persons, for
spinning cotton, flax, wool, &c. into several threads
at once, about 20 or 30 years back, but that no real
advantage had been derived from them ; and that an
engine was constructed in 1767, by one Llargrave of
Blackwell in Lancashire, which would at once spin
20 or 30 threads of cotton into yarn for the fustian
manufacture, but that after his engine had been de¬
stroyed by popular tumults in Lancashire, he removed
to Nottingham, where for a while he practised under
a patent ; but an association being formed against Him,
his patent was rendered null, and at length lie died in
obscurity and distress ; that he, Arkwright, had in¬
vented certain engines for spinning and carding, which
had taken about five years in bringing them to perfec¬
tion j and after 12,000!. had been expended upon
them, they had neither produced advantage or profit
either to him or his partners. As it must be allowed,
that he did not think to make his scheme to bear all
at once, ha must certainly be considered as the person
who after many others had been unsuccessful, engaged
in a national undertaking, did display so much skill,
perseverance, and activity, as to make it not only pro¬
ductive of value to himself, but likewise to the nation at
large.
It appears, from these various accounts, that the ob¬
ject in which Sir Richard Arkwright was engaged, is
of the greatest national value ; that from his various
exertions, he is deserving both of the respect and admi¬
ration of the world 5 and, that although his family is
enriched, the benefits which the nation have received
are inestimably greater.
On the 22d of December, 1786, upon presenting
an address from the high sheriff and hundred of Wi rks-
worth, he was knighted by his present majesty, and
died August 3. 1793, at his works at Crumford, in
Derbyshire. (G<?«. JBiog.).
ARLES, a city of France, in the department of the
Mouths ot the Rhone, formerly Provence, seated on
the east side of the Rhone, on a hill, whose declivity is
towards the north. It is an archbishop’s see 5 and is
celebrated for its antiquities both within and without
the city. Those of which any remains are now to be
seen are the amphitheatre, the obelisk, the elysian fields,
the sepulchres, columns with their capitals, busts, pe¬
destals, aqueducts, with some remains of the capitol,
and the temples of their gods. The other ancient mo¬
numents are entirely destroyed. Under the amphi¬
theatre, in 1651, they found the statue of Venus, which
was worshipped by this city ; and has been since car¬
ried to the castle of Versailles. It is a master-piece
which will always be admired by connoisseurs.
The amphitheatre is one of the most remarkable
pieces ot antiquity. It was built by the Romans, but
the time is unknown, though some say by Julius Caesar.
It is ot an oval form, and about 400 yards in circumfe¬
rence, and the front is 34 yards in height. The middle,
called the arena, is 142 yards wide and 104 broad. The
porticoes or piazzas are three stories, built with stones
of a prodigious size. Each of them consists of 60
arches, which still remain j and the walls are of sur¬
prising thickness, but gone to decay.
The obelisk is the only one of this kind to be seen in
France. It seems to be one of the forty brought from
Egypt to Rome, because it is of the same oriental gra¬
nite with them. They are generally full of hieroglyphic
characters ; but this is quite smooth. In 1675, it was
found in a private garden near the walls of the city, not
far from the Rhone. It consists of one piece; and is 52
feet high, and 7 in diameter at the base. It is now sup¬
ported with four lions made of bronze; and on the top
a blue ball is placed; with the arms of France, and over
that a sun.
The Pagans burying place called the Etysian Fields,.
is without the city, upon an agreeable hill, divided into
two parts. The first, called Moulaires, has very few
tombs, they having been broken to build the walls ot
gardens, which are made in that place. The second,
called Eliscamp, contains a great number. Those of the
Pagans have the letters D. M. which signify Dus Ma-
nibus. Those of the Christians have a cross. Pieces
of coin of gold, silver, and bronze, are found here ; as
also urns, lamps, and cups, without number.
Here is a royal academy of sciences, consisting of
thirty members, who must be natives, gentlemen, and
inhabitants of the city. It enjoys the same privileges
as that at Paris. Arles is surrounded with marshy land,
which renders the air full of vapoursi, and makes it not
very wholesome. E. Xmng. 4. 48. N. Lat. 43. o.
ARLEUX, an ancient town in Fi’ance, in the de¬
partment of the North, with a castle. It was taken by
the French in 1645, and retaken by the allies in 1711 :
but the French got possession tigain the same month.
E. Ijong. 3. 6. N. Lat. 50. 20.
ARLON, an ancient town of the Netherlands, for¬
merly a strong place, but now dismantled. E. Long.
5. 28. N. Lat. 49. 4.
ARM, a part of the human body, terminating at one
end in the shoulder, and at the other in the hand.
Arm,
ABM [ 662 ] ARM
Aihj Arm, among sportsmen, is applied to a horse, when
^ I! by pressing down his head, he endeavours to defend
 1 a' iiimself against the bit, to prevent his being checked by
v it. The remedy is, to have a wooden ball covered with
velvet, or other matter, put on his chaul, which will so
press him between the jaw bones as to prevent his bring¬
ing his head so near his breast.
Arm, -in Geography, is used for the branch of a sea
or river. Italy and Sicily are only parted by an arm of
the sea. St George’s arm in the Mediterranean is the
Thracian Bosphorus.
Arm is also used figuratively for power. The secular
arm is the lay or temporal authority of a secular judge ;
to which recourse is had for the execution of the sen¬
tences passed by ecclesiastical judges.
I lie church sheds no blood: even the judges of the
inquisition, after they have found the person guilty, sur¬
render him to the secular arm. The council of An¬
tioch, held in 341? decrees, that recourse be had to
the secular arm to repress those who refuse obedience
to the church : for secular arm, they here use exterior
power.
Arm, in respect of the magnet. A loadstone is said
to be armed, when it is capped, cased, or set in iron
or steel, in order to make it take up the greater
weight, and also to distinguish readily its poles. See
Magnetism.
ARMACALES, a river of Babylon (Abydenus) $
called/'ossa Regia, the Royal 'French ovCut (Polybius) ;
the Royal River (Ptolemy) 5 Almarchur (Pliny) $
v Naarmalcha, (Ammian) *, a factitious channel or cut,
made by ISabuchodonosor, and a horn or branch of the
Euphrates, (Ahydenus). The Euphrates naturally di¬
vides into two channels, one passing through Babylon,
the other through Seleucia, and then falls into the
i jgris; the factitious channel between these two is
the Royal River j which mixes with the Tigris, a
great deal lower down than Seleucia, at Apamea,
(Ptolemy).
ARMADA, a Spanish term, signifying a fleet of
men of war. The armada which attempted to invade
England in the time of Queen Elizabeth, is famous in
history.
Ibis armada, to which the Spaniards, in confidence
of success, gave the name of Invincible, consisted of ijo
ships, most of which were greatly superior in strength
and size to any that had been seen before. It had on
board near 20,coo soldiers, and 8000 sailors, besides
2000 volunteers of the most distinguished families in
Spain. It carried 2650 great guns, was victualled for
hail a year, and contained such a quantity of military
stores, as only the Spanish monarch, enriched by the
treasures of the Indies and America, could supply.
I he troops on board were to be joined by 34,000 more
which the duke of Parma had assembled in the neigh¬
bourhood of Nieuport and Dunkirk. For transport¬
ing these, he had, with incredible labour, provided a
great number of flat-bottomed vessels, and had brought
sailors to navigate them from the towns in the Baltic.
Most of these vessels had been built at Antwerp 5 and
as he durst not venture to bring them from thence by
sea to Nieuport, lest they should have been intercepted
by the Dutch, he was obliged to send them along the
Scheldt to Ghent, from Ghent to Bruges by the canal
which joins these towns, and from Bruges to Nieuport
by a new canal which he dug on the present occasion. Armada
Ibis laborious undertaking, in which several thousand 1
Avorkmen had been employed, was already finished, and
the duke now waited for the arrival of the Spanish fleet;
hoping, that as soon as it should approach, the Dutch
and English ships which cruised upon the coast would
retire into their harbours.
When the news reached England that this mighty
fleet wTas preparing to sail, terror and consternation
universally seized the inhabitants. A fleet of not above
30 ships of wrar, and those very small in comparison,
was all that was to oppose it by sea. All the com¬
mercial towns of England, however, were required to
furnish ships for reinforcing this small navy. The citi¬
zens of London, instead of fifteen vessels, which they
were commanded to equip, voluntarily fitted out double
the number; and the gentry and nobility equipped
43 ships at their own charge. Lord Howard of Ef¬
fingham was admiral : and under him served Drake,
Hawkins, and Forbisher, all of them renowned as sea¬
men of courage and capacity. The principal fleet was
stationed at Plymouth. A smaller squadron, consist¬
ing of 40 vessels, English and Flemish, was command¬
ed by Lord Seymour, second son of Protector Somerset,
and lay off Dunkirk in order to intercept the duke of
Parma.
The land forces of England were more numerous
than those of the enemy, but inferior in discipline and
experience. An army of 20,000 men was disposed in
different bodies along the south coast, with orders to
retix-e backwards and waste the country, if they could
not prevent the Spaniards from landing; 22,000 foot
and 1 coo horse, under the command of the earl of
Leicester, were stationed at Tilbury, in order to de¬
fend the capital; and the principal army, consisting of
34,000 foot and 2000 horse, commanded by Lord
Hunsdon, was reserved for guarding the queen’s per¬
son, and appointed to march whithersoever the enemy
should appear. These armies, though all the Spanish
forces had been able to land, would possibly have been
sufficient to protect the liberties of their country. But
as the fate of England, in that event, must depend on
the issue of a single battle, all men of serious reflection
entertained the most awful apprehensions of the shock
of at least 30,000 veterans, commanded by experienced
officers, under so consummate a general as the duke of
Parma. The queen alone was undaunted. She issued
all her orders with tranquillity, animated her people to
a steady x’esistance, and employed every x'esource which
either her domestic situation or her foreign alliances
could afford her. She even appeared on horseback in
the camp at Tilbury ; and riding through the lines, dis¬
covered a cheerful and animated countenance, exhorted
the soldiers to remember their duty to their country and
their religion, and professed her intention, though a wo¬
man, to lead them herself into the field against the ene¬
my, and rather pei'ish in battle than survive the ruin and
slavery of her people. “ I know (said she, intrepidly)
I have but the weak and feeble arm of a woman; but I
have the heart of a king, and of a king of England too!”
The heroic spirit of Elizabeth communicated itself to
the army, and every man resolved to die rather than
desert his station. a
The Spanish armada was ready in the beginning of
May ; but its sailing was retarded by the death of the
marquis
arm [ 663 ] ARM
Armada, marquis of Santa Croce the admiral, and that also of
— y—the vice-admiral the duke of Paliano. The command
of the expedition was therefore given to the duke of
Medina Sidonia, a man entirely unexperienced in sea
affairs. This promotion, in some measure, served to
frustrate the design, which was also rendered less suc¬
cessful by some other accidents. Upon leaving the
port of Lisbon, the armada next day met with a vio¬
lent tempest, which sunk some of the smallest of their
shipping, and obliged the fleet to put back into the
harbour. After some time spent in refitting, they put
again to sea. Being descried by Fleming, a Scotch
pirate, who was roving in those seas, he immediately
sailed towards the English fleet, and informed the ad¬
miral of their approach. Effingham had just time to
get out of port when he saw the Spanish armada com¬
ing full sail towards him, disposed in the form of a
crescent, and stretching the distance of seven miles
from the extremity of one division to that of the other.
The English admiral considering that the Spaniards
would probably be much superior to him in close fight,
by reason of the size of their ships and the number of
their troops, wisely resolved to content himself with
harassing them in their voyage, and with watching at¬
tentively all the advantages which might be derived
from storms, cross winds, and such like fortuitous ac¬
cidents. It was not long before he discerned a favour¬
able opportunity of attacking the vice-admiral Recal-
do. This he did in person ; and on that occasion dis¬
played so much dexterity in working his ship, and in
loading and firing his guns, as greatly alarmed the
Spaniards for the fate of the vice-admiral. From that
time they kept much closer to one another ; notwith¬
standing which, the English on the same day attacked
one of the largest galeasses. Other Spanish ships came
up in time to her relief; but in their hurry one of the
principal galleons, which had a great part of the trea¬
sure on board, ran foul of another ship, and had one of
her masts broken. In consequence of this misfortune
she fell behind, and was taken by Sir Francis Drake;
who on the same day took another capital ship, which
had been accidentally set on fire.
Several other rencounters happened, and in all of
them the English proved victorious, through the great
advantage which they derived from the lightness of
their ships, and the dexterity of the sailors. The Spa¬
niards in that age did not sufficiently understand nau¬
tical mechanics, to be able to avail themselves of the
unusual magnitude of their ships. The English sail¬
ed round them, approached or retired, with a ve¬
locity that filled them with amazement, and did in¬
finitely greater execution with their cannon *, for while
every shot of theirs proved effectual, their ships sul-
fered very little damage from the enemy, whose guns
were planted too high, and generally spent their force
in air.
The Spaniards, however, still continued to advance
till they came opposite to Calais j there the duke de
Medina having ordered them to cast anchor, he sent
information to the duke of Parma of his arrival, and
entreated him to hasten the embarkation of his forces.
Farnese accordingly began to put his troops on board.
But at the same time he informed Medina, that, agree¬
ably to the king’s instructions, the vessels which he
had prepared were proper only for transporting the
troops, but were utterly unfit for fighting; and for Armada.
this reason, till the armada were brought still nearer,' y—~
and the coast cleared of the Dutch ships which had
blocked up the harbours of Nieuport and Dunkirk, he
could not stir from his present station, without expo¬
sing his army to certain ruin, the consequence of
which would probably be the entire loss of the Nether¬
lands.
In compliance with this request, the armada was
ordered to advance ; and it had arrived within sight of
Dunkirk, between the English fleet on the one hand,
and the Dutch on the other, when a sudden calm put
a stop to all its motions. In this situation the three
fleets remained for one whole day. About the mid¬
dle of the night a breeze sprung up; and Lord
Howard had recourse to an expedient which had been
happily devised on the day before. Having filled
eight ships with pitch, sulphur, and other combusti¬
ble materials, he set fire to them, and sent them be¬
fore the wind against the different divisions of the Spa¬
nish fleet.
When the Spaniards beheld these ships in flames ap¬
proaching towards them, it brought to their remem¬
brance the havock which had been made by the fire
ships employed against the duke of Parma’s bridge at
the siege of Antwerp. The darkness of the night in¬
creased the terror with which their imaginations were
overwhelmed, and the panic flew from one end of the
fleet to the other. Each crew, anxious only for their
own preservation, thought of nothing but how to escape
from the present danger. Some of them took time to
weigh their anchors, but others cut their cables, and
suffered their ships to drive with blind precipitation,
without considering whether they did not thereby ex¬
pose themselves to a greater danger than that which
they were so solicitous to avoid. In this confusion the
ships ran foul of one another : the shock was dreadful,
and several of them received so much damage as to be
rendered unfit for future use.
When daylight returned, Lord Howard had the
satisfaction to perceive that his stratagem had fully
produced the desired effect. The enemy were still in
extreme disorder, and their ships widely separated and
dispersed. His fleet had lately received a great aug¬
mentation by the ships fitted out by the nobility and
gentry, and by those under Lord Seymour, who had
left Justin de Nassau as alone sufficient to guard the
coast of Flanders. Being bravely seconded by Sir
Francis Drake and all the other officers, he made haste
to improve the advantage which was now presented to
him, and attacked the enemy in difl’erent quarters at
the same time with the utmost impetuosity and ardour.
The engagement began at four in the morning and
lasted till six at night. The Spaniards displayed in
every rencounter the most intrepid bravery ; but, from
the causes already mentioned, they did very little exe¬
cution against the English ; while many of their own
ships were greatly damaged, and twelve of the largest
were either run aground, or sunk, or compelled to sur¬
render.
It was now evident that the purpose of the armada
was utterly frustrated. The Spanish admiral, after
many unsuccessful rencounters, prepared therefore to
make his way home ; but as the winds were contrary
to his return through the Channel, he resolved to take
ARM [ 664 ] ARM
Aim ad a the circuit of the island. The English fleet followed
I) him for some time ; and had not their ammunition
Armagh, fallen short, through the negligence of the public offi-
v ces in supplying them, they had obliged the armada to
surrender at discretion. Such a conclusion of that
vain-glorious enterprise would have been truly illustri¬
ous to the English, but the event was scarcely less fatal
to the Spaniards. The armada was attacked by a
violent storm in passing the Orkneys j and the ships,
having already lost their anchors, were obliged to keep
at sea, while the mariners, unaccustomed to hardships,
and unable to manage such unwieldy vessels, allowed
them to drive on the Western isles of Scotland, or on
the coast of Ireland, where they were miserably wreck¬
ed. Not one half of the fleet returned to Spain, and
a still smaller proportion of the soldiers and seamen ;
yet Philip, whose command of temper was equal to his
ambition, received with an air of tranquillity the news
of so humbling a disaster. “ I sent my fleet (said he)
to combat the English, not the elements. God be
praised that the calamity is not greater !” This ca¬
lamity, however, was sensibly felt all over Spain, and
there was scarcely a single family of rank in the king¬
dom that did not go into mourning for the death of
some near relation •, insomuch that Philip, dreading the
effect which this universal face of sorrow might pro¬
duce upon the minds of the people, imitated the con¬
duct of the Roman senate after the battle of Cannse,
and published an edict to abridge the time of public
mourning.
ARMADILLA, in Spanish America, denotes a
squadron of men of war, to the number of six or
eight, from twenty-four to fifty pieces of cannon, which
the king maintains, to prevent foreigners from trading
with the Spaniards and the Indians, both in time of
war and peace.
The vessels of this armadilla are those that have been
so much talked of, under the name of guarda costas.
They have even power to take all Spanish merchant
ships they meet with on the coast that have not licenses
from the king.
The South sea has its armadilla as well as the North
sea. The ordinary abode of the former is at Calao,
the port of Lima ; that of the latter at Carthagena.
ARMADILLO, in Zoology, a synonyme of the da-
sypus. See Dasypus, Mammalia Index.
ARMAGEDDON, a place spoken of in the Re¬
velation (xvi. 16.), which literally signifies the moun¬
tain of Mageddon or Megiddo, a city situated in the
great plain at the foot of Mount Carmel, where King
Josiah received his mortal wound in the battle against
Necho king of Egypt. At Armageddon, the three
unclean spirits, coming out of the dragon’s mouth,
shall gather together the kings of the earth to the battle
of the great day of God Almighty (Rev. xvi. 13. 14.).
The word armageddon, according to Mr Poole, does
not signify any particular place, but is here an allusion,
as some think, to that of Megiddo, mentioned Judges
v. 19. where Barak overcame Sisera with his great
army, and where Josiah was slain (2 Kings xxiii. 30.).
Others translate this word, the mountain of the gospel,
and others, the mountain of apples or fruits.
ARMAGH, a county of Ireland, bounded by
Louth on the south4 Lough-Neagh, on the north ;
Tyrone and Monaghan, on the west 5 and Down in
part on the east, from which it is separated by the Aima»j>
river Newry. It is in length 32 miles, in breadth 20; || °
and is divided into five baronies, containing about ^rnian!ax''
290,786 acres, or 454 English square miles. Both the *
air and soil are good, especially the latter, which is
said to be the richest in Ireland ; only there is a cer¬
tain tract in it called the Fewes, that is, hilly and bar¬
ren. The county of Armagh sends two members, and
the city one, to the imperial parliament.
Armagh, standing near the river Kalin, gives name
to the county, and is the see of the primate of all Ire¬
land. It is said to have been founded by St Patrick
in the fifth century : and in 1142, it was constituted
an archbishopric, together with Dublin, Cashel, and
Tuam, by Cardinal Papyreo, with the consent of the
kings, dukes, bishops, abbots, and states of Ireland.
This Papyreo was sent into Ireland by Pope Eugenius,
to reform the abuses that had crept into the church
discipline of that country. Here was anciently a fa¬
mous monastery built by St Colombo, or Columbanus,
about the year 610. The cathedral was often burnt,
but as often rebuilt and enlarged, and particularly by
Patrick Scanlain, about 1262. His successor Nicho¬
las, son of Molissa, besides books, rich ecclesiastical
vestments, and other things, bestowed on it an annual
pension of twenty marks. He appropriated also to his
see the manor of Dromyskin. He died the loth of
May, 1303. This town was first subjected to the
English by John de Courcy •, but afterwards entirely
destroyed by Tir Oen, or O’Neal, in Queen Elizabeth’s
time. However, it was afterwards recovered, rebuilt,
and garrisoned by the English.
The see of Armagh is valued in the king’s books,
by an extent taken anno 30th Henry VIII. at 183I.
17s. j^d. Irish money per annum, which amounts to
187]. 18s. o^d. the difference between Irish and Ster¬
ling money being at that time one-fourth. But by
an extent returned in the 15th of James I. it is valued
at 400I. sterling per annum, and pays so much first
fruits to this day. It is reputed to be worth annually
8000I. The chapter of Armagh is composed of five
dignitaries and four prebendaries, who have voices in
every capitular act. The dignitaries are thus ranked,
viz. a dean, chanter, chancellor, treasurer, and arch¬
deacon. There are also eight vicars choral, and an or¬
ganist, attendant on the service of the cathedral. The
vicars choral were anciently fewer $ and of the number
only one priest. Primate Marsh added another priest,
but without increasing the number of vicars. In the
year 1720, Primate Lindsay obtained a new charter
for enlarging the number of the said vicars to eight,
and laid out upwards of 4000I. on a purchase, in aug^
mentation of the estate of the choir. See Armagh,
Supplement.
ARMAGNAC, formerly a province of Guienne in
France, which with Gascony now forms the department
of Gers, is 55 miles in length, and 40 in breadth ;
bounded on the west by the river Garonne, on the south
by Bigorre and Bearn, on the west by Gascony, and
on the north by Condomois and Agenois : Audi is the
capital town. It is fertile in corn and wine, and car¬
ries on a considerable trade in brandy, wool, and bon-
chretin pears, which are excellent.
ARMAMAXI, in antiquity, a kind of Scythian
chariots or carriages, composed of two wheels, vari¬
ously
ARM
liniment ousty adorned with crowns, shield
[
breastplates, and
other spoils, carried in procession after the images of
Armenia, the gods and great men.
—v—ARMAMENT, a large body of forces, raised and
- provided with the furniture of war, either for land or
sea service.
ARMATURA, in a general sense, is the same with
what we otherwise call armour.
Armatura is more particularly used in the ancient
military art, for a kind of exercise, performed with
missive weapons, as darts, spears, arrows, and the like.
665 ] ARM
not determined. The Greeks suppose it to he so call¬
ed from one Armenus who attended Jason in the Ar-
gonautic expedition, and afterwards settled in this coun¬
try. Others, transforming Armenia into Aramia, de¬
rive its name from Aram the son of Shem, or from one
of the kings of Armenia bearing that name. Bochart
imagines it to be a contraction or compound of Aar,
a Hebrew word signifying a “ mountain,” and Mini
signifying “ metal,” and which was the name of a pro¬
vince of Armenia mentioned by the prophet Jeremiah.
Herodotus derives the ancient Armenians from the
Armctv
Y x l_ * 1 I* • • v a i a J V J J 2 cl 1J O AIUIIJ vIJC
In this sense, armatura stands contradistinguished from Phrygians, by reason that several Phrygian words were
natana ; hr*Inrr thr» f     c * ci _  • - a • i ^ ® ^
palaria ; the latter being the exercise of the heavy¬
armed, the former of the light-armed.
The armatura was practised with great diligence
among the Romans ; they had their campidoctores, on
purpose to instruct the tyrones or young soldiers in it.
Under it were included the throwing of the spear or
javelin, shooting with bows and arrows, &c.
Armatura is also an appellation given to the sol¬
diers who were light-armed.
Armatura is also a denomination given to the sol¬
diers in the emperor’s retinue. Of these we find two
schools, mentioned in the Notitia Imperii, called the
armaturce seniores and armaturee juniores. Their com¬
mander was entitled tribunus armaturarum.
ARMED, in the sea language. A cross bar shot
is said to be armed, when some rope yarn or the like
is roiled about the end of the iron bar, which runs
through the shot.
Armed, in Heraldry, is used when the horns, feet,
beak, or talons, of any beast or bird of prey, are of a
different colour from the rest of their body.
Armed Ship, a vessel occasionally taken into the
service of the government in time of war, and em¬
ployed to guard some particular coast, or attend on a
fleet. She is therefore armed and equipped in all re¬
spects like a ship of war, and commanded by an offi¬
cer of the navy, who has the rank of master and com¬
mander. All ships of this sort are upon the establish¬
ment of the king’s sloops, having a lieutenant, master,
purser, surgeon, &c.
ARMENE, or Armina, anciently a hamlet of Pa-
phlagonia, (Ptolemy). The inhabitants encompassed
it with a wall, because of the coldness of the place,
imagining by that means to render it warmer. But
this proving ineffectual, gave rise to the proverb Arme-
nen muro cingere, used to express some egregious folly.
ARMENIA, a country of Asia, anciently divided
into Armenia Major and Minor. Armenia Major, ac¬
cording to Strabo, was bounded on the south by Mount
Taurus, which separated it from Mesopotamia j on the
east, by the two Medias j on the north by Iberia and
Albania, or rather that part of Mount Caucasus which
surrounds them both j and on the west, by Armenia
Minor, or the mountains Paryadres, some Pontic na¬
tions, and the Euphrates. The most considerable ci¬
ties were Artaxata, Tigranocerta, and Theodosiopolis.
—Armenia Minor was bounded on the east by the
Euphrates j on the south by Mount Taurus, which
separated it from Cilicia j on the west and north by a
long chain of mountains, called in different places Mons
Scordiscus, Amanas, and Antitaurus, by which it was
separated from Cappadocia.
Whence this tract received the name of Armenia is
VOL. II. Part II. f
crept into the ancient Armenian language. But Strabo
reckons them to have been originally Syrians, which
Bochart looks upon to be the most probable opinion.
Armenia is said to have been very early advanced to
the honour of a kingdom. Berosus makes one Sytha
the first founder of this monarchy, whose successor Bar-
danes, he says, was driven out by Ninus king of As¬
syria. Plutarch mentions one Araxes king of Armenia,
who in a war with the Persians, being assured of suc¬
cess by an oracle, provided he sacrificed his two daugh¬
ters, caused the two daughters of one Miesalcus, a no¬
bleman of his court, to be sacrificed in their stead,
flattering himself that he thereby complied with the
oracle. But Miesalcus did not fail to revenge the death
of his own daughters by putting the king’s two daugh¬
ters to death, and pursued himself so closely, that he
was drowned in attempting to swim across the Araxes,
which was then called Helmus.
The Armenians were in process of time subdued by
the Medes, to whom Astyages made them tributaries,
but allowed them to be governed by their own kings j
but on the dissolution of the Median empire by Cyrus,
the kingdom was reduced to the form of a province,
and they were governed by Persian prefects or lieute¬
nants. On the destruction of the Persian empire by
Alexander the Great, Armenia fell into the hands of
the Macedonians ; to whom it continued subject till
the beginning of the reign of Antiochus the Greats
This prince having appointed two prefects, called Za-
driades and Artaxias, to govern Armenia, they excit¬
ed the people to a revolt, and caused themselves to be
proclaimed kings of the provinces over which they pre¬
sided.- Antiochus being then very young, they were
attended with success beyond their expectation ; which
encouraged them to attempt the enlargement of their
territories. Accordingly, invading the neighbouring
countries, they took from the Medes the provinces of
Caspiana, Phaunitis, and Basoropida j from the Ibe¬
rians Chorzena and Gogorena on the other side of the
Cyrus j from the Chalybes and Mossynseci, the pro¬
vinces of Pareneta and Herexena, which bordered on
Armenia Minor.
On this occasion, the above-mentioned division of
the kingdom into Armenia Major and Minor first took
place. Artaxias became king of Armenia Major and
Zadriades of Armenia Minor j and this distinction sub¬
sists even at this day.
By whom Artaxias was succeeded is not known j
neither have we any account of the transactions of his
reign, farther than that Antiochus led a powerful ar¬
my against him and Zadriades, but without being able
to recover a single province. Upon this he concluded
a peace, designing to fall upon them at a proper op-
4 P portunity j
ARM [ 666 1 ARM
portunlty ; but they having entered into alliance with
the Romans, by that means secured themselves in the
possession of their kingdom. After this, Artaxias was
defeated and taken px-isoner by Antiochus Epiphanes $
but, somehow or other, seems to have been restored to
his kingdom.
From this time we meet with a chasm in the Arme¬
nian history for 70 years ; during which all we know
is, that Tigranes, the king’s son, was delivered up as
an hostage to the Parthians j from whence it is plain,
that the Armenians had been carrying on an unsuc¬
cessful war With that nation. On the news of his fa-
ther’s death, however, the Parthians set the young king
at liberty, having fix-st obliged him to give up a consi¬
derable part of his kingdom by way of ransom.
Tigranes being thus restored to his father’s king¬
dom, was prevailed upon in the beginning of his reign
to enter into an alliance with Mithridates Eupator
against the Romans, whose power began to give jea¬
lousy to all the princes of Asia. One of the articles of
this treaty was, that Mithridates should have the cities
and conquered countx-xes, and Tigranes the captives
and plunder. In consequence of this, Tigranes was
to invade Cappadocia, which he had lately been obli¬
ged, by a decree of the senate of Rome, to give up to
Ariobarzanes. But before either of the princes took
the field, a marriage was solemnized with all possible
magnificence between Tigranes and Cleopatra the
daughter of Mithridates.
Immediately after the nuptials, Tigranes set out on
his intended expedition 5 and Ariobarzanes, on the first
news of his march, abandoned his kingdom and fled to
Rome. Thus Tigranes, without fighting a stroke, en¬
riched himself with the booty, and then pi’oclaimed
Ariarathes, Mithridates’s son, king of Cappadocia, to
the universal satisfaction of the people.
In the mean time, the Syrians being harassed with
a long and intestine war of the Seleucidae, invited Ti-
granes to come and take possession of their country ;
which he accordingly did, and kept it for 18 yearsj
till he was driven out by Pompey, and Syria reduced
to the form of a Roman province. Encouraged by
this success, he next invaded Armenia Minor j defeated
and killed King Artanes, who opposed him with a
considerable army; and in one campaign made himself
master of the whole kingdom. From Armenia Minor
he marched against the Asiatic Greeks, the Adiabe-
nians, the Assyrians, and the Gordians $ carrying all
before him, and obliging the people wherever lie came
to acknowledge him sovereign. From this second ex¬
pedition he returned home loaded with booty, which
he soon after increased by the spoils of Cappadocia, in¬
vading that kingdom a second time at the instance of
Mithridates, who had been obliged by the Romans to
withdraw his forces from thence. From Cappadocia
Tigranes, besides other booty, brought back into Ar¬
menia no fewer than 300,000 captives, having sur¬
rounded the country with his numerous forces in such
a manner that none could escape. These, together
with the prisoners he had taken in his two first expe¬
ditions, he employed in building the city of Tigrano-
certa, which they afterwards peopled.
In the mean time Mithridates, who had concluded a
peace with the Romans for no other end than to gain
time,, sent a solemn embassy to Tigranes, inviting him
to enter into a second alliance against the common ene¬
my. This he at first declined ; but in the end was
prevailed upon by his wife Cleopatra to send him con¬
siderable supplies, though he never came heartily into
the war, not caring to provoke the Romans, wlxo on
their part kept fair with him, taking no notice for the
present of the supplies he had sent Mithridates. That
unfortunate prince being soon after defeated by Lu-
cullus, was forced to fly for shelter into Armenia,
where he met with a very cold reception from his son-
in-law, who would neither see him, treat with him,
nor own him as his relation 5 however, he promised to
protect his person, and allowed him in one of his
castles a princely retinue, and a table suitable to his
former condition.
Though this total overthrow of Mithridates might
have opened the eyes of Tigranes, and made him op¬
pose with all his might the growing power of the Ro¬
mans, he foolishly left them to finish their conquest of
Pontus, while he marched at the head of a very nume¬
rous army against the Parthians, with a design to re¬
cover from them the dominions they had formerly ex¬
torted from him before they set him at liberty. These
he easily retook ; and not satisfied with what formeidy
belonged to him, he added to them all Mesopotamia,
the countries that lay about Ninus and Arbela, and the
fruitful province of Mygdonia j the Parthians, though
at that time a mighty people, flying everywhere be¬
fore him. From Mesopotamia Tigranes marched into
Syria to quell a rebellion which had been raised by Cle¬
opatra, surnamed Selene; who after the death of her
husband Antiochus Pius, reigned jointly with her sons
in that part of Syria which Tigranes had not seized
on. The malcontents were quickly reduced ; and the
queen herself was taken prisoner, and confined to the
castle of Seleucia, where she was soon after put to
death by the king’s orders. From Syria Tigranes pas¬
sed into Phcenicia, which he subdued either entirely or
in great part, spreading far and wide the terror of his
arms, insomuch that all the princes of Asia except
those who were in alliance with the Romans, either in
person or by their deputies, submitted and paid homage
to the conqueror.
The king, having now subdued all Syria to the bor¬
ders of Egypt, and being elated with a long course of
victories and prosperous events, began to look upon
himself as far above the level of other crowned heads.
He assumed the title of King of kings, and had many
kings waiting upon him as menial servants. He never
appeared on horseback without the attendance of four
kings dressed in livery, who ran by his horse $ and
when he gave answers to the nations that applied to
him, the ambassadois stood on either side the throne
with their hands clasped together, that attitude being
of all others then accounted among the orientals the
greatest acknowledgment of vassalage and servitude.
In the midst of all this haughtiness, however, he was
unexpectedly visited by an ambassador from Lucullus
the Roman general, who, without any ceremony, told
him, that he came to demand Mithridates king of
Pontus, who had taken refuge in his dominions, and,
in case of his refusal, to declare war against him. Not¬
withstanding his high opinion of himself, Tigi-anes re¬
turned a mild answer to this message: in which, how¬
ever, he refused to deliver up his father-in-law ; and
ARM [ 667 ] ARM
Armenia, being highly provoked at Lucullus for not giving him
_ ^.—<7 the title of King of kings in his letter, he did not so
much as bestow upon him the title of general in his
answer. In the mean time, being informed that Zar-
bienus king of the Gordians had entered into a private
alliance with the Romans, he put him, his wife, and
children to death ; and then, returning into Armenia,
received with the greatest pomp imaginable his father-
in-law Mithridates, whom till that time he had not ad¬
mitted into his presence, though he had resided a year
aud eight months in his dominions. They had several
private conferences $ and at last Mithridates was sent
back to Pontus with 10,000 horse, to raise there what
disturbances he could.
Lucullus, on the other hand, hearing the king’s re¬
solution to protect Mithridates, immediately began his
march for Armenia, at the head of only two legions
of foot and 3000 horse, having left 6000 men in Pon¬
tus to keep that country quiet. Having passed the Eu¬
phrates without opposition, he detached two parties $
one to besiege a city where he heard that Tigranes’s
treasure and concubines were kept; and the other, un¬
der Sextilius, to block up Tigranocerta, in order to
draw the king to a battle. ButTigranes, after having
put to death the scout that brought him the first intel¬
ligence of the approach of the Romans, made towards
Mount Taurus, which he had appointed for the place
of the general rendezvous. The Roman genei’al then
despatched Muraena in pursuit of the king j who, having
overtaken him in a narrow pass, defeated him, and,
besides all the baggage, carried off a great many pri¬
soners, the king himself have fled in the beginning of
the skirmish. After this, he sent out several parties to
scour the country, in order to prevent the innumerable
forces of Tigranes from joining into one body. This,
however, he was not able to effect; Tigranes was join¬
ed by such numbers of Gordians, Medes, Adiabenians,
Albanians, Iberians, &c. that before he left Mount
Taurus, his army consisted, according to Plutarch, of
150,000 foot armed cap-a-pee, 35,000 pioneers, 20,000
archers and slingers, and 55,000 horse.
Lucullus was so far from being dismayed at this
formidable army, that the only fear he had was lest
the king should follow the advice of Mithridates, which
was, not to engage the Romans, but, by ravaging the
country, distress them for want ol provisions. In or¬
der to draw him to a battle, tliei’efore, he formed the
siege of Tigranocerta, imagining that Tigranes would
never suffer that fine city to be taken without making
an attempt to relieve it. The event fully answered his
expectations : Tigranes having called a council of war,
it was unanimously resolved to attack the Romans ; and
Taxilis, whom Mithridates sent to dissuade the king
from venturing a battle, was in danger of losing his
head on account of the advice he gave. The Roman
general finding Tigranes disposed to come to an en¬
gagement, left Muraena with 6000 men to carry on
the siege, while he himself marched against the king’s
vast army with only 10,000 men according to some,
and the highest computations make them no more than
18,000. The Romans were at first greatly dishearten¬
ed ; but being encouraged by Lucullus, they imme¬
diately broke the Armenian army, who betook them¬
selves to flight almost at the first onset. The Romans
pursued them till night, making a most terrible slaugh¬
ter. Plutarch informs us, that of the Armenians, Armenia.
100,000 foot were killed, and that very few of the ca- 1 v——‘
valry escaped j whereas of the Romans only five men
were killed and 100 wounded. Antiochus the philoso¬
pher mentioning this battle, says that the sun never be¬
held the like: and Livy, that the Romans never fought
to such a disadvantage j the conquerors not amounting
to a twentieth part of the conquered. Tigranes in
his flight having met with his son in as foi’lorn a con¬
dition as himself, resigned to him his x’oyal x-obes and
diadem, desiring him to shift for himself and save those
royal ensigns. The young prince delivered them to a
trusty friend, who, being taken by the Romans, con¬
signed them to Lucullus.
While the king was making his escape after this ter¬
rible overthrow, he was met by Mithridates, who was
marching to his assistance at the head of a considerable
army. The king of Pontus cheered up his son-in-law
as well as he could, and encouraged him to continue
the war : advising him, instead of fruitlessly bewailing
the present disaster, to rally his troops, raise new sup¬
plies, and renew the war, not questioning but that in
another campaign he might repair all the losses he had
sustained : but while the two kings were consulting up¬
on these matters, Lucullus made himself master of Ti¬
granocerta. From this city he marched into the small
kingdom of Gordyene, where he celebrated, with the
utmost pomp, the obsequies of King Zarbienus, whom
Tigranes had put to death, lighting the funeral pile
with his own hand. In this kingdom, besides immense
sums of gold and silver, he met with such store of pro-
visons as enabled him to carry on the war without put¬
ting the republic to any charge.
The two kings, having levied new forces, appointed
their troops to rendezvous in the spacious plains on the
other side of Mount Taurus $ whereupon Lucullus
leaving Gordyene, and passing by Mount Taurus, en¬
camped close by the enemy. Several skirmishes hap¬
pened for some time between the two armies without
any considerable advantage $ but Lucullus could by
no means draw them to a general engagement. Upon
this he decamped, as if he designed to march to Ar- *•
taxata and lay siege to that place, where Tigranes
had left his wife and children, with great part of his
treasures. He had scarce formed his camp when the
enemy appeared, and sat down close by him. Lu¬
cullus did not allow them to fortify their camp, but
immediately attacked them, and having put them to
flight after a faint resistance, pursued them all night
with great slaughter, took most of the chief offi¬
cers prisoners, and returned the next day loaded with
booty.
The Roman soldiers now, finding the cold very se¬
vere, though it was no later in the year than the au¬
tumnal equinox, requested their general to allow them
to retire into winter quarters. This request he reject¬
ed with indignation ; upon which they mutinied. Lu¬
cullus did all he could to persuade them to continue in
their duty ; and prevailed so lar that they consented to
lay siege to Nisibis in hopes of booty. This place
they took : and Lucullus, to the great satisfaction ol
his troops, took up his winter quarters there. The
next year, however, his forces again mutinied, accu¬
sing him of amassing immense wealth for himself j and
throwing their empty purses at his feet, told him, that
ARM [ 668 ] ARM
Armenia, as he enriched himself alone, he might carry on the
v" war by himself. He endeavoured to appease them as
much as possible j but the sedition being fomented by
a party who favoured Pompey the Great, at that time
aspiring to the command of Lucullus’s army, the latter
found himself obliged to sit still and see Mithridates
and Tigranes overrun Cappadocia, and recover all Ar¬
menia and great part of Pontus. They would have
gained much greater advantages, had not a son of Ti¬
granes taken arms against his father, and obliged him
to divide his troops. The father and son coming to a
pitched battle, the latter was defeated, and forced to
save himself in Parthia, where he persuaded Phraates,
king of that country, to assist him with a numerous ar¬
my against his father. Phraates having laid siege to
Artaxata, Tigranes the elder was obliged to hide him¬
self in the mountainous parts of his kingdom $ up¬
on which the king of Parthia returned home. Of this
Tigranes the father being apprised, he immediately
abandoned the fastnesses of the mountains} and falling
upon his son at Artaxata, dispersed the rebels with
great slaughter} and entered his metropolis in triumph.
Tigranes the son first fled to Mithridates} but finding
him reduced to great straits, having been overcome a
few days before, with the loss of 40,000 men, by
Pompey, he went over to the Romans, and led them
into Armenia against his father as an ally of Mithri¬
dates.
Tigranes, being now quite dispirited, and unable to
make head against the Romans, resolved at once to
submit. Accordingly he waited on Pompey in his
camp, and having delivered his sword to two lictors,
prostrated himself before him, and laid his diadem at
his feet. Pompey, however, gave him a gracious re¬
ception, restored him the kingdom of Armenia, but
fined him of 6000 talents for making war on the Ro¬
man people without cause. As the king had appealed
to the Roman general for justice against his son, Pom¬
pey heard both parties the next day, and made the son
governor of Gordyene and Sophene} but the treasures
that were kept in the latter he adjudged to his father,
because without them he could not pay the fine. The
son, being thus disappointed, endeavoured first to make
his escape, and afterwards, by private messengers, soli¬
cited the inhabitants not to deliver up the treasures to
his father. This being taken very much amiss by
I ompey, he caused him to be kept in irons} and even
then he found means to stir up Phraates king of Par¬
thia, whose daughter he had married, against the Ro¬
mans, and to form a conspiracy against his father’s life ;
whereupon Pompey sent him in chains to Rome, where
he was kept prisoner in the house of T. Flavius a sena¬
tor, till the tribuneship of P. Clodtus, who, being
bribed with a large sum of money, set him at liberty
in spite of Pompey and the senate.
Tigranes being now thoroughly humbled, willingly
yielded to the Romans, Cappadocia, Syria, Cilicia, anil
that part of Phoenicia which he possessed, contenting
himself with his paternal kingdom ; and not only paid
the fine laid upon him, but made large presents to
Pompey, and all the officers of his army, which pro¬
cured him the title of the friend and ally of the Roman
people. He afterwards entered into a war with Phra¬
ates king of Parthia, by whom he was overcome, and
would have been driven out of his kingdom, had not a
2
peace been brought about by the mediation of Pompey. Arme4li
He ever after cultivated a strict friendship with the Ro- 4— ■ t-
mans 5 insomuch that he not only refused to receive Mi-
thridates, who fled to him after he had been routed by
Pompey near Mount Stella, but even offered a reward
of 100 talents to any one that would put him to death.
His second son also, by name Sariaster, took up arms
against him ; but by the assistance of the Romans, that
rebellion was soon quelled. He died in the 85th year
of his age} and was succeeded by his son Artuasdes,
called by Josephus ArtabaxeS) by Orosius Artabanes.
and by others Artoadistes.
Irom this time to the time of Trajan, Armenia was
governed by its own kings} but as they were plainly
vassals to the Romans, though they did not take that
title till the reign of the emperor Nero, their history
falls to be considered under that of the Romans.
.By Trajan the kingdom of Armenia Major was re¬
duced to the form of a Roman province} but it soon
recovered its liberty, and was again governed by its
own kings in the reigns of Constantine the Great, and
his successor, to whom the kings of Armenia were feu¬
datories. In the reign of Justin II. the Saracens sub¬
dued and held it till the irruption of the Turks, who
possessed themselves of this kingdom, and gave it the
name of Turcomania. The Turks, after the reduction
of Armenia, invaded Persia, and other countries sub¬
ject to the emperors of the east} which gave the Ar¬
menians an opportunity of shaking off the Turkish
yoke, and setting up kings of their own, by whom
they were governed till the country was again subdued
by Occadan, or, as some style him Heccata, the son
of Cingis, and first cham of the Tartars. Neither wa&
the conquest of Armenia by the Tartars so absolute as
to extirpate the race of their kings : seeing we read of
Haithon, surnamed the Armentany reigning some time
after, and going in person to treat with Mungo, the
great cham of Tartary, of the concerns of his king¬
dom } and in our chronicles we find mention made of
Leo king of Armenia, who, in the reign of Richard II.
came into England to sue for aid against the Turks,
by whom he had been driven from his kingdom. In the
year 1472 of the Christian era Ussan Cassanes king of
Armenia succeeding to the crown of Persia, made Ar¬
menia a province of that empire } in which state it con¬
tinued till the year 1522, when it was subdued by Se¬
lim II. and made a province of the Turkish empire^
Some say that Selim I. reduced it on his return from
Persia, where he had gained a complete yictory over
the great Sophi Ismael. But Sansovin assures us, that
in the reign of Selim I. who died in 1520, both the
Lesser and Greater Armenia had their own kings} and
adds, that Selim caused the head of the king of the
Lesser Armenia to be cut off and sent to Venice as a
mark of his victory. We read nowhere else of any
kings of Armenia after it became a province of Persia.
Be that as it will, the Turkish annals cited by Calvisius
inform us, that Selim II. conquered Armenia in 1552,
since which time it has ever continued subject to the
J urks, except the eastern part, which the Persians are
masters of to this day.
Concerning Armenia Minor, we find very little re¬
corded, except what has been already mentioned, and
what falls under the Roman history. It was made a
Roman province by Vespasian, continued so till the
division
ARM [ 669 ] ARM
division of the empire, when it was subjected to the em¬
perors of the east; and, on the decline of their power,
was subdued first by the Persians, and afterwards by
the Turks, who gave it the name of Genec/i, and have
kept it ever since.
This country is still divided into the Great and Small.
Great Armenia comprehends what is now called Tur-
comania. It has Georgia on the north, from which it
is separated by high mountains ; the river Euphrates
on the west ; Diarbeker, Curdistan, and Aderbijan,
on the south j and Shirvan on the east. The chief
towns in that part of Armenia belonging to Turkey
are Arzum the capital, near the springs of the Euphra¬
tes, a large city and a great thoroughfare for the cara¬
vans betwixt Turkey and Persia j Kara, a strong city,
head of the government of the same name j Bayazid, a
republic of Curds, near Mount Ararat: Baha, another
republic of the same ; and Van or Wan, on the lake
Van, the head of a government of the same name 5
■with other towns of less note. That part of Armenia
subject to Persia is chiefly contained in the province of
Aran, in which are several fine towns 5 as, Erivan or
Rivan, the capital of the whole j Ganjals, one of the
finest cities in Persia, in the north of the province,
near the Kur ; Kapan, on the south side, near the A-
ras; besides Naksivan, Astabad Julsa, Ordabad, Bay-
lakan or Pilkan on the Aras; Berdah and Shilkah on
the Kur.
The country in general is full of mountains and val¬
leys, lakes and rivers ; particularly the country about
the Three Churches, near Erivan, is admirably fine,
being full of rivulets, which render it extremely fruit¬
ful. Besides great quantities of all sorts of grain, here
are fields of a prodigious extent covered with tobacco:
but it is not a native of the place, though supposed
by some to be the terrestrial paradise : for it all came
originally from America. The rest of the country pro¬
duces rice, cotton, flax, melons, and grapes : in short,
there is nothing wanting but olives j which is by some
thought to prove that the ark could not rest on Mount
Ararat, because the dove brought an olive branch in
her mouth, and this tree never leaves a place where it
once grew. It seems, however, to have been otherwise
anciently j for Strabo tells us, that the olive grew in
Gogarene, a province of Armenia. They get oil to
burn from the ricinus, and use linseed oil in the kitchen.
The water melons are as cool as ice in the hottest day,
and melt in the mouth ; the best are produced in the
salt lands, near the Three Churches and the river
Aras. After rain, the sea salt lies in crystals upon the
fields, and even crackles under the feet. About ten
miles from the Three Churches, in the road to Teflis,
there are pits or quarries of fossil salt, which yield
enough to supply all Persia, without being exhausted :
they cut it into large pieces like stone, and each buf¬
falo carries two of them ; the mountain from W'hence
it is dug is nothing but a mass of salt, which appears
like a rock of silver when the sun shines on the places
not covered with earth.
This country has been remarkable for its extreme
cold from the remotest antiquity ; Sir John Chardin
tells us, that he found ice in the rivulets in the morn¬
ings even of the month of July. In many places, also,
if they had not the convenience of watering their
grounds, they would be almost entirely barren.
The Armenians are an honest, civil, polite people, Armenia,
scarce troubling themselves about any thing else but —v—~
trade, which they carry on in most parts of the world,
by which means they have spread themselves over the
east, and also a great part of Europe j and wherever
they come, commerce is carried on with spirit and ad¬
vantage.
The religion of the Armenians is the Christian, of
the Eutychian sect; that is, they own but one nature
in Jesus Christ 5 and when they speak of the hypostati-
cal union, that he is perfect God and perfect man with¬
out mixture. They have a high esteem for a book they
call the Little Gospel, which treats of the infancy of
Jesus, and says that the Virgin Mary being pregnant,
her sister Salome accused her of having prostituted her¬
self j to which the Virgin answered, that she needed
only to lay her hand on her belly, and she would know
how she came to be with child: this Salome accord¬
ingly did, and fire came out of her belly, which con¬
sumed the half of her arm j upon which she acknow¬
ledged her fault, and drew it back j after which it was
' healed by putting it to the same place.
The Armenian clergy consist of patriarchs, arch¬
bishops, doctors, secular priests, and monks. The se¬
cular priests are not allowed to marry a second time y
and therefore they take care to choose young healthy
wives ; they maintain themselves and families by fol¬
lowing some occupation, insomuch that they have
hardly time to perform their ecclesiastical functions :
they lie in the churches on the vigils of those days they
are obliged to officiate.
The Armenian monks are of the order of St Basil }
and every Wednesday and Friday they eat neither fish,
nor eggs, nor oil, nor any thing made of milk, and
during Lent they live upon nothing but roots j they are
allowed wine only on the Satui’day in the Holy Week,
and meat on the Easter Sunday. Besides the great
Lent they have four others of eight days each, which
are instituted to prepare for the four great festivals, of
the Nativity, the Ascension, the Annunciation, and of
St George ; in which times they must not so much as
speak of eggs, fish, oil, or butter.
The Armenians have seven sacraments j baptism,
confirmation, penance, the eucharist, extreme unction,
orders, and matrimony. In baptism, the child is plun¬
ged three times into the water, and the same form of
words that is used with us is repeated every time 5 the
priest then puts a small cord made with silk and cotton
on the neck of the infant, and anoints his forehead*
chin, stomach, armpits, hands, and feet, making the
sign of the cross on each pai^t. When the child is bap¬
tized, he is carried home by the godfather with the
sound of drums and trumpets. The women do not go
to church till 40 days after their delivery j and they
observe many Jewish customs.
At the communion, t© which infants of two or three
months old are admitted, the priests give a piece of the
consecrated host soaked in the consecrated wine. The
elements are covered with a great veil, and placed in a
cupboard near the altar, on the side of the gospels.
When the priest takes the chalice and patin, he is fol¬
lowed by his deacons and subdeacons, with flambeaux
and plates of copper furnished with bells : in this man¬
ner, with a censer before him, he goes in procession
round the sanctuary : he then sets them on the altar,
pronounces
ARM [ 670 ] ARM
Armenia pronounces the words of consecration, and turns him-
II self to the people, who fall down, kiss the earth, and
Anriillary.' jJea|. {jjgjj. 5reasts • then, after taking it himself, he
distributes the host soaked in wine to the people.
The Armenians seem to place the chief part of their
religion in fastings and abstinences : and among the
clergy, the higher the degree the lower they must live $
insomuch that it is said the archbishops live on nothing
but pulse. They consecrate holy water but once
a-year j at which time every one fills a pot and carries
it home, which brings in a considerable revenue to the
church.
ARMENIACA. See Prunus.
ARMENIAN, something belonging to or produced
in Armenia: thus we say, Armenian hole, Armenian
stone, &c. See Bole, and Armen us Lapis.
ARMENTEERS, a small handsome town in the de¬
partment of the North in France, containing 7600 in¬
habitants. It was taken by Lewis XIV. in 1667, who
dismantled it $ and it now belongs to the French. It
is seated on the river Lis. E. Long. 3. 3. N. Lat<
5°. 40.
ARMENUS lapis, Armenian stone, in Natural
History, a mineral substance, which is but improperly
called a stone ; being no other than an ochreous earth)
and properly called blue ochre. It is a very valuable
substance in painting, being a bright and lively blue.
It was in so high esteem as a paint among the ancients,
that counterfeits were continually attempted to serve
in its place. Theophrastus had recorded it as a thing
judged worthy a place in the Egyptian annals, which
of their kings had the honour of inventing the facti¬
tious kind j and he tells us the genuine native sub¬
stance was a thing of that value, that presents were
made of it to great persons, and that the Phoenicians*
paid their tribute in it.—It is a very beautiful earth,
of an even and regular texture ; and of a fine blue,
sometimes deeper, sometimes paler, and frequently mix¬
ed with green. It is soft, tender, and light $ of an
even, but somewhat dusty surface; it adheres firmly
to the. tongue, and is dry, but not harsh to the touch.
It easily breaks between the fingers, and does not stain
the hands. It is of a brackish disagreeable taste, and
does not ferment with acids. It is a very scarce fossil;
but is found very pure, though but in small quantities,
in the mines at Gosselaer in Saxdny. It is frequently
found spotted with green, and sometimes with black j
and very often is mixed among the green ochre, called
berggruen by the Germans, which has thence been er¬
roneously called by its name. See further the article
Bice.
ARMIERS, a town in France in the department of
the North, seated on the river Sambre. E. Loner, a.
45. N. Lat. 50.' 15..
ARMIGER, a title of dignity, belonging to such
gentlemen as bear arms j and these are either by cour¬
tesy, as sons of noblemen, eldest sons of knights, &c. j
or by creation, such as the king’s servants, See. See
Esquire.
ARMILLARY, in a general sense, something con¬
sisting of rings or circles.
Armillary Sphere, an artificial sphere composed of
a number of circles of the mundane sphere, put toge¬
ther in their natural order, to ease and assist the ima¬
gination in conceiving the constitution of the heavens ArmilW-
and the motions of the celestial bodies. The armillary ||
sphere revolves upon its axis within a silvered horizon, Arm‘nians
which is divided into degrees, and moveable every way v'“”V—
upon a brass supporter. The other parts are the equi¬
noctial, zodiac, meridian, the two tropics, and the tw’o
polar circles. See Geography.
ARMILUSTRIUM, in Roman antiquity, a feast
held among the Romans, in which they sacrificed, arm¬
ed, to the sound of trumpets.
ARMINIANS, a religious sect, or party, which
arose in Holland, by a separation from the Calvinists.
They followed the doctrine of Arminius (see the next
article) 5 who, thinking the doctrine of Calvin, with
regard to free-will, predestination, and grace, too se¬
vere, began to express his doubts concerning them in
the year 1591 j and upon further inquiry adopted sen¬
timents more nearly resembling those of the Lutherans
than of the Calvinists. After his appointment to the
theological chair at Leyden, he thought it his duty to
avow and vindicate the principles which he had em¬
braced ; and the freedom with which he published and
defended them exposed him to the resentment of those
that adhered to the theological system of Geneva, which
then prevailed in Holland j but bis principal opponent
was Gomar, his colleague. The controversy which
was thus begun, became more general'after the death
of Arminius, in the year 1609, and threatened to in¬
volve the United Provinces in civil discord. The Ar-
minian tenets gained ground under the mild and fa¬
vourable treatment of the magistrates of Holland, and
were adopted by several persons of merit and distinction.
The Calvinists, or Gomarists, as they were now called,
appealed to a national synod: accordingly the synod
of Hort was convened by order of the States General,
in 1618, and was composed of ecclesiastical deputies
from the United Provinces, as well as from the reform¬
ed churches of England, Plessia, Bremen, Switzerland,
and the Palatinate. The principal advocate in favour
of the Arminians was Episcopius, who, at that time,
was professor of divinity at Leyden. It was first pro¬
posed to discuss the principal subjects in dispute, and
that the Arminians should be allowed to state and vin¬
dicate the grounds on which their opinions were found¬
ed : but some difi'erence arising as to the proper mode
of conducting the debate, the Arminians were exclud¬
ed from the assembly 5 their case was tried in their
absence j and they were pronounced guilty of pestilen¬
tial errors, and condemned as corrupters of the true
religion. In consequence of this decision, they were
treated with great severity : they were deprived of all
their posts and employments j their ministers were si¬
lenced, and their congregations were?suppressed. How¬
ever, after the death of Prince Maurice, who had been
a violent partizan in favour of the Gomarists, in the
year 1625, the Arminian exiles were restored to their
former reputation and tranquillity $ and under the to¬
leration of the state, they erected churches and found¬
ed a college at Amsterdam, appointing Episcopius to
be the first theological professor. The Arminian system
has very much prevailed in England since the time of
Archbishop Laud, and its votaries in other countries
are very numerous.
The distinguishing tenets of the Arminians may be
comprised
ARM [ 671 ] ARM
Arminians. comprising in the followed five articles j relating to pre-
— v— ■ destination, universal redemption, the corruption of man,
conversion, and perseverance.
r. “With respect to the first, they maintained,
“ That God, from all eternity, determined to bestow sal¬
vation on those who he foresaw would persevere unto
the end in their faith in Christ Jesus ; and to inflict
everlasting punishment on those who should continue in
their unbelief, and resist unto the end his divine succours:
so that election was conditional, and reprobation in like
manner the result of foreseen infidelity and persevering
wickedness.”
2. On the second point the Arminians taught, “That
Jesus Christ, by his sufferings and death, made an a-
tonement for the sins of all mankind in general, and
of every individual in particular ; that, however, none
but those who believe in him can be partakers of their
divine benefit.”
3. On the third article, they held, “ That true faith
cannot proceed from the exercise of our natural facul¬
ties and powers, nor from the force and operation of
free will j since man, in consequence of his natural
corruption, is incapable either of thinking or doing
any good thing ; and that, therefore, it is necessary,
in order to his conversion and salvation, that he be
regenerated, and renewed by the operation of the
Holy Ghost, which is the gift of God through Jesus
Christ.”
4. “ That this divine grace, or energy of the Holy
Ghost, begins and perfects every thing that can be call¬
ed good in man, and consequently all good works are
to be attributed to God alone j that, nevertheless, this
grace is offered to all, and does not force men to act
against their inclination, but may be resisted and ren¬
dered ineffectual by the perverse will of the impenitent
sinner.” Some modern Arminians interpret this and the
last article with a greater latitude.
5. “ That God gives to the truly faithful, who are re¬
generated by his grace, the means of preserving them¬
selves in this state and though the first Arminians
made some doubt with respect to the closing part of this
article, their followers uniformly maintained, “that the
regenerate may lose true justifying faith, forfeit their
state of grace, and die in their sins.”
The modern system of Arminianism likewise, found¬
ed on a comprehensive plan projected by Arminius him¬
self, as appears from a passage in his last will, extends
the limits of the Christian church, and relaxes the bonds
of fraternal communion in such a manner, that Chri¬
stians of all sects and denominations, whatever their
sentiments and opinions may be, Papists excepted, may
be formed into one religious body, and live together
in brotherly love and concord. But, in order to avoid
the reproach of being altogether unconnected by any
common principles, Episcopius drew up a confession of
faith, expressed for the most part in words and phrases
of Holy Scripture, which the Arminians have general¬
ly adopted, though not enjoined upon them by any au¬
thoritative obligation. The Arminians are also called
Remonstrants, from an humble petition, entitled their
Remonstrance, which, in the year 1610, they addressed
to the States of Holland. Their principal writers are
Arminius, Episcopius, Vorstius, Grotius, Curcellseus,
Limborch, Le Clerc, and Wetstein ; not to mention
many others of more modern date.
3
ARMINIUS, James, whose real name in Low
Dutch was James Harmanni, a famous Protestant di¬
vine, from whom the modern sect of Arminians (see
the preceding article) take their name, was born at
Oude water, in Holland, in 1560. He was ordained
minister at Amsterdam on the nth of August 1588 ;
where he soon distinguished himself by his sermons,
which were remarkable for their solidity and learning,
and gained him universal applause but Martin Lydias,
professor of divinity at Franeker, judging him a fit per¬
son to refute a writing in which Beza’s doctrine of
predestination had been attacked by some ministers of
Delft, Arminius at his entreaties undertook the task ;
but upon thoroughly examining the reasons on both
sides, he came into the opinions he proposed to destroy,
and afterwards went still farther than the ministers of
Delft had done. In 1600, he opposed those who main¬
tained that ministers should subscribe the confession and
catechism every year. In 1602, a pestilential disease
raged at Amsterdam, during which he acted with the
greatest resolution and courage, in assisting the poor,
and comforting the sick ; and Lucas Trelcatius and
Irancis Junius dying of that disease at Leyden, the cu¬
rators of that university chose Arminius professor of
divinity there, and he was afterwards made doctor of
divinity. Disputes upon grace were soon after kindled
in that university j and he was at length engaged in a
new contest, occasioned by a disputation of his con¬
cerning the divinity of the Son. These contests, his
continual labour, and the concern of seeing his repu¬
tation blasted by a multitude of slanders in 1’elation to
his opinions, impaired his health, and threw him into
a fit of sickness, of which he died on the 19th of Oc¬
tober 1609. Arminius was esteemed an excellent
preacher j his voice was low, but very agreeable j and
his pronunciation admirable j he was easy and affable to
persons of all ranks, and facetious in his conversation
amongst his friends. His great desire was, that Chri¬
stians would bear with one another in all controversies
which did not affect the fundamentals of their religion;
and when they persecuted each other for points of in¬
difference, it gave him the utmost dissatisfaction. The
curators of the university of Leyden had so great a re¬
gard for him, that they settled a pension upon his wife
and children. He left several works, viz. 1. Disputa-
tiones de diversisChristiante religionis capitibus. 2. Ora-
tiones, itemque tractatus insigniores aliquot. 3. Exa-
men modest! libelli Gulielmi Perkinsi de praedestina-
tionis modo et ordine, itemque de amplitudine gratia;
divinae. 4. Analysis capitis noni ad Romanos. 5. Dis-
sertatio de vero et genuine sensu capitis septimi epistolae
ad Romanos. 6. Arnica collatio cum D. Francisco Ju-
nio de praedestinatione, per literas habita. 7. Epistola
ad Hippolytum h collibus.”
ARMIRO, a town of Thessaly, in European Tur¬
key ; seated on the gulf of Velo. E. Long. 23. 5.
N. Lat. 39. 10.
ARMISTICE, in military affairs, a temporary truce
or cessation of arms for a very short space of time. 1 he
word is Latin, armistitium ; and compounded of arma,
“ arms,” and sto, “ to stand, or stop.”
ARMOISIN, a silk stuff, or kind of taffety, manu¬
factured in the East Indies, at Lyons in France, and at
Lucca in Italy. That of the Indies is slighter than those
made in Europe.
ARMONIAC,,
Arminius
SI.
Armoisin.
ABM [ 672 ] ABM
Armoniac ARMONIAC. See Ammoniac, CHEMISTRY Index.
I! ARMONICA. See Harmonica.
ArtutHu.-r., ARMORIAL, something relating to arms or coats
of arms. See Arms and Heraldry.
ARMORIC, or Aremoric, something that be¬
longs to the province of Bretagne, or Britanny, in
France. The name Armorica was anciently given to
all the northern and western coast of Gaul, from the
Pyrenees to the Rhine $ under which name it was
known even in Ceesar’s time. The word is of Bas Bre¬
ton origin, and denotes as much as maritime; com¬
pounded, according to M. Menage, of, or, “ upon,” and
more, “ sea.”
ARMORIST, a person skilled in the knowledge of
armour.
ARMORUM concussio ; the clashing of arms
practised by the Roman armies previous to an engage¬
ment, and intended to strike a panic into their enemies j
it always followed the classicum and the barritus. See
Classicum and Barritus.
ARMOUR, a defensive habit, wherewith to cover
and secure the body from the attacks of an enemy, in
ancient statutes this is frequently called harness.—Parts
of armour are, the buckler, cuirass, helmet, coat of mail,
gauntlet, &e.
A complete armour anciently consisted of a casque
or helm, a gorget, cuirass, gauntlets, tasses, brassets,
cuishes, and covers for the legs, to which the spurs
were fastened. This they called armour cap-a-pie;
and was the wear of the cavaliers and men at arms.—
The infantry had only part of it j viz. a pot or head-
piece, a cuirass, and tasses $ but all light. Lastly, The
horses themselves had their armour, wherewith to co¬
ver the head and neck. Of all this furniture of war,
scarce any thing is now retained except the cuirass j
the gorget, or neck piece worn by officers, being at pre¬
sent only a badge of honour, and of no defence.
The gallantry of going to the battle naked, without
any defensive armour, prevailed so far, that the French,
during the reign of Louis XIV. were obliged to be conti¬
nually issuing ordonnances to restrain it 5 in consequence
of which the general officers, and those of the cavalry,
were obliged to resume the cuirass, which yet has been
but ill observed.
Armour, Coat, is the escutcheon of any person, or
family, with its several charges, and other furniture $
as mantling, crest, supporters, motto, &c. Thus we say,
a gentleman of coat armour $ meaning one who bears
arms.
ARMOURER, a maker of arms or armour.— The
Roman armourers were disposed in certain places in the
empire, it being forbid either to sell, or buy, or make
arms elsewhere. Ihey were exempt from all offices and
taxes, and received a salary from the public.
When once they had taken the employment on
themselves, neither they nor their children were al¬
lowed to quit it. To prevent this, they had a kind of
note, or stigma, impressed on the arm, whereby they
might be known. If any of them fled, or secreted
their ware, the rest were obliged to answer for him j
on account of which, the effects of such as died with¬
out a legal heir went to the college. There were 15
armarnentaries, or repositories of arms, in the East¬
ern empire, placed near the frontiers, and 19 in the
^ Western.
Armourer of a ship, a person whose office is to take Armouir
care that the arms be in a condition fit for service. |j
ARMOURV, a storehouse of arms, or a place where- Arm*,
in military habiliments are kept, to be ready for use.
There are armouries in the Tower, and in all arsenals,
citadels, castles, &c.
Armoury is also used for a branch of heraldry;
being the knowledge of coat armours, as to their bla¬
zons and various intendments.
ARMOZA, or Harmozia, a town in Caramania,
at the mouth of the Anamis, which falls into the Per¬
sian gulf (Arrian) ; Armuza, (Ptolemy) ; and from
this the neighbouring island, and a small kingdom, take
the modern name of Ormus. E. Long. 56. 17. N. Lat.
27. o.
ARMS, Arma, in a general sense, includes all kinds
of weapons, whether for defence or offence. Nicod de¬
rives the word from the Latin phrase quod operiant ar-
mos, because they cover the shoulders or sides; but
Varro derives arma, ab arcendo, eo quod arceant hostes,
It is supposed that the first artificial arms were of wood,
and were only employed against beasts ; and that Be-
lus, the son of Nimrod, was the first that waged war:
whence, according to some, came the appellation helium.
Diodorus Siculus takes Belus to be the same with Mars,
who first trained soldiers up to battle.—Arms of stone,
and even of brass, appear to have been used before they
came to iron and steel. Josephus assures us, that the
patriarch Joseph first taught the use of iron arms in
Egypt, arming the troops of Pharaoh with a casque and
buckler.
What contributed most to render the Romans mas¬
ters of the world, was, that having successively war-
red against all nations, they constantly renounced their
own methods, arms, &c. wherever they met with bet¬
ter. Thus Romulus during his war with the Sabines,
a bold and warlike nation, adopted their broad buckler,
in lieu of the small Argian buckler, which he had used
till that time.
The principal arms of the ancient Britons were hat¬
chets, scythes, lances, swords, and bucklers: the Saxons,
&c. brought in the halbert, bow, arrows, arbalists, &c.
By the ancient laws of England, every man was obliged
to bear arms, except the judges and clergy. Under
Henry A III. it was expressly enjoined on all persons to
be regularly instructed, even from their tender years, in
the exercise of the arms then in use ; viz. the long bow
and arrows: and to be provided with a certain number
of them. 33 Hen. VIII.
Arms, Arma, in Law, are extended to any thing
which a man takes in his hand in his wrath, to cast at,
or strike another.
By the common law, it is an offence for persons to
go or ride armed with dangerous weapons : but gentle¬
men may wear common armour, according to their
quality, &c. 3d Inst. The king may prohibit force of
arms, and punish offenders according to law ; and here¬
in every subject is bound to be aiding. Stat. 7. Edw. I.
None shall come with force and arms before the king’s
justices, nor ride armed in affray of the peace, on pain
to forfeit their armour, and to suffer imprisonment, Sec.
2 Edw. III. c. 3.
The importation of arms and ammunition are pro¬
hibited by 1 Jac. II. c. 8. and by I W. and M. stat. 2
c. 2. Protestant subjects may have arms for their de*
fence.
ARM [ 673
fence. So likewise arms, Sec. shipped after prohibition,
—r—-J are forfeited by 29 Geo. I. c. 16. sec. 2.
Arms of offence in use among us at present are, the
sword, pistol, musket, bayonet, pike, Sec.
The arms of the Highlanders are, the broadsword,
target, poniard, and whinyar or dork, Sec. There are
several acts of parliament for disarming the Highland¬
ers •, see I Geo. I. c. 54.; 11 Geo. I. c. 26. J 19 Geo.
If- c. 39.} 21 Geo. If. c. 34.; 26 Geo. II. c. 22. and
29.
Fire-Arms are those charged with powder and ball j
such are cannon, mortars, and other ordnance ; mus¬
kets, carabines, pistols, and even bombs, grenadoes,
carcasses, &c. In the History of the Royal Academy
for the year *707, we have an account of some experi¬
ments made with fire arms, differently loaded, by M.
Cassini. Among other things he observes, that by
loading the piece with a ball which is somewhat less
than the calibre, and only laying a little gunpowder
below the ball and a good deal above it, it will yield a
vehement noise, but have no sensible effect or impulse
on the ball. This he takes to have been all the secret
of those people who pretended to sell the art of render¬
ing one’s self invulnerable, or shot proof.
Arms, Pass of, was a kind of combat in use among
the ancient cavaliers.
Arms, Stand of. A stand of arms signifies a musket,
a bayonet, a sword, belt, and cartridge box.
Arms of parade or courtesy, were those used in the
ancient justs and tournaments j which were commonly
unshod lances, swords without edge or point, wooden
swords, and even canes.
Arms denote the natural weapons, or parts of de¬
fence, of beasts ; as claws, teeth, tusks of elephants,
beaks of birds, &c.
Arms, are also used figuratively for the profession of
a soldier. Thus we say, He was bred to arms.
Arms, or Armories, are also used in heraldry for
marks of dignity and honour, regularly composed of
certain figures and colours, given or authorized by so¬
vereigns, and borne on banners, shields, coats, Sec. for
the distinction of persons, families, and states ; and pas¬
sing by descent to posterity. They are called arms,
in regard they are borne principally on the buckler,
cuirass, banners, and ether apparatus of war. They are
also called coats of arms, coat armour, &c. because an¬
ciently embroidered on surcoats, &c. See Herald¬
ry. Some will have the name to have been first oc¬
casioned by the ancient knights, who in their justs and
tournaments bore certain marks (which were frequently
their mistress’s favours) in their armour, i. e. their hel¬
mets or shields, to distinguish them from each other.
Arms at present follow the nature of titles, which be¬
ing made hereditary, these are also become so, being
the several marks for distinguishing of families and
kindreds, as names are of persons and individuals.
Arms are variously distinguished by the Heralds.
Arms of Alliance, are those which families or private
persons join to their own, to denote the alliances which
they have contracted by marriage.
Arms Assumptive, are such as a man has a right to
assume of himself in virtue of some gallant action.
As, if a man who is no gentleman of blood, nor has
coat armour, takes a gentleman, lord, or prince, pri¬
soner in any lawful war j he becomes entitled to bear
Vol. II. Part II. f
1
arm
the shield of such prisoner, and en]oy it to him and his
heirs. The foundation hereof is that principle in mi- '
litarv law, that the dominion of things taken in lawful
war passes to the conqueror.
Arms, canting, are those wherein the figures bear
an allusion to the name of the family. Such are those
of the family of La Tour in Auvergne, who bear a
tower 5 that of the family of Prado 111 Spain, whose
field is a meadow. Most authors hold these the most
noble and regular, as is shown by an infinity of instan¬
ces produced by Father \ arrenne and Menetrier.—
Phey are much debased when they come to partake of
the Rebus.
Arms, charged, are such as retain their ancient inte¬
grity and value, with the add.tion of some new honour¬
able charge or bearing, in consideration of some noble
action.
Arms of community, are those of bishoprics, cities,
universities, and other bodies corporate.
Anns of concession, or augmentation of honour, are
either entire arms, or else one or more figures given by
princes, as a reward for some extraordinary service.
Arms of dominion, are those which emperors, kings,
and sovereign states bear j being annexed to the terri¬
tories which they possess. Thus the three lions are the
arms of England ; the fleurs de lys those of France, &c.
Arms of family, or paternal arms, are such as belong
to a particular family, and which no other person has a
right to assume.
Arms, full, or entire, are such as retain their primi¬
tive purity, integrity, or value ; without any altera¬
tions, diminutions, abatements, or the like. It is a
rule, that the simpler and less diversified the arms, the
more noble and ancient they are. For this reason Gar¬
cias Ximenes, first king of Navarre, and his successors
for several ages, bore only gules, without any figure
at all.
The arms of princes of the blood, of all younger sons,
and junior families, are not pure and full j but distin¬
guished and diminished by proper differences, &c.
Arms of patronage, are those which governors of pro¬
vinces, lords of manors, &c. add to their family arms,
in token of their peculiar superiority and jurisdiction.
Anns of pretension, are those of suc h kingdoms or
territories to which a prince or lord has some claim,
and which he adds to his own, though the kingdoms
or territories be possessed by a foreign prince or other
lord. T bus the kings of England have quartered the
arms of France with their own, ever since the claim of
Edward III. to that kingdom, in 1330.
Anns of succession, are assumed by those who inherit
estates, manors, &c. by will, entail, or donation, and
which they either impale or quarter with their own
arms.
Arms are also said to be parted, couped, quartered.
Sec.
Arms are said to be false and irregular, when there
is something in them contrary to the established rules
of heraldry. As, when metal is put on metal, or colour
on colour, &c.
Tiie laws, and other affairs of arms, with the cogni¬
zance of offences committed therein, belong, among us,
to the earl marshal and college of arms.
Arms, in Falconry, denote the legs of a hawk, from
the thigh to the foot. See Falconry.
4 Q ARMSTRONG,
Aiiws.
ARM [ 674 ] ARM
Armstrong. ARMSTRONG, Dr John, an eminent physician,
v—"A- poet, and miscellaneous writer, was born in Castleton
parish, Roxburghshire, where his father and brother
were ministers j completed his education in the univer¬
sity of Edinburgh, where he took his degree in phy¬
sic, Feb. 4. 1732, with much reputation ; and publish¬
ed his thesis, as the forms of that university require 5
the subject was De tabe purulenta. In 1735 he pub¬
lished a little humorous fugitive pamphlet in 8vo, en¬
titled, “ An Essay for abridging the Study of Phy¬
sic ; to which is added a Dialogue be'twixt Hygeia,
Mercury, and Pluto, relating to the practice of Phy¬
sic, as it is managed by a certain illustrious Society.
As also an Epistle from Usbeck the Persian to Joshua
Ward, Esq.” This piece contains much fun and
drollery j in the dialogue, he has caught the very spi¬
rit of Lucian. In 1737 he published a Synopsis of
the History and Cure of the Venereal Disease, 8vo.
This was soon followed by t\\e Economy of Love; a
poem which has much merit, but, it must be confes¬
sed, is too strongly tinctured with the licentiousness of
Ovid. It is said, however, that his maturer judgment
expunged many of the luxuriances of youthful fancy, in
an edition “revised and corrected by the author” in 1768.
It appears by one of the cases on literary property, that
Mr Millar paid 50 guineas for the copy-right of this
poem, which was intended as a burlesque on some di¬
dactic writers. It has been observed of Dr Armstrong,
that his works have great inequalities, some of them be¬
ing possessed of every requisite to be sought after in
the most perfect composition, while others can hardly be
considered as superior to the productions of mediocrity.
The Art of preserving Health, his best performance,
which was published in 1744, will transmit his name to
posterity as one of the first English writers, and has been
honoured with the following testimony of a respectable
critic. On this work we shall also transcribe a beauti-
* J>r Mac- ^ eulogium Rom an eminent physician* : “ Of all the
kenzic’s Hi- poetical performances on this subject that have come to
itory of rny hands, Dr Armstrong’s Art of preserving Health is
Health. ky far (-fog best, fX10 quote every charming description
and beautiful passage of this poem, one must transcribe
the whole. We cannot, however, expect new rules,
where the principal design was to raise and warm the
heart into a compliance with the solid precepts of the
ancients, which he has enforced with great strength and
elegance. And, upon the whole, he has convinced us,
by his own example, that we ought not to hlame anti¬
quity for acknowledging
One power of physic, melody, and song.”
In 1746 Dr Armstrong was appointed one of the
physicians to the Hospital for Lame and Sick Soldiers
behind Buckingham house. In 1751 he published his
poem on Benevolence, in folio j and in 1753, “ Taste,
an Epistle to a young Critic.” In 1758 appeared,
“ Sketches or Essays on various subjects, by Launce-
lot Temple, Esq. in two parts.” In this production,
which possesses much humour and knowledge of the
world, and which had a remarkably rapid sale, he is
supposed to have been assisted by Mr Wilkes. In 1^60
he had the honour of being appointed physician to the
army in Germany, where in 1761 he wrote a poem
called “Day, an Epistle to John Wilkes of Aylesbu-
Esq.” In this poem, which is not collected in his
$
works, he wantonly hazarded a reflection on Church- Amstron
ill, which drew on him the serpent-toothed vengeance []
of that severest of satirists, whose embalming or corro- Army,
sive pen could deify or lampoon any man, according v ~
as he acquiesced with, or dissented from his political
principles. In 1770 Dr Armstrong published a col¬
lection of Miscellanies, in 2 vols.; containing, 1. The
Art of preserving Health. 2. Of Benevolence, an
Epistle to Eumenes. 3. Taste, an Epistle to a young
Critic, 1753. 4. Imitations of Shakespeare and Spen¬
ser. 5. The Universal Almanack, by Noureddin Ali.
6. The Forced Marriage, a tragedy. 7. Sketches.”
In 1771 he published “ A short Ramble through some
parts of France and Italy, by Launcelot Temple $”
and in 1773, in his own name, a quarto pamphlet, un¬
der the title of “ Medical Essays 5” towards the con¬
clusion of which, he accounts for his not having such
extensive practice as some of his brethren, from his
not being qualified to employ the usual means, from a
ticklish state of spirits, and a distempered excess of sen¬
sibility. He complains much of the behaviour of some
of his brethren, of the herd of critics, and particularly
of the reviewers. He died in Sept. 1779 j and to the
no small surprise of his friends, left behind him more
than 300I. saved out of a very moderate income, arising
principally from his half-pay.
ARMUYDEN, a sea port town of the United Pro¬
vinces, in the island of Walcheren, formerly very flou¬
rishing j but now inconsiderable, the sea having stop¬
ped up the harbour. The salt works are its chief re¬
source. E. Long. 3. 40. N. Lat. 51. 30.
ARMY, a large number of soldiers, consisting of
horse and foot, completely armed, and provided with
artillery, ammunition, provisions, &c. under the com¬
mand of one general, having lieutenant-generals, ma¬
jor-generals, brigadiers, and other officers under him.
An army is composed of squadrons and battalions; and
is usually divided into three corps, and formed in three
lines : the first line is called the van-guard, the second
the main body, and the third i\\e rear-guard, or body of
reserve. The middle of each line is possessed by the foot j
the cavalry form the right and left wing of each line $
and sometimes they place squadrons of horse in the inter¬
vals between the battalions. When the army is drawn
up in order of battle, the horse are placed at five feet
distance from each other, and the foot at three. In each
line the battalions are distant from each other 180 feet,
which is nearly equal to the extent of their front; and
the same holds of the squadrons, which are about 300
feet distant, the extent of their own front. These inter¬
vals are left for the squadrons and battalions of the se¬
cond line to range themselves against the intervals of the
first, that both may more readily march through these
spaces to the enemy : the first line is usually 300 feet di¬
stant from the second, and the second from the third,
that there may be sufficient room to rally when the squa¬
drons and battalions are broken. See the article War.
This is to be understood of a land army only. A
naval or sea army is a number of ships of war, equip¬
ped and manned with sailors and marines, under the
command of an admiral, with other inferior officers un¬
der him. See War, Part II.
It has been observed, that in Europe a prince with
a million of subjects cannot keep an army of above
10,000 men, without ruining himself. It was other¬
wise
ABM f 675 ] ABM
Army. 'v‘se in ancient republics : the proportion of sol-
—yi—> diers to the rest of the people, which is now as about
one to IOO, might then be as about one to eight.
The reason seems owing to that equal partition of
lands which the ancient founders of commonwealths
made among their subjects; so that every man had a
considerable property to defend, and means to defend
it with : whereas, among us, the lands and riches of
a nation being shared among a few, the rest have no
way of subsisting but by trades, arts, and the like;
and have neither any free property to defend, nor
means to enable them to go to war in defence of it,
without starving their families. A large part of our
people are either artisans or servants, and so only mi¬
nister tox the luxury and effeminacy of the great. While
the equality of lands subsisted, Rome, though only a
little state, being refused the succours which the La¬
tins were obliged to furnish after the taking of the city
in the consulate of Camillus, presently raised ten le¬
gions within its own walls ; which was more, Livy as¬
sures us, than they were able to do in his time, though
masters of the greatest part of the world. A full proof,
adds the historian, that we are not grown stronger ; and
that what swells our city is only luxury, and the means
and effects of it.
Our armies anciently were a sort of militia, com¬
posed chiefly of the vassals and tenants of the lords.
When each company had served the number of days
or months enjoined by their tenure, or the customs of
the fees they held, they returned home. The armies
of the empire consist of divers bodies of troops, furnished
by the several circles. The gross of the French armies
under the Merovingian race, consisted of infantry. Un¬
der Pepin and Charlemagne, the armies consisted almost
equally of cavalry and foot: but since the declension of
the Carlovingian line, the fees being become hereditary,
the national armies, says Le Gendre, are chiefly ca¬
valry.
A well regulated standing army is greatly superior to
a militia *, although a militia, it is to be observed, after
serving two or three campaigns, may become equal to a
standing army, and in every respect a match for veteran
troopSv See Militia.
One of the first standing armies of which we have
a distinct account, in any well authenticated history, is
that of Philip of Macedon. His frequent wars with
the Thracians, Illyrians, Thessalians, and some of the
Greek cities in the neighbourhood of Macedon, gra¬
dually formed his troops, which in the beginning were
probably militia, to the exact discipline of a standing
army. When he was at peace, which was very seldom,
and never for any long time together, he was careful
not to disband that army. It vanquished and subdued,
after a long and violent struggle, indeed, the gallant
and well exercised militias of the principal republics of
ancient Greece ; and afterwards, with very little strug-
fle, the effeminate and ill exercised militia of the great
’ersian empire. The fall of the Greek republics and
of the Persian empire, was the effect of the irresistible
superiority which a standing army has qver every sort of
militia. It is the first great revolution in the affairs of
mankind of which history has preserved any distinct or
circumstantial account.
The fall of Carthage, and the consequent elevation
of Rome, is the second. All the varieties in the for¬
tune of those two famous republics may very well be ac¬
counted for from the same cause.
From the end of the first to the beginning of the
second Carthaginian war, the armies of Carthage were
continually in the field, and employed under three
great generals, who succeeded one another in the com¬
mand ; Hamilcar, his son-in-law Asdrubal, and his son
Hannibal: first in chastising their own rebellious slaves,
afterwards in subduing the revolted nations of Africa,
and, lastly, in conquering the great kingdom of Spain.
The army which Hannibal led from Spain into Italy
must necessarily, in those different wars, have been
gradually formed to the exact discipline of a stand¬
ing army. The Romans, in the mean time, though
they had not been altogether at peace, yet they had
not during this period, been engaged in any war of
very great consequence j and their military discipline,
it is generally said, was a good deal relaxed. The Ro*
man armies which Hannibal encountered at Trebia,
Thrasymenus, and Cannre, were militia opposed to a
standing army. This circumstance, it is probable, con¬
tributed more than any other to determine the fate of
those battles.
The standing army which Hannibal left behind him
in Spain, had the like superiority over the militia
which the Romans sent to oppose it, and in a few
years, under the command of his brother the younger
Asdrubal, expelled them almost entirely from that
country.
Hannibal was ill supplied from home. The Roman
militia, being continually in the field, became in the
progress of the war a well disciplined and well exercised
standing army ; and the superiority of Hannibal grew
every day less and less. Asdrubal judged it necessary to
lead the whole, or almost the whole, of the standing ar¬
my which he commanded in Spain, to the assistance of
his brother in Italy. In this march he is said to have
been misled by his guides 5 and in a country which he
did not know, was surprised and attacked by another
standing army, in every respect equal or superior to his
own, and was entirely defeated.
When Asdrubal had left Spain, the great Scipio
found nothing to oppose him but a militia inferior to
his own. He conquered and subdued that militia;
and in the course of the war, his own militia necessa¬
rily became a well disciplined and well exercised stand¬
ing army. That standing army was afterwards carried
to Africa, where it found nothing but a militia to oppose
it. In order to defend Carthage, it became necessary
to recal the standing army of Hannibal. The dis¬
heartened and frequently defeated African militia
joined it, and at the battle of Zama composed the
greater part of the troops of Hannibal. The event
of that day determined the fate of the two rival re¬
publics.
From the end of the second Carthaginian war till
the fall of the Roman republic, the armies of Rome
Avere in every respect standing armies. The standing
army of Macedon made some resistance to their arms.
In the height of their grandeur, it cost them two great
wars and three great battles, to subdue that little king¬
dom ; of which the conquest would probably have been
still more difficult, had it not been for the cowardice
of its last king. The militias of all the civilized na¬
tions of the ancient world, of Greece, of Syria, and
4 Q 2 of
ARM
Amy. of Egypt, made but a feeble resistance to the standing
—v—armies of Rome. The militias of some barbarous na¬
tions defended themselves much better. The Scythian
or Tartar militia, which Mithridates drew from the
countries north of the Euxine and Caspian seas, were
the most formidable enemies whom the Romans had to
encounter after the second Carthaginian war. The
Parthian and German militias too were always respec¬
table, and upon several occasions gained very consi¬
derable advantages over the Roman armies. In gene¬
ral, however, and when the Roman armies were well
commanded, they appear to have been very much su¬
perior.
Many different causes contributed to relax the dis¬
cipline of the Roman armies. Its extreme severity
was, perhaps, one of those causes. In the days of their
grandeur, when no enemy appeared capable of oppo¬
sing them, their heavy armour was laid aside as unne¬
cessarily burdensome, their laborious exercises were ne¬
glected as unnecessarily toilsome. Under the Roman
emperors, besides, the standing armies of Rome, those
particularly which guarded the German and Pannonian
frontiers, became dangerous to their masters, against
whom they used frequently to set up their own gene¬
rals. In order to render them less formidable, accord¬
ing to some authors Dioclesian, according to others
Constantine, first withdrew them from the frontiers,
where they had always before been encamped in great
bodies, generally of two or three legions each, and
dispersed them in small bodies through the different
provincial towns, from whence they were scarce ever
removed, but when it became necessary to repel an
invasion. Small bodies of soldiers quartered in trading
and manufacturing towns, and seldom removed from
these quarters, became themselves tradesmen, artificers,
and manufacturers. The civil came to predominate
over the military character ; and the standing armies
of Rome gradually degenerated into a corrupt, ne¬
glected, and undisciplined militia, incapable of resist¬
ing the attack of the German and Scythian militias,
which soon afterwards invaded the western empire. It
was only by hiring the militia of some of those nations
to oppose to that ol others, that the emperors were for
*ome time able to defend themselves. The fall of the
western empire is the third great revolution in the af¬
fairs of mankind, of which ancient history has preser¬
ved any distinct or circumstantial account. It was
brought about by the irresistible superiority which the
militia of a barbarous has over that of a civilized na¬
tion j which the militia of a nation of shepherds has
over that of a nation of husbandmen, artificers, and
manufacturers. The victories which have been gained
by militias have generally been not over standing ar¬
mies, but over other militias in exercise and discipline
inferior to themselves. Such were the victories which
the Greek militia gained over that of the Persian em¬
pire j and such too were those which in later times the
Stviss militia gained over that of the Austrians and
Burgundians.
The military force of the German and Scythian na¬
tions, who established themselves upon the ruins of the
western empire, continued for some time to be of the
*ame kind in their new settlements as it had been in
their original country. It was a militia of shepherds
and husbandmen, which in time of war took the field
arm
under the command of the same chieftains whom it was
accustomed to obey in peace. It was therefore toler- y—.
ably welUxercised and tolerably well disciplined. As
arts and industry advanced, however, the authority of
the chieftains gradually decayed, and the great body
of the people had less time to spare for military exer¬
cises. Both the discipline and the exercise of the feu¬
dal militia, therefore, went gradually to ruin, and stand¬
ing armies were gradually introduced to supply the place
of it. When the expedient of a standing army, besides,
had once been adopted by one civilized nation, it be¬
came necessary that all its neighbours should follow the
example. Ibey soon found that their safety depended
upon their doing so, and that their own militia was
altogether incapable of resisting the attack of such an
army.
The soldiers of a standing army, though they may
never have seen an enemy, yet have frequently appear¬
ed to possess all the courage of veteran troops, and the
very moment that they took the field, to have been fit
to face the hardiest and most experienced veterans. In
a long peace the generals perhaps may sometimes for¬
get their skill j but where a well regulated standing
army has been kept up, the soldiers seem never to for¬
get their valour.
When a civilized nation depends for its defence upon
a militia, it is at all times exposed to be conquered by
any barbarous nation which happens to be in its neigh¬
bourhood. The frequent conquests of all the civilized
countries in Asia by the Tartars, sufficiently demon¬
strates the natural superiority which the militia of a
barbarous lias over that of a civilized nation. A well
regulated standing army is superior to every militia.
Such an army, as it can best be maintained by an
opulent and civilized nation, so it can alone defend
such a nation against the invasion of a poor and barba¬
rous neighbour. It is only by means of a standing ar¬
my, therefore, that the civilization of any country can
be perpetuated, or even preserved for any considerable
time.
As it is only by means of a well regulated standing
army that a civilized country can be defended, so it is
only by means of it that a barbarbous country can be
suddenly and tolerably civilized. A standing army
establishes, with an irresistible force, the law of the so¬
vereign through the remotest provinces of the empire,
and maintains some degree of regular government in
countries which could not otherwise admit of any.
Whoever examines with attention the improvements
which Peter the Great introduced into the Russian em¬
pire, will find that they almost all resolve themselves
into the establishment of a well regulated standing ar¬
my. It is the instrument which executes and main¬
tains all his other regulations. That degree of order
and internal peace which that empire has ever since
enjoyed, is altogether owing to the influence of that
army.
Men of republican principles have been jealous of a
standing army as dangerous to liberty. It certainly is
so, wherever the interest of the general and that of the
principal officers are not necessarily connected with the
support of the constitution of the state. The standing
army of Cassar destroyed the Roman republic j the
standing army of Cromwell turned the long parliament
out of doors. But where the sovereign is himself the
general,
[ 676 ]
A R N
[ 677 ]
A R N
general, and the principal nobility and gentry of the
country the chief officers of the army ; where the mi¬
litary force is placed under the command of those who
have the greatest interest in the support of the civil
authority, because they have themselves the greatest
share of that authority ; a standing army can never be
dangerous to liberty : on the contrary it may, in some
cases, be favourable to liberty. The security which it
gives to the sovereign renders unnecessary that tiouble-
some jealousy which in some modern republics seems
to watch over the minutest actions, and to be at all
times ready to disturb the peace of every citizen.
Where the security of the magistrate, though support¬
ed by the principal people of the country, is endanger¬
ed by every popular discontent ; where a small tumult
is capable of bringing about in a few honrs a great re¬
volution ; the whole authority of government must be
employed to suppress and punish every murmur and
complaint against it. To the sovereign, on the contra¬
ry, who feels himself supported not only by the natu¬
ral aristocracy of the country, but by a well regu¬
lated standing army, the rudest, the most groundless,
and the most licentious remonstrances, can give little
disturbance. He can safely pardon or neglect them,
and his consciousness of his own superiority naturally
disposes him to do so. That degree of liberty which
approaches to licentiousness can be tolerated only in
countries where the sovereign is secured by a well re¬
gulated standing army. It is in such countries only
that the public safety does not require that the sove¬
reign should be trusted with any discretionary power
for suppressing even the impertinent wantonness of this
licentious liberty.
ARNALL, William, a noted political writer in
defence of Sir Robert Walpole, was originally an at¬
torney’s clerk ; but being recommended to Walpole,
he employed him for a course of years in writing the
Free Briton and other papers in defence of his admini¬
stration. By the report of the secret committee, he ap¬
pears to have received, in the space of four years, no
less than 10,997!. 6s. 8d. out of the treasury for his
writings ! but spending his money as fast as it came,
and his supplies stopping on Sir Robert’s resignation, he
died broken-hearted and in debt, in the 26th year of
his age. His invention was so quick, that his honour¬
able employer used to say, no man in England could
write a pamphlet in so little time as Arnall.
ARNAUD de Meyrveilh, or Mereuil, a poet
of Provence, who lived at the beginning of the 13th
century. He wrote a book entitled Las recastenas de
sa contesse, and a collection of poems and sonnets. He
died in the year 1220. Petrarch mentions him in his
Triumph of Love.
Arnaud de Villa Nova, a famous physician,
who lived about the end of the 13th and beginning of
the 14th century. He studied at Paris and Montpelier,
and travelled through Italy and Spain. He was well
acquainted with languages, and particularly with the
Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic. Pie was at great pains
to gratify his ardent desire alter knowledge ; but this
passion carried him rather too far in his researches : he
endeavoured to discover future events by astrology,
imagining this science to be infallible j and upon this
foundation he published a prediction, that the world
would come to an end in the middle of the 14th cen¬
tury. He practised physic at Paris for some time j .but ArnauW,
having advanced some new doctrines, he drew upon Arnay-k-
himselfthe resentment of the university; and his friends,
fearing he might be arrested, persuaded him to re¬
tire from that city. Upon his leaving France, he xe-
tired to Sicily, where he was received by King Fre¬
derick of Ari’agon with the greatest marks of kindness
and esteem. Some time afterwards, this prince sent
him to France, to attend Pope Clement in an illness;,
and he was shipwrecked on the coast of Genoa, about
the year 1313. The works of Arnaud, with his life
prefixed, were printed in one volume in folio, at Lyons,
in 1520; and at Basil in 1585, with the notes of Ni¬
cholas Tolerus.
Arnaud d’Andilly, Robert, the son of a cele¬
brated advocate of the parliament of Paris, was boin
in 1588; and being introduced young at court, w^s
employed in many considerable offices, all which he dis¬
charged with great integrity and reputation. In 1644
he quitted business, and retired into the convent of
Port Royal des Champs, where he passed the remain¬
der of his days in a continued application to works of
piety and devotion; and enriched the French language
with many excellent translations of different writers,
as well as with religious compositions of his own.
He died in 1674, and his works are printed in 8 vols.
folio.
Arnaud, Antony, brother of the preceding, and
a doctor of the Sorbonne, was born in 16:2. He pu¬
blished, in 1643, A Treatise on frequent Communion,
which highly displeased the Jesuits ; and the disputes
upon grace, which broke out about this time in the uni¬
versity of Paris, and in which he took a zealous part
with the Jansenists, helped to increase the animosity be¬
tween him and the Jesuits. But nothing raised so great
a clamour against him as the two letters he wrote on
Absolution ; in the second of which the faculty of di¬
vinity found tvTO propositions which they condemned,
and M. Arnaud was expelled the society. Upon this
he retired ; and during a retreat which lasted near 25
years, he composed that great variety of works which
are extant of his, on grammar, geometry, logic, me¬
taphysics, and theology. In 1679, withdrew from
France, lived in obscurity in the Netherlands, and
died in 1694. His heart, at his own request, was sent
to be deposited in the Port Royal. Arnaud had a re¬
markable strength of genius, memory, and command of
his pen ; nor did these decay even to the last year of
his life. Mr Bayle says, he had been told by persons
who had been admitted into his familiar conversation,
that he was a man very simple in his manners; and that
unless any one pi’oposed some question to him, or de¬
sired some information, he said nothing that was be¬
yond common conversation,, or that might make one
take him for a man of great abilities; but when he set
himself to give an answer to such as proposed a point
of learning, he seemed as it wei’e transformed into an¬
other man : he would then deliver a multitude of
things with great perspicuity and learning.
Arnaud de Ronsil, George, an, eminent French
surgeon. See Supplement.,
ARNAY-LE DUG, a town of France, in the de¬
partment of Cote d’Or, which carries on a pretty good
trade. It is seated on the Auxois, in a valley near th«
river ,Aroux., E, Long. 4. 26. N. Lat.
A R N [ 678 ] A R N
Arndt ARNDT, John, a famous Protestant divine of Ger-
l! many, born at Ballenstad, in the duchy of Anhalt, in
AmisifHs. year 1 jjj j. At first he applied himself to the study
of physic : but falling into a dangerous sickness, he
made a vow to change his profession for that of divini¬
ty, if he should be restored to health j which he accor¬
dingly did upon his recovery. He was a minister first
at Quedlinburg and then at Brunswick. He met with
great opposition in this last city: his success as a preach¬
er raising the enmity of his brethren, who became his
bitter enemies. In order to ruin his character, they
ascribed a variety of errors to him 5 and persecuted
him to such a degree, that he was obliged to leave
Brunswick, and retire to Isleb, where he was minister
for three years. In 1611, George duke of Lunenburg,
who had a high opinion of his integrity and sanctity,
gave him the church of Zell, and appointed him su-
perintendant of all the churches in the duchy of Lu¬
nenburg ; which office he discharged for 11 years, and
died in 1621. It is reported that he foretold his death,
having said to his wife, upon his return home after his
last sermon, that now he had preached his funeral ser¬
mon. He wrote in High Dutch A Treatise on Time
Christianity, which has been translated into several lan¬
guages.
ARNE, Dr Thomas Augustine, distinguished by
his skill in music, was the son of Mr Arne an uphol¬
sterer in Covent-Garden, whom Addison is supposed
to have characterized in N° 155 and N° 160 of The
Taller 5 and brother of Mrs Cibber the player. He
was early devoted to music, and soon became eminent
in his profession. July 6. 1759, he had the degree of
doctor of music conferred on him at Oxford. His com¬
positions are universally applauded, and he was also
particularly skilful in instructing vocal performers. He
died March 5. 1778* having written the following
pieces: Artaxerxes, 1762; The Guardian outwitted,
1764 The Rose, 17787 all of them operas.
ARNHEIM, a town of the Low Countries, in the
province of Guelderland, capital of Veluive. It is
adorned with several fine churches, particularly that of
St Walburg and of St Eusebius $ which last has a very
high tower. The town has five gates, and several
fine ramparts, part of which are washed by the Rhine,
and the other parts have wide and deep ditches before
them. There is a canal made between this place and
Nimeguen, at the expence of both towns, on which
boats pass backwards and forwards to carry on a trade
between them. The air is very healthful; on which
account it is inhabited by persons of distinction. E.
Long. 5. 55. N. Lat. 52. o.
ARNICA, Leopard’s bane. See Botany Index.
ARNISiEUS, Henningus, a philosopher and phy¬
sician of great reputation, about the beginning of the
17th century. He was born at Halberstadt in Ger¬
many, and was professor of physic in the university of
Helmstadt. His political works are much esteemed.
The most remarkable of them is his book Tie authori-
tate principum in populum semper inviolabili, printed at
Francfort in 1612. In this he maintains that the
authority of princes ought not to be violated. He
wrote also upon the same doctrine his three books, De
jure Majestatis, printed at the same place in 1610 ; and
his Reflcctiones Politicee, printed at Francfort in 1615.
Having received an invitation to go to Denmark, he Amim
went thither, and was made counsellor and physician |j
to the king. He travelled into France and England, , Arnold,
and died in November 1635. Besides the pieces al- yr~“
ready mentioned, he wrote several philosophical, me¬
dicinal, and poetical treatises.
ARNOBlUS, professor of rhetoric at Sicca, in
Numidia, towards the end of the third century. It
was owing to certain dreams which he had that he
became desirous of embracing Christianity. For this
purpose he applied to the bishops to be admitted into
the church. But they, remembering the violence with
which he had always opposed the true faith, had some
distrust of him ; and before they would admit him, in¬
sisted on some proofs of his sincerity. In compliance
with this demand, he wrote against the Gentiles:
wherein he has refuted the absurdities of their religion,
and ridiculed their false gods. In this treatise he has
employed all the florvers of rhetoric, and displayed great
learning: but from an impatience to be admitted into
the body of the faithful, he is thought to have been in
too great a hurry in composing his work, and thence
it is that there does not appear in this piece such an
exact order and disposition as could be wished j and
not having a perfect and exact knowledge of the Chris¬
tian faith, he published some very dangerous errors.
Mr Bayle remarks, that his notions about the origin of
the soul, and the cause of natural evil, and several other
important points, are highly pernicious. St Jerome, in
his epistle to Paulinus, is of opinion that his style is
unequal and too diffuse, and that his book is written
without any method ; but Dr Cave thinks this judge¬
ment too severe, and that Arnobius wants neither ele¬
gance nor order in his composition. Vossius styles him
the Varro of the ecclesiastical writers. Du Pin observes
that his work is written in a manner worthy of a pro¬
fessor of rhetoric : the turn of his sentiments is very
oratorical; but his style is a little African, his expres¬
sions being harsh and inelegant. We have several edi¬
tions of this work of Arnobius against the Gentiles,
one published at Rome in 1542, at Basil in 1546 and
1560, at Paris in 1570, at Antwerp in 1582, and one
at Hamburgh in 1610, with notes by Gebhard El-
menhostius, besides many others. He wrote also a
piece entitled De Rhetoricce Institutione ; but this is not
extant.
ARNOLD, of Brescia, in Italy, distinguished him¬
self by being the founder of a sect which opposed the
wealth and power of the Roman clergy. He went in¬
to France, where he studied under the celebrated Peter
Abelard. Upon his return to Italy, he put on the
habit of a monk, and opened his invectives in the streets
of Brescia. The people crowded round him. He
told them he was sent to reform abuses, to pull down
the proud and to exalt the humble. He then pointed
his declamation against the bishops, against the clergy,
against the monks, and finally against the Roman pon¬
tiff himself: to the laity only he was indulgent.
Churchmen, said he, who hold benefices, bishops who
have domains, and monks that have possessions, will all
be damned. His hearers shouted approbation. These
things, continued he, belong to the prince j he may
give them to whom he pleases, but he must give them
to the laity. It is on their tithes, and the voluntary
contributions
A R N [ 679 ] A R N
Arnold, contributions of the people, that those sons of God
must live : they must be frugal, continent, and mor¬
tified.
The church of Brescia was soon thrown into the
greatest confusion, and the people, already prejudiced
against their ministers, threatened to overturn their al¬
tars. The sacred writings he urged in support of his
assertion, and from them he denounced the vengeance
of heaven against the violators of the law. Indeed,
nothing could be more glaringly oft'ensive than the
ostentatious parade of the bishops and great abbots,
and the soft and licentious lives of the monks and
clergy.
In 1139 was celebrated a grand council at Rome.
Arnold was cited-to appear before it. His accusers
were the bishop of Brescia, and many others, whom
he had ridiculed and insulted. Nor from his judges
could he look for much indulgence. He was found
guilty, and sentenced to perpetual silence. Upon this
he left Italy, crossed the Alps, and found a refuge in
Zurich.
Though Arnold had quitted Italy, yet had his opi¬
nions taken deep root, and Rome itself was infected
by them. Irritated by the conduct of their master
Innocent II. the Roman people assembled in the capi-
tol. It was proposed that the power of the pontiff,
which they called exorbitant, should be restrained :
this was carried : then suddenly, inspired as it were
by the genius of the place, they moved that the se¬
nate, which for years had been abolished, should be re¬
stored. The proposition was received with the loudest
acclamations. Innocent in vain opposed the bold de¬
sign j there was a magic in it which spread irresistibly,
and for a moment seemed to rouse the fallen spirit of
the nation. The pope viewed with horror the reverse
of fortune which threatened the tiara 5 to be shorn of
his mighty power, and to become the mere shepherd
of the Christian people, was a thought too afflicting:
he fell sick and died.
Under his two immediate successors Celestin and Lu¬
cius, whose reigns were but of a few months, the Ro¬
mans pursued their darling object. They waited on
the latter, and, in an imperious tone, demanded the
restitution of all the honours and civil rights which
had been usurped from the people. The prince of the
senate, said they, whom we have chosen, will best ad¬
minister the important trust; the tithes and offerings
of the faithful will sufficiently answer all the exigencies
of your holiness: It was thus that our ancient bishops
lived. Lucius survived this event but a few days. His
successor was Eugenius III. the friend and disciple of
the renowned Bernard. The night before his conse¬
cration the senators assembled, and it was agreed, that
either he should solemnly confirm all their proceedings,
or they would annul his election. This resolution was
notified to him. He called together his friends j and
it was their advice, that he should neither accede to the
extravagant demands, nor expose himself, by a refusal,
to the fury of the populace. He therefore silently
withdrew from Rome, and retired to a neighbouring
fortress. Here the ceremony of his consecration was
performed.
Arnold, who in banishment had contemplated the
effects of his admonitions on the minds of the Romans,
and the success which seemed to follow their exertions,
was now informed that the pope had retired, and the Arnold.
gates of the capital were open to receive him: it1   v—
was likewise suggested to him, that his presence was
more than ever necessary, to give energy to their re¬
solves, form to their plans, and stability to their under¬
takings. Arnold took fire at the news •, an unusual
swell of enthusiasm filled his breast •, and he fancied
that, like Junius Brutus, he was called at once to give
liberty to Rome. At his appearance a new stream of
vigour animated the citizens \ they called him their
friend and deliverer. The Brescian walked amongst
them; his deportment was humble, his countenance
emaciated, his address afiable, and he spoke to them
of moderation, submission, of obedience. With the
nobles and new senators he held another language \
though to them also he was mild and diffident, speak¬
ing much of virtue and of respect for religion and the
laws. But no sooner was he sensible of his own real
influence, and saw the length to which the revolters
had already carried their designs, than he threw aside
the mask, and appeared in his own character, daring,
impetuous, self-sufficient, vain. He harangued the
people: he talked of their forefathers the ancient Ro¬
mans, who, by the wisdom of their senate and the va¬
lour of their armies, had conquered nations and sub¬
dued the earth. He dwelt on the names and the
achievements of the Bruti, the Gracchi, and the Sci-
pios ; and of these men, said he, are you not the chil¬
dren P He advised, that the capitol be instantly repair¬
ed ; that the equestrian order he restored; that the
people have their tribunes ; that dignity attend the se¬
nate ; that the laws, which had been silent and ne¬
glected, be revived in all their vigour. He spoke of
the pope as of a deposed and banished tyrant: “ But
should you again be disposed (continued he) to admit
him within these walls ; first fix your own rights and
determine his. He is but your bishop : let him there¬
fore have his spiritual jurisdiction. The government
of Rome, its civil establishments, and its territories, be¬
long to you. These you will keep if you have the
spirit of men and the hearts of Romans.” Fired by
this harangue, the people, headed by the most disaf¬
fected of the nobles, publicly attacked the few cardi¬
nals and churchmen who remained in the city ; they
set fire to the palaces ; and they compelled the citizens
to swear obedience to the new government. Moderate
men, who saw the folly of the attempt, were shocked
at these excesses of popular phrenzy ; but it was in vain
to oppose the torrent : they submitted, looking forward
with some curiosity to the termination of an event
which had begun in extravagance, and must end in dis¬
appointment.
Eugenius till now had viewed, with some concern,
the wild derangement of his people : but when it seem¬
ed that their eyes opened to their own excesses, he
could be inactive no longer. He excommunicated the
ringleaders of the faction ; and at the head of his
troops, who were chiefly composed of Tiburtini, a
people always hostile to the Romans, he marched
against the enemy. His friends within the walls, who
were numerous, co-operated with his designs, and in
a few days overtures for peace were made to the pon¬
tiff1. He acceded to them, but on condition that they
should annul the arrangements they had made, and if
they would have senators, that they should acknowledge
A R N [ 680 ] A R N
ArnoW all their power was from him. The people were satis-
II fied, and they threw open the gates, through which
AraoMus. Eugenius entered, amid the acclamations ol a fawn-
ing and inconstant multitude. Before this event Ar¬
nold had retired ; but he left behind him many friends
strongly attached to his person and principles. Of him¬
self we hear little more till the reign of Adrian our
countryman ; when, on account of fresh tumults, he
and his adherents were excommunicated, and liome
Was threatened with an interdict unless they expelled
the whole party from their walls. This they did. The
Arnoldists retired with their champion into Tuscany,
where he was received as a prophet and honoured as a
saint. His enemies, however, prevailed j he was made
prisoner, and conducted under a strong escort to
liome. In vain was great interest made to save his
life , he was condemned and executed, and his ashes
thrown into the Tiber, lest the people should collect
his remains and venerate them as the relicks of a saint¬
ed martyr.
“ Such was Arnold of Brescia ; a man (says Mr
* Mist, of Berington *), whose character, whose principles, and
the lives of w|lose views, we perhaps should he disposed to admire,
stndHeloua ^eea recol'ded by unprejudiced historians,
and not brought down to us drawn in the blackest co¬
lours which party, higotted zeal, and enthusiasm, could
lay on. He was rash, misjudging, and intemperate,
or never would he have engaged in so unequal a con¬
test. The view of such a phenomenon in the 12th
century excites a pleasing admiration. To attack the
Roman pontiff and his clergy in the very centre of
their power, required a more than common share of
fortitude : to adopt a settled scheme of restoring to
its pristine glory the republic of Rome, demanded a
stretch of thought comprehensive and enterprising;
and to forego the ease and indulgence of a dissipated
age, for the reformation of manners and the suppres¬
sion of what he thought usurped dominion, argued a
character of mind disinterested, generous, and benevo¬
lent. But, Arnold, like other reformers, went too far j
and passion soon vitiated undertakings which were be¬
gun perhaps with motives the most laudable.—The
readiness with which the Roman people embraced this
plan of lowering the jurisdiction of the pontiff, and re¬
straining it within those bounds which the true spirit
of Christianity had fixed, at once shows that they could
reason justly, and that they considered the unbounded
sway of the triple crown, to which reluctantly they
submitted, as an assumed prerogative, to which violence
or misconstruction, and not Christian right, had given
efficacy.”
ARNOLDTSTS, in church history, a sect so called
from their leader Arnold of Brescia. See the preced¬
ing article.
ARNOLDUS, Gothofredus, pastor and inspector
of the churches of Perleberg, and historiographer to
the king of Prussia, was horn at Annaburg in the
mountains of Misnia in 1666. He was a zealous defend¬
er of the Pietists, a sect among the German Protestants,
and composed a great number of religious works ; par¬
ticularly an Ecclesiastical History, which exposed him to
the resentment of the divines j and another giving an
account of the doctrines and manners from the first
ages, in which he frequently animadverts upon Cave’s
Primitive Christianity. He died in 1714. Various are
the opinions concerning Arnoldus in Germany j some
of his own countrymen and profession extolling him to
the skies as a saint of the last century, and setting an
inestimable value upon his works j while others pro¬
nounce damnation upon him as an arch-heretic, and
condemn his writings as heterodox.
ARNON, in Ancient Geography, a brook running
between the borders of the Moabites and Ammonites
on the other side Jordan (Moses, Joshua) : Josephus
calls it a river rising on tlie borders of Arabia, and at
length falling into the Head sea. It is also called the
river of Gad, as appears 2 Sam. xxv. 5. compared with
2 Kings x. 33.
ARNOT. See Bunium, Botany Index.
ARNOTTO, the same with Anotta. See Anot-
TA and Bixa, Botany Index.
ARNSTADE, a town of Germany, in Thuringia,
on the river Gera. E. Long. 11. 3. N. Lat. 50. 54.
ARNULPH, or Ernulph, bishop of Rochester in
the reign of Henry I. He was born in France, where
he was some time a monk of St Lucian de Beauvais.
The monks led most irregular lives in this monastery j
for which reason he resolved to quit it, but fiist took
the advice of Lanfranc archbishop of Canterbury, under
whom he had studied in the abbey of Bee, when Lan¬
franc was prior of that monastery. This prelate invit¬
ed him over to England, and placed him in the mona¬
stery of Canterbury, where he lived a private monk till
Lanfranc’s death. When Anselm came to the archi-
episcopal see, Arnulph was made prior of the mona¬
stery of Canterbury, and afterwards abbot of Peterbo¬
rough. In 1115, he was consecrated bishop of Ro¬
chester, which see he held nine years, and died in
March 11 24, aged 84.
Arnulph wrote, 1. A piece in Latin concerning the
foundation, endowment, charters, laws, and other things
relating to the church of Rochester : it is generally
known by the title of Textus Rojfensis, and is preserved
in the archives of the cathedral church of Rochester.
2. An Epistle in Answer to some Questions of Lam¬
bert abbot of Munster j and 3. An Epistle on Incestu¬
ous Marriage.
ARNUS, now Arno, a very rapid river of Tuscany,
which it divides, and in its course washes Florence and
Pisa; rising in the Apennines, to the east of Florence,
near a village called S. Maria della Gratie, on the bor¬
ders of Romagna, 15 miles to the west of the sources
of the Tiber j and then turning southwards towards
Arretium, it is there increased by the lakes of the Cla-
nis ; after which it runs eastward, dividing Florence
into two parts, and at length washing Pisa, falls eight
miles below it into the Tuscan sea.
ARNWAY, John, a clergyman distinguished by
his benevolence and loyalty to King Charles I. was de¬
scended from a very good family in the county of Sa¬
lop, from which he inherited a considerable estate. He
was educated at Oxford ; and, having received holy or¬
ders, obtained the rectories of Hodnet and Ightfield,
where he distinguished himself by his piety and exem¬
plary charity: for it was his custom to clothe annually
12 poor people, and every Sunday to entertain as many
at his table, not only plentifully, but with intimacy
and respect. The civil war breaking out, he preached
against rebellion, and raised and clothed eight trooper*
for the service of King Charles I. upon which his house
was
]
A R R
ARP [ 68t
\rinvay was Pandered by the parliament’s army. He then
|| went to Oxford to serve the king in person, which sub'
Arpagius. jected him to a new train of misfortunes : for his estate
Was soon after sequestrated, and himself imprisoned till
the king’s death *, after which he went to the Hague,
where he published, I. The Tablet, or the Moderation
of Charles I. the Martyr; and, 2. An Alarm to the
Subjects of England. He at last went to Virginia,
where he died in 1653.
AROBE. See Arrobas.
AROLEO, an American weight, equal to 25 of our
pounds.
AROMA PHILOSOPHORUM, denotes either safiron,
or the aroph of Paracelsus j as aroma germanicum de¬
notes elecampane. See Aroppi.
AROMATA, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Lydia, famous for its generous wines $ and hence the
appellation, (Strabo). Also the name of a trading town
and promontory of Ethiopia, at the termination of the
Sinus Avalites of the Red sea, (Arrian).
AROMATIC, an appellation given to such plants
as yield a brisk fragrant smell, and a warm taste ; as
all kinds of spices, &c. See Materia Medica.
ARONA, a town of Italy, in the duchy of Milan,
with a stroiYg castle. It stands on the lake Maggiore.
■ E. Long. 8. 25. N. Lat. 45. 41.
ARONCHES, a town of Portugal, in Aientejo,
on the confines of Spain, seated on the river Caro. It
is well fortified, and has about 500 inhabitants. W.
Long. 5. 16. N. Lat. 14. 39.
AROOL, a town of the empire of Russia, in the
Ukraine, seated on the river Occa. E. Long. 38. 15.
N. Lat. 51. 48.
AROPH, a contraction of aroma philosophorum ; a
name given to saffron.
Aroph Paracelsi, a name given to a kind of chemi¬
cal flowers, probably of the same nature with the Ens
Veneris, elegantly prepared by sublimation from equal
quantities of lapis haematites and sal ammoniac.
Aroph is also a term frequently used by Paracelsus
in a sense synonymous with lithontriptic.
AROSE AY, a town of the East Indies, on the coast
of the island of Madura, near Java. E. Long. 14. 30.
N. Lat. 9. 30.
AROURA, a Grecian measure of 50 feet. It was
more frequently used for a square measure of half the
plethron. The Egyptian aroura was the square of 100
feet.
ARPAD, in Ancient Geography, is thought to have
been a city of Syria. It was always placed with Ha¬
math, (2 Kings xvili. 34. xix. 13. Isaiah x. 9. xxxvi,
19, xxxvii. 13. Jerem. xlix. 25.) Sennacherib boasts
of having reduced Arpad and Hamath, or of having
destroyed the gods of these two places. Hamath is
known to be the same with Emesa $ and it is thought
that Arpad is the same with Arad or Arvad, as it is
sometimes called in Hebrew. See Arad.
ARPAGIUS, or Harpagius, among the ancients,
a person who died in the cradle, at least in early youth.
The word Is formed from the Greek k^iret^a), I snatch.
The Romans made no funerals for their arpagn. They
neither burnt their bodies, nor made tombs, monu¬
ments, or epitaphs for them j which occasioned Juve¬
nal to say,
Vol. II. Part II. f
 Terra clauditur infans
Et minor igne rogi.
In after times it became the custom to burn such as had
lived to the age of 40 days, and had cut any teeth ; and
these they called Aqttxktoi or AgTrasy^esw, q. d. rapti,
ravished. The usage seems to have been borrowed
from the Greeks 5 among whom, Eustathius assures us,
it was the custom never to bury their children either
by night or full day, but at the first appearance of the
morning j and that they did not call their departure by
the name of death, but by a softer appellation,
«g7r*y)(, importing that they were ravished by Aurora,
or taken away to her embraces.
ARPENT, signifies an acre or furlong of ground ;
and according to the old French account in Doomsday-
book, 100 perches make an arpent. The most ordinary
acre, called Varpent de France, is 100 perches square :
but some account it but half an acre.
ARPHAXAD, the son of Shem and father of Sa-
lab. Arphaxad was born in the year of the world
1658, a year after the deluge, and died in the year of
the world 2096, at the age of 438 years, (Gen. xi. 12.
&c.).
ARPT. See Argos Hippium.
ARP1NAS, or Arpino, Joseph Caesar, a famous
painter, born in the year 1560, at the castle of Arpi-
nas, in the kingdom of Naples. He lived in great in¬
timacy with Pope Clement VIII. who conferred upon
him the honour of knighthood, and bestowed on him
many other marks of his friendship. In the year 1600,
he went to Paris with Cardinal Aldobrandin, who was
sent legate to the French court on the marriage of
Henry IV. with Mary of Medicis. His Christian ma-
jesty gave Arpinas many considerable presents, and
created him a knight of St Michael. The colouring of
this painter is thought to be cold and inanimate 5 yet
there is spirit in his designs, and his compositions have
somewhat of fire and elevation. The touches of his
pencil being free and bold, give therefore pleasure to
connoisseurs in painting : but they are generally incor¬
rect. What he painted of the Roman history is the
most esteemed of all his works. T.he following pieces
of this master were in the late royal collection of I ranee,
viz. the Nativity of our Saviour, Diana and Acteon,
the Rape of Europa, and a Susanna. He died at Rome
in 1640.
ARPINUM, a town of the Volsci, a little to the
east of the confluence of the rivers Liris and Fibrenus,
in the Terra di Lavora 5 now decayed, and called Am
pino. It was the native place of Cicero, and of Caius
Marius, (Sallust).
ARQUA, a. town of Italy, in the Paduan, and ter¬
ritory of Venice, remarkable for the tomb of Petrarch.
E. Long. 11. 43. N. Lat. 45. 43.
ARQUEBUS. See Harquebus.
ARQUES, a town of Normandy, now the depart¬
ment of the Lower Seine, in France, seated on a small
river of the same name. E. Long. 1. 3®' N. Lat. 49. 54.
ARRACHEE, in Heraldry, a term applied to the
representations of plants torn up by the roots.
ARRACK. See Arack.
ARRAGON, a province of Spain, bounded 011 the
north by the Pyrenean mountains, which separate it
4 R from
Arpagius
1!'
Arragon.
ARB [ 682 ] A R ' R
from France j on the west by Navarre and the two
Castiles $ on the south, by Valencia 5 and on the east,
by Catalonia. It is in length about 180 miles, and in
breadth 149 •, but the land is mountainous, dry, sandy
or stony, badly cultivated, and worse peopled. How¬
ever it does not want rivers } for besides the Ebro,
which crosses it in the middle, there are the Xalo, the
Cinea, the Galego, and the Arragon. The air is pure
and wholesome ; and there are mines of iron, and some
say of gold. The most fertile parts are about the ri¬
vers : for there the land produces corn, wine, oil, flax,
hemp, various fruits, and a small quantity of saffron,
besides large flocks of sheep, and plenty of game in the
woods.
The Arragonese have the character of being bold,
courageous^ and well bred j but positive in their opi¬
nions, and bigotted in their religion. These were the
lirst of the Spaniards that threw off the Moorish yoke.
Saragossa is the capital of this province 5 and the other
chief towns are Balbastro, Jaca, Sarazona, Haesca, Ca-
latajud, Albarrazin, Trevel, Haroca, and Boria.
ARRAIGNMENT, in Law, the arraigning or set¬
ting a thing in order, as a person is said to arraign
a writ of novel disseisin, who prepares and fits it for
trial.
Arraignment is most properly used to call a person
to answer in form of law upon an indictment, &c.
When brought to the bar, the criminal is called up¬
on by name to hold up his hand ; which though it
may seem a trifling circumstance, yet is of this im¬
portance, that by the holding up of Ins hand constat de
persona, and he owns himself to be of that name by
which he is called. However it is not an indispensable
ceremony; for being calculated merely for the pur¬
pose of identifying the person, any other acknowledge¬
ment will answer the purpose as well: therefore, if the
prisoner obstinately and contemptuously refuses to hold
up his hand, but confesses he is the person named, it is
fully sufficient.
Then the indictment is to be read to him distinctly
in the English tongue (which was lawr, even while all
other proceedings were in Latin), that he may fully
understand his charge. After which it is to be demand¬
ed of him, whether he be guilty of the crime whereof
he stands indicted, or not guilty ?
When a criminal is arraigned he either stands mute,
or confesses the fact, or else he pleads to the indict¬
ment.
1. If he says nothing, the court ought ex officio to
impannel a jury to inquire whether he stands obstinately
mute, or whether he be dumb ex visitatione Dei. If
the latter appears to be the case, the judges of the
court (who are to be of counsel for the prisoner, and
to see that he hath law and justice) shall proceed to the
trial, and examine all points as if he had pleaded not
guilty. But whether judgment of death can be given
against such a prisoner, who hath never pleaded, and
can say nothing in arrest of judgment, is a point yet
undetermined.
If he be found to be obstinately mute (which a pri¬
soner hath been held to be that hath cut his own
tongue), then, if it be on an indictment of high treason,
it hath long been clearly settled, that standing mute is’
equivalent to a conviction, and he shall receive the same
judgment and execution.
The English judgment of penance for standing mute
was fas follows : That the prisoner be remanded to the
prison from whence he came, and put into a low dark
chamber ; and there be laid on his back, on the bare
floor, naked, unless where decency forbids 5 that there
be placed upon his body as great a weight of iron as he
could hear, and more ; that he have no sustenance, save
only, on the first day, three morsels of the worst bread 5
and, on the second day, three draughts of standing wa¬
ter that should be nearest to the prison door ; and in
this situation this should be alternately his daily diet,
till he died, or, as anciently the judgment ran, ti/l he
answered.
It hath been doubted whether this punishment sub¬
sisted at the common law, or was introduced in conse¬
quence of the statute Westm. I. 3 Edw. I. c. 12. which
seems to be the better opinion. For not a word of it
is mentioned in Glanvil or Bracton, or in any ancient
author, case, or record (that hath yet been produced),
previous to the reign of Edward I.: but there are in¬
stances on record in the reign of Henry III. where
persons accused of felony, and standing mute, were
tried in a particular manner, by two successive juries
and convicted : and it is asserted by the judges in
8 Henry IV. that, by the common law before the sta¬
tute, standing mute on an appeal amounted to a con¬
viction of the felony. This statute of Edward I. di¬
rects such persons, “ as will not put themselves upon
inquests of felonies before the judges at the suit of the
king, to be put into hard and strong prison (soient
mys en la prisons fort et dure} as those which refuse to
be at the common laiv of the land.” And, immedi¬
ately after this statute, the form ol the judgment ap¬
pears in F leta and Britton to have been only a very
strait confinement in prison, with hardly any degree of
sustenance j but no weight is directed to be laid up¬
on the body, so as to hasten the death of the miserable
sufferer : and indeed any surcharge of punishment on
persons adjudged to penance, so as to shorten their
lives, is reckoned by Horne in the Mirror as a species
of criminal homicide. It also clearly appears by a
record of 31 Edw. III. that the prisoner might then
possibly subsist for 40 days under this lingering punish¬
ment. It is therefore imagined that the practice of
loading him with weights, or, as it is usually called,
pressing him to death, was gradually introduced between
31 Ed ward III. and 8 Henry IV. at which last period
it first appears upon the books $ being intended as a
species of mercy to the delinquent, by delivering him
the sooner from his torment : and hence it is also pro¬
bable, that the duration of the penance was then first
altered j and instead of continuing till he answered, it
was directly to continue till he died, which must very
soon happen under an enormous pressure.
T he uncertainty of its original, the doubts that ivere
conceived of its legality, and the repugnance of its
theory (for it rarely was carried into practice) to the
humanity ol the laws of England, all concurred to re¬
quire a legislative abolition of this cruel process, and a
restitution of the ancient common law ; whereby the
standing mute in felony, as well as in treason and in
trespass, amounted to a confession of the charge.
2. If the prisoner make a simple and plain confession,
the court hath nothing to do but to award judgment:
but it is usually very backward in receiving and re¬
cording
3
Arraign¬
ment,
Arran.
ARE [683
cording such confession, out of tenderness to the life of
the subject •> and will generally advise the prisoner to
retract it, and,
3. Plead to the indictment; as to which, see the ar¬
ticle Plea of Indictment.
ARRAN, an island of Scotland, in the frith of
Clyde, between Kintyre and Cunningham. Of this
] ARE
“ Arran is. of great extent, being 23 miles from
Sgreadan Point north to Beinnean south ; and the
number ot inhabitants is about 7000, who chiefly in¬
habit the coasts; the far greater part of the country
being uninhabited by reason of the vast and barren
mountains. Here are only two parishes, Kilbride and
Kilmorie j with a sort of chapel of ease to each, found-
kland the best description we have is that given by Mr ed in the last century, in the golden age of this island,'
Pennant in his lour through Scotland, vol. n. ^2— when it vyas blessed with Anne duchess of Hamilton,
[84
“ Arran, or properly Arr-inn, or, ‘ the island of
mountains,’ seems not to have been noticed by the an¬
cients, notwithstanding it must have been known to
the Romans, whose navy, from the time of Agricola,
had its station in the Glottce Estuarium, or the frith of
Clyde. Camden, indeed, makes this island the Glotta
of Antonine, but no such name occurs in his Itinerary :
it was therefore bestowed on Arran by some of his com¬
mentators. By the immense cairns, the vast monumen¬
tal stones, and many relicks of Hruidism, this island must
have been considerable in very ancient times. Here are
still traditions of the hero Fingal, or Fin Mac Coul, who
is supposed here to have enjoyed the pleasures, of the
chase ; and many places retain his name : but I can
discover nothing but oral history that relates to the
island till the time of Magnus the Barefooted, the
Norwegian victor, who probably included Arran in
his conquests of Kintyre. If he did not conquer that
island, it was certainly included among those that Do¬
nald Bane was to cede ; for it appears that Acho, one
of the successors of Magnus, in 1263, laid claim to
Arran, Bute, and the Cumbrays, in consequence of that
promise : the two first he subdued, but the defeat he
met with at Largs soon obliged him to give up his con¬
quests. Arran was the property of the crown. Ro¬
bert Bruce retired thither during his distresses, and
met with protection from his faithful vassals. Numbers
of them followed his fortunes ; and after the battle of
Bannockburn, he rewarded several, such as the Mac-
cooks, Mackinnons, Macbrides, and Maclouis, or Ful¬
lertons, with different charters of lands in their native
country. All these are now absorbed by this great
family, except the I ullertons, and a Stewart, descended
from a son of Robert III. who gave him a settlement
here. In the time of the Dean of the isles, his descen¬
dant possessed Castle Douan ; and he and his b/uid, says
the Dean, are the best men in that countrey. About the
year 1334> island appears to have formed part of
the estate of Robert Stewart, great steward of Scotland,
afterwards Robert II. At that time they took arms
to support the cause of their master ; who afterwards, in
reward, not only granted at their request an immunity
from their annual tribute of corn, but added several
new privileges, and a donative to all the inhabitants
that were present. In 1456, the whole island was ra¬
vaged by Donald earl of Ross and lord of the Isles. At
that period, it was still the property of James II. j but
in the reign of his successor James III. when that mo¬
narch matched his sister to Thomas lord Boyd, he cre¬
ated him eai’l of Arran, and gave him the island as a
portion. Soon after, on the disgrace of that family, he
caused the countess to be divorced from her unfortunate
husband ; and bestowed both the lady and island on Sir
James Hamilton, in whose family it continues to this
time, a very few farms excepted.
whose amiable disposition and humane attention to the
welfare of Arran render at this distant time her me¬
mory dear to every inhabitant. The principal moun¬
tains of Arran are, Goatfield, or Gaoilbheinn, or “ the
mountain of the winds,” of a height equal to most of
the Scottish Alps, composed of immense piles of moor-
stone, in form of wool packs, clothed only with lichens
and mosses, inhabited by eagles and ptarmigans j Bein-
bharrain, or “ the sharp-pointed 5” Ceum-na-caillich,
“ the step of the carline or old hagand Grianan-
Athol, that yields to none in ruggedness. The lakes
are, Loch-jorsa, where salmon come to spawn j Loch-
tana j Loch-nah-jura, on the top of a high hill \ Loch-
mhachrai ; and Loch-knoc-a-charbeil, full of large eels.
The chief rivers are, Abhan-mhor, Moina mhor, Slon-
drai-machrei, and Jorsa ; the two last remarkable for
the abundance of salmon.
“ The quadrupeds are very few j only otters, wild
cats, shrew mice, rabbits, and bats : the stags, which
used to abound, are now reduced to about a dozen.
The birds are, eagles, hooded crows, wild pigeons,
stares, black game, grous, ptarmigans, daws, green
plovers, and curlews. It may be remarked, that the
partridge at present inhabits this island, a proof of the
advancement of agriculture.
“ The climate is very severe : for besides the violence
of wind, the cold is very rigorous ; and snow lay here
in the valleys for 13 weeks of the last winter. In sum¬
mer the air is remarkably salubrious ; and many inva¬
lids resort here on that account, and to drink the whey
of goats milk.
“The principal disease here is the pleurisy : small¬
pox', measles, and chincough, visit the island once in
seven or eight years. The practice of bleeding twice
every year seems to have been intended as a preven¬
tive against the pleurisy j but it is now performed with
the utmost regularity at spring and fall. The duke of
Hamilton keeps a surgeon in pay ; who at those sea¬
sons makes a tour of the island. On notice of his ap¬
proach, the inhabitants of each farm assemble in the
open air ; extend their arms; and are bled into a hole
made in the ground, the common receptacle of the
vital fluid. In burning fevers, a tea of wood sorrel is
used with success, to allay the heat. An infusion of
ramsons, or allium ursinum, in brandy, is esteemed here
a good remedy for the gravel.
“ The men are strong, tall, and well made ; all speak
the Erse language, but the ancient habit is entirely laid
aside. Their diet is chiefly potatoes and meal ; and
during winter, some dried mutton or goat is added to
their hard fare. A deep dejection appears in general
though the countenances of all ; no time can be spared
for amusement of any kind ; the whole being given
for procuring the means of paying their rent, of laying
in their fuel, or getting a scanty pittance of meat and
clothing.
4R2 “The
ARE [ 684 ] 'ARB
Atran. “ Tlie leases of farms are 19 years. The succeeding
‘i tenants generally find the ground little better than a
caput morluum; and for this reason : Should they at
the expiration of the lease leave the lands in a good
state, some avaricious neighbours would have the pre¬
ference in the next setting, by offering a price more
than the person who had expended part of his substance
in enriching the farm could possibly do. This induces
them to leave it in the original state. The method of
setting a farm is very singular: each is commonly pos¬
sessed by a number of small tenants j thus a farm of
40I. a-year is occupied by 18 different people, who
by their leases are bound, conjunctly and severally, for
the payment of the rent to the proprietor. These live
in the farm in houses clustered together, so that each
farm appears like a little village. The tenants annually
divide the arable land by lot } each has his ridge of
land, to which he puts his mark, such as he would do
to any writing; and this species of farm is called run-
rig, (i. e.) ridge. They join in ploughing ; every one
keeps a horse or more ; and the number of those ani¬
mals consumes so much corn, as often to occasion a scar¬
city ; the corn and pease raised being (much of it) de¬
signed for their subsistence, and that of the cattle, du¬
ring the long winter. The pasture and moor land an¬
nexed to the farm is common to all the possessors. All
the farms are open. Enclosures of any form, except in
two or three places, are quite unknown : so that there
must be a great loss of time in preserving their corn,
&c. from trespass. The usual manure is sea-plants,
coral and shells. The run rig farms are now discou¬
raged : but since the tenements are set by roup or
auction, and advanced by an unnatural force to above
double the old rent, without any allowance for enclos¬
ing, any example set in agriculture, any security of te¬
nure by lengthening the leases, affairs will turn retro¬
grade, and the farms relapse into their old state of rude¬
ness ; migration will increase (for it has begun), and
the rents be reduced even below their former value :
the late rents were scarce 1200I. a-year; the expected
rents 3000I.
“ The produce of the island is oats ; of which about
5000 bolls, each equal to nine Winchester bushels, are
sown, 500 of beans, a few pease ; and above rooo bolls
of potatoes are annually set: notwithstanding this, 500
bolls of oat meal are annually imported, to subsist the
natives.
“ The live stock of the island is 3183 milch cows;
2000 cattle, from one to three years old ; 1058 horses ;
15O0 sheep; and 500 goats : many of the two last are
killed at Michaelmas, and dried for winter provision,
or sold at Greenock. The cattle are sold from 40s. to
50s. per head, which brings into the island about
1200I. per annum : I think that the sale of horses also
brings in about 300I. Hogs were introduced here on¬
ly two years ago. The herring fishery round the island
brings in 300I. the sale of herring nets look and that
of thread about 300I. for a good deal of flax is sown
here. These are the exports of the island ; but the
money that goes out for mere necessaries is a melan¬
choly drawback.
“ The women manufacture the wool for the clothing
of their families ; they set the potatoes and dress and
spin the flax. They make butter for exportation, and
cheese for their own use.
2
“ The inhabitants in general are sober, religious, ^n.an
and industrious ; great part of the summer is employ- |
ed in getting peat for fuel, the only kind in use here ; Arras,
or in building or repairing their houses, for the badness T—
of the materials requires annual repairs: before and
after harvest, they are busied in the herring fishery; and
during winter the men make their herring nets; while
the women are employed in spinning their linen and
woollen yarn. The light they often use is that of
lamps. From the beginning of February to the end
of May, if the weather permits, they are engaged in
labouring their ground : in autumn they burn a great
quantity of fern to make kelp. So that, excepting at
new-year’s day, at marriages, or at the two or three fairs
in that island, they have no leisure for any amusements:
no wonder then at their depression of spirits.
“ Arran forms part of the county of Bute, and is
subject to the same sort of government: but, besides,
justice is administered at the baron’s bailie-court, who
has power to fine as high as 20s.; can decide in mat¬
ters of property not exceeding 40s.; can imprison for
a month ; and put delinquents into the stocks for three
hours, but that only during day-time. In this island
there are many of those rude antiquities or monuments
called cairns, druidical circles, &c. See Cairns. See
also Buteshire, Supplement.
ARRANGEMENT, or Rangement, the disposi¬
tion of the parts of a whole in a certain order.
The modern philosophy shows us, that the diversity
of the colours of bodies depends entirely on the situa¬
tion and arrangement of the parts, which reflect the
light differently ; the diversity of tastes and smells on
the different arrangements of the pores, which render
them differently sensible ; and the general diversity of
bodies on the different arrangement of their parts. The
happy arrangement of words makes one of the greatest
beauties of discourse.
ARRAS, a large town in France, capital of the de¬
partment of Pas de Calais. It is seated on a mountain ;
and the parts about it are full of quarries, where they
get stone for building. It is divided into tw7o parts,
the town and the city. The abbot of St Vedast is lord
of the town, and the bishop of Arras of the city, which
is the least part. They are divided by a strong wall,
a large fosse, and the little river Chrinchron, which
100 paces below falls into the Scarp. They are both
well fortified, enclosed by high ramparts, and by double
deep fosses, which in several places are cut out of the
rock. It has four gates, and a strong citadel with five
bastions, and contained 18,872 inhabitants in 1815.
The most remarkable places are, the great square
where the principal market is kept; this is full of
fine buildings, with piazzas all round it like those of
Covent-garden. Not far from this is the lesser mar¬
ket, which contains the town-house, a very noble struc¬
ture, with a high tower covered with a crown, on the
top of which is a brazen lion, which serves lor a vane.
In the midst of this market is the chapel of the Holy
Candle, which the Papists pretend was brought by the
Virgin Mary herself above 600 years ago, when the city
was afflicted with divers diseases, and every one that
touched the candle was cured: it is kept in a silver
shrine. This chapel has a spire steeple, adorned with
several statues. The cathedral church of Notre-Dame
stands in the city: it is a very large Gothic building,
extremely
A R R [ 685 ] A R R
Anas extremely well adorned ; the tower Is very high, and
jj has a fine clock embellished with little figures in bronze,
Arrest, which represent the passion of Jesus Christ ; they pass
—r ' before the bell to strike the hours and half hours. In
this church there is a silver shrine, enriched with pearls
and diamonds, which contains a sort of wool, which
they call manna, that they say fell from heaven in the
time of a great drought, almost 1400 years ago : they
carry it very solemnly in procession when they want
rain. The abbey-church of St Vedast is the greatest
ornament of Arras, it being adorned with a fine steeple,
and seats for the monks of admirable workmanship ;
the pulpit is of brass, fashioned like a tree, supported
by two bears of the same metal, sitting on their hind
legs j there are little bears in different postures coming
to climb up the tree. The chimes are remarkable lor
the different tunes which they play. It is from this
city that the tapestry called arras hangings takes its
denomination. E. Long. 2. 56. N. Lat. 50. 17.
Arras, or Araxes, is also the name of a river of
Georgia, which discharges itself into the Caspian sea.
ARRAY, in Law, the ranking or setting forth ol a
jury, or inquest of men impannelled on a cause.
Battle-ARRAY, the order or disposition of an army,
drawn up with a view to engage the enemy. See
Army.
ARRAYERS, or Arragers, Arraitores, is used
in some ancient statutes, for such officers as had care ot
the soldiers armour, and saw them duly accoutred in
their kinds. In some reigns, commissioners have been
appointed for this purpose. Such were the commission¬
ers of array appointed by King Charles I. in the year
1642.
ARREARS, the remainder of a sum due, or money
remaining in the hands of an accountant. It likewise
signifies the money due for rent, wages, &c. or what
remains unpaid of pensions, taxes, &c.
ARRENTATION, in the forest laws, implies the
licensing the owner of lands in a forest to enclose them
with a low hedge and a small ditch, in consideration of
a yearly rent.
ARREOYS, a secret society of a very singular
kind, in Otaheite. See Supplement.
ARREST, in English Law, (from the French word
arrester, to stop or stay\ is the restraint of a man’s
person, obliging him to be obedient to the law; and is
defined to be the execution of the command of some
court of record or office of justice. Ah arrest is the
beginning of imprisonment ; where a man is first taken,
and restrained of his liberty, by power or colour of a
lawful warrant.
Arrests are either in civil or criminal cases.
I. An arrest in a civil cause is defined to be the ap¬
prehending or restraining one’s person by process in
execution of the command of some court.
An arrest must be by corporal seizing or touching
the defender’s body ; after which the bailiff may jus¬
tify breaking open the house in which he is, to take
him ; otherwise lie has no such power ; but must watch
his opportunity to arrest him. For every man’s house
is looked upon by the law to be his castle of defence
and asylum, wherein he should sufier no violence.
Which principle is carried so far in the civil law, that,
for the most part, not so much as a common citation
or summons, much less an arrest, can be executed upon
a man within his own walls. Peers of the realm, Arrest!
members of parliament, and corporations, are privileged —v—“■
from arrests ; and of course from outlawries. And
against them the process to enforce an appearance must
be by summons and distresszVz/zmte, instead of Sicapias.
Also clerks, attorneys, and all other persons attending
the courts of justice (for attorneys being officers of the
court, are always supposed to be there attending) are
not liable to be arrested by the ordinary process of the
court, but must be sued by bill (called usually a bill of
privilege), as being personally present in court. Cler¬
gymen performing divine service, and not merely stay¬
ing in the chui'ch with a fraudulent design, are for the
time privileged from arrests, by statute 50 Edw. III.
c. 5. and 1 Rich. II. c. 16. ; as likewise members of
convocation actually attending thereon, by statute
8 Hen. VI. c. I. Suitors, witnesses, and other per¬
sons, necessarily attending any courts of record upon
business, are not to be arrested during their actual at¬
tendance, which includes the necessary coming and re¬
turning. Seamen in the king’s service are privileged
from arrests for debts under 20I. (1 Geo. II. c. 14.
and 14 Geo. II. c. 38.) ; and soldiers or marines are
not liable to arrests for a debt of less than 10I.
(30 Geo. II. c. 6. 11.). And no arrest can be made
in the king’s presence, nor within the verge of his
royal palace, nor in anyplace where the king’s justices
are actually sitting. The king hath moreover a special
prerogative (which indeed is very seldom exerted), that
he may by his writ of protection privilege a defendant
from all personal and many real suits, for one year at
a time, and no longer ; in respect of his being engaged
in his service out of the realm. And the king also by
the common law might take his creditor into his pro¬
tection, so that no one might sue or arrest him till the
king’s debt was paid : but by the statute 25 Edw. III.
c. 19. notwithstanding such protection, another credi¬
tor may proceed to judgment against him, with a stay
of execution, till the king’s debt be paid ; unless such
creditor will undertake for the king’s debt, and then he
shall have execution for both. And, lastly, By statute
29 Car. II. c. 7. no arrest can be made, nor process
served, upon a Sunday, except for treason, felony, or
breach of the peace.
2. An arrest in a criminal cause is the apprehending
or restraining one’s person, in order to be forthcoming
to answer an alleged crime. To this arrest all persons
whatsoever are, without distinction, equally liable; and
doors may be broken open to arrest the offender : but
no man is to be arrested, unless charged with such a
crime as will at least justify holding him to bail when
taken. There is this difference also between arrests in
civil and criminal cases, that none shall be arrested for
debt, trespass, or other cause of action, but by virtue
of a precept or commandment out of some court ; but
for treason, felony, or breach of the peace, any man
may arrest with or without warrant or precept. But
the king cannot command any one by word of mouth
to be arrested ; for he must do it by writ, or order of
his courts, according to law : nor may the king arrest
any man for suspicion of treason, or felony, as his sub¬
jects may; because if he doth wrong, the party cannot
have an action against him.
Arrests by private persons are in some cases com¬
manded. Persons present at the committing of a fe¬
lony ,•
Arrest
A R R [ 686 ]
Sony must use their entleavoui-s to apprehend the offend- of Cecrops
under penalty of fine and imprisonment ; and thev
A B K
are also, with the utmost diligence to pursue and endea¬
vour to take all those who shall be guilty thereof out of
their view, upon a hue and cry levied against them. By
the vagrant act, 17 Geo. II. c. 5. every person may ap¬
prehend beggars and vagrants; and every private per¬
son is bound to assist an officer requiring him to appre¬
hend a felon.
In some cases likewise arrests by private persons are
rewarded by law. By the 4 and 5 William and Mary,
c. 8. persons apprehending highwaymen, and prosecut¬
ing them to a conviction, are entitled to a reward of
40!. j and if they are killed m the attempt, their exe¬
cutors, &c. are entitled to the like reward. By the
6 and 7 William III. c. 17. persons apprehending
counteifeiters. and clippers of the coin, and prosecuting
them to conviction, are entitled to 40].
By 5 Ann. c. 31. persons who shall take any one
guilty of burglary, or the felonious breaking and enter¬
ing any house in the daytime, and prosecute them to
conviction, shall receive the sum of 40I. within one
month after such conviction.
With regard to arrests by public officers, as watch¬
men, constables, &c. they are either made by their own
authority, which diflers hut very little from the power
of a private person j or they are made by a warrant from
a justice of peace. See Warrant.
Arrest of Judgment, in Jaw, the assigning just
reason why judgment should not pass : as, Want of no¬
tice of the trial j a material defect in the pleading j
when the record differs from the deed impleaded ;
wuen persons are misnamed 5 where more is given by
tne veroict than is laid in the declaration, &c. This
may be done either in criminal or civil cases.
ARRESTMLN r, in Scots Law, signifies the se¬
curing of a criminal till trial, or till he find caution to
stand trial, in what are called bailable crimes. In civil
cases, it signifies either the detaining of strangers, or
natives in meditationefngw, till they find caution ;Wfcfo
sisti, or the attaching the effects of a stranger in order to
found jurisdiction. But, in the most general accepta¬
tion of the word, it denotes that diligence by which a
creditor detains the goods or effects of his debtor in the
hands of third parties till the debt due to him be either
paid or secured. See Law.
ARRESTO facto super bonis, &c. a writ brought
by a denizen against the goods of aliens found within
this kingdom, as a recompense for goods taken from him
in a foreign country.
ARRESTS, in Farriery, mangy tumours upon a
horse s hinder legs, between the ham and the pa¬
stern. r
ARRETIUM,.(Cicero, Caesar) J Arrhetium, (Pto¬
lemy) ; Urbs Arrhetinorum, (Polybius) ; one of the
twelve ancient towns of Tuscany, near the Amis and
flatus, situated in a pleasant valley. Now Arexzo,
42 miles east of Florence. E. Long. 13. 18. N. Lat!
43- I5-
ARRHABONARII, a sect of Christians, who held
that the eucharist is neither the real flesh or blood of
Christ, nor yet the sign of them ; but only the pledge
or earnest thereof.
ARRHEPHORIA, a feast among the Athenians,
instituted in honour of Minerva, and Herse daughter
Arrow.
The word is composed of ag/pUr, mystery, Arrhepln
and I car'ry ; on account of certain mysterious ria
things which were carried in procession at this solem¬
nity.—-Boys, or, as some say, girls, between seven and
twelve years of age, were the ministers that assisted at
this feast, and were denominated ct^nQ^oi. This feast
was also called tiersiphoria, from the daughter of Ce¬
crops, already mentioned.
ARRIAN, a famous philosopher and historian un¬
der the emperor Hadrian and the two Antonines, was
born at Nicomedia in Bithynia. His great learning
and eloquence procured him the title of The second
Xenophon, and raised him to the most considerable
dignities at Rome, even the consulship itself. We have
four books of his Dissertations upon Epictetus, whose
scholar he had been ; and his History of Alexander the
Great, in seven books, is greatly admired by the best
judges.
ARRIEGE, a department in the south of France,
at the foot of the Pyrenees, and named from a river
which flows through it. I he southern part is covered
with mountains, which afford pasture to great quanti¬
ties of cattle j in the northern parts corn of all kinds,
and vines, are cultivated. There are mines of iron,
copper, silver, lead, and coal. There are a few manu-
factures of cottons and woollens. The superficial ex¬
tent of the department is 529,540 hectares, and its po¬
pulation in 1815 was 222,936. Foix is the chief town.
ARRIERE, the hinder or posterior part of any thing.
Arriere Ban, in the French customs, was a general
proclamation, whereby the king summoned to war all
that held of him, both his vassals, i. e. the noblesse, and
the vassals of his vassals.
Arriere Fee, or Fief, is a fee dependent on a supe¬
rior one. These fees commenced, when the dukes and
counts, rendering their governments hereditary in their
families, distributed to their officers parts of the royal
domains which they found in their respective provinces,
and even permitted those officers to gratify the soldiers
under them in the same manner.
ARROBAS, or Arobas, a weight used in Spain,
Portugal, and the foreign dominions of both. The
arrobas of Portugal, is also called arata, and contains
thirty-two Lisbon pounds j that of Spain contains
twenty-five Spanish pounds. In Peru it is called ar-
ruse.
ARROE, a small island of Denmark, in the Baltic
sea, a little south of the island of Funen. It is eight
miles in length, and about two in breadth j and pro¬
duces corn, aniseed, black cattle, and horses. It has
three parishes, the most considerable of which is Kopin.
It stands at the south side of the island, in the bottom of
a bay, and has a port with some trade. E. Long. 9. 40.
N. Lat. 55. 20.
ARROJO de St Servan, a town of Spain, in Es-
tremadura. W. Long. 5. 20. N. Lat. 38. 40.
ARRONDEE, in Heraldry, a cross, the arms of
which are composed of sections of a circle, not oppo¬
site to each other so as to make the arms bulge out
thicker in one part than another ; but the sections of
each arm lying the same way, so that the arm is every¬
where of an equal thickness, and all of them ter¬
minating at the edge of the escutcheon like the plain
cross.
ARROW, a missive weapon of offence, slender,
pointed,
A R S
Arsinoe.
Arrow pointed, and barbed, to be cast or s!iot with a bow.
|| See Archery.
^ Arrow-Makers, are^called fictchers ; and were for-
merly, as well as bowyers, persons ot great consequence
in the commonwealth.
Arrow-heads and quarrels were to be well boched or
brased, and hardened at the points with steel ; the do¬
ing of which seems to have been the business of the ar¬
row-smith.
ARROw-Head. See Sagittaria, Botany Index.
Arrow-RooI. See Maranta, Botany Index.
ARSACES, otherwise Mithridates, a king of the
Parthians, spoken of in the first book of Maccabees,
xiv. 2. He considerably enlarged the kingdom of
Parthia by his good conduct and valour. See Parthia.
ARSCHIN, in commerce, a long measure used in
China to measure stuffs. Four arschins make three
yards of London.
ARSENAL, a royal or public magazine, or place
appointed for the making and keeping of arms, neces¬
sary either for defence or assault. Some derive this
word from arx, sl fortress ; others from ars, denoting a
machine ; others again from arx and senatus, because
this was the defence of the senate : but the more pro¬
bable opinion derives it from the Arabic darsenaa,
which signifies arsenal.
The arsenal of Venice is the place where the galleys
are built and laid up. The arsenal of Paris is that
where the cannon or great guns are cast.
ARSENIC. See Mineralogy and Chemistry
Index.
ARSENIUS, a deacon of the Roman church, of
great learning and piety. He was pitched upon by
the pope to go to the emperor Theodosius, as tutor to
his son Arcadius. Arsenins arrived at Constantinople
in the year 383- The emperor happening one day to
go into the room where Arsenins was instructing Arca¬
dius, his son was seated, and the preceptor standing ;
at this he wrs exceedingly displeased, took from his son
the imperial ornaments, made Arsenius sit in his place,
and ordered Arcadius for the future to receive his les¬
sons standing uncovered. Arcadius, however, profited
but little by his tutor’s instructions, for some time after
he formed a design of despatching him. The officer to
whom Arcadius had applied for this purpose, divulged
the affair to Arsenius, who retired to the deserts of
Scete, where he passed many years in the exercises of
the most strict and fervent devotion. He died there, at
95 years of age,
ARSHOT, a town of the Austrian Netherlands, si¬
tuated about 14 miles east of the city of Mechlin, in
E. Long. 4. 45. N. Lat. 31. 5.
ARSINOE, in Ancient Geography, a town of E-
gypt, on the west side of the Arabian gulf, near its
extremity, to the south of Hieropolis, (Strabo, Pto¬
lemy) $ called Cleopatris by some. Another Arsinoe,
a town of Cilicia, (Ptolemv) ; and the fifth of that
name in Cilicia, (Stephanus) ; with a road or station
for ships, (Strabo). A third Arsinoe, in the south of
Cyprus, with a port between Citium and Salamis,
(Strabo). A fourth, an inland town of Cyprus, call¬
ed Marium formerly, (Stephanus). A fifth in the
north of Cyprus, between Acamas and Soli, (Strabo) ;
so called from Arsinoe, a queen of Egypt, Cyprus be¬
ing in the hands of the Ptolemies. A sixth Arsinoe,
[ 687 ]
ART
a maritime town of Cyrene, formerly called Tevchira.
A seventh Arsinoe, in the Nemos Arsinoites, to the
west of the Heracleotes, on the western bank of the
Nile, formerly called Crocodilorum Urbs, (Strabo) •,
the name Arsinoe continued under Adrian, (Coin).
Ptolemy calls this Arsinoe an inland metropolis, and
therefore at some distance from the Nile, with a port
called Ploleniais. An eighth Arsinoe, a maritime
town of Lycia j so called by Ptolemy Philadelphus,
after the name of his consort, which did not hold lon<>,
it afterwards recovering its ancient name Patara, (Stra¬
bo). A ninth, a town of the Troglodytae, near the
mouth of the Arabian gulf, which towards Ethiopia is
terminated by a promontory called Hire, (Ptolemy).
This Arsinoe is called Berenice, and the third of that
name in this quarter, with the distinction Epideres;
because situated on a neck of land running out a great
way into the sea.
ARSIS and Thesis, in Music, is a term applied to
compositions in which one part rises and the other
falls.
ARSMART. See Persic aria, Botany Index.
ARSON, in English Law, is the malicious and wil¬
ful burning of the house or outhouse of another man 5
which is felony at common law.
This is an offence of very great malignity, and much
more pernicious to the public than simple theft: be¬
cause, first, it is an offence against that right of habi¬
tation which is acquired by the law of nature as well
as by the laws of society 5 next, because of the terror
and confusion that necessarily attends it j and, lastly,
because in simple theft the thing stolen only changes
its master, but still remains in esse for the benefit of the
public ; whereas, by burning, the very substance is ab¬
solutely destroyed. It is also frequently more destruc¬
tive than murder itself, of which too it is often the
cause : since murder, atrocious as it is, seldom extends
beyond the felonious act designed, whereas fire too fre¬
quently involves in the common calamity persons un¬
known to the incendiary, and not intended to be hurt
by him, and friends as well as enemies.
ARSURA, in ancient customs, a term used for the
melting of gold or silver, either to refine them, or to
examine their value.—The method of doing this is ex¬
plained at large in the Black Book of the Exchequer,
ascribed to Gervaise, in the chapter De officio Mi litis
Argentarii, being in those days of great use, on account
of the various places and different manners in which the
king’s money was paid.
Arsura is also used for the loss or diminution of the
metal in the trial. In this sense, a pound was said tot
ardere denarios, to lose so many pennyweights.
Arsura is also used for the dust and sweepings of
silversmiths, and others, who work in silver, melted
down.
ART is defined by Lord Bacon, a proper disposal
of the things of nature by human thought and experi¬
ence, so as to answer the several purposes of mankind 5
in which sense art stands opposed to nature.
Art is principally used for a system of rules serving
to facilitate the performance of certain actions ; in
which sense it stands opposed to science, or a system of
speculative principles.
Arts are commonly divided into useful or mechanic,
liberal or polite. The former are those wherein the
hand
Arsinoe
Art.
n
A Pi T [ 688 ] ART
AVt0. hand arid body are more concerned than the mind ; of
u"-—v ' which kind are most of those which furnish us with the
necessaries of life, and are popularly known by the name
of trades; as baking, brewing, carpentry, smithery,
weaving, &c.—The latter are such as depend more on
the labour of the mind than that of the hand $ they are
the produce of the imagination, their essence consists
in expression, and their end is pleasure. Of this kind
i are poetry, painting, music, &c.
Origin and Progress of the Arts. Some useful arts must be
nearly coeval with the human race } for food, clothing,
and habitation, even in their original simplicity, require
some art. Many other arts are of such antiquity as to
place the inventors beyond the reach of tradition. Se¬
veral have gradually crept into the world without an in¬
ventor. The busy mind, however, accustomed to a be¬
ginning in things, cannot rest till it finds or imagines
a beginning to every art. The most probable conjec¬
tures of this nature the reader may see in the historical
introductions to the diflerent articles,
progress of In all countries where the people are barbarous and
useful arts, illiterate, the progress of arts is extremely slow. It is
Sketches vouc^e^ by an old French poem, that the virtues of the
Sk. V. loadstone were known in France before the year 1180.
The mariner’s compass was exhibited at Venice anno
1260, by Paulus Venetus, as his own invention. John
Goya of Amalfi was the first who, many years after-
ward, used it in navigation •, and also passed for being
the inventor. Though it was used in China for navi¬
gation long before it was known in Europe, yet to this
day it is not so perfect as in Europe. Instead of sus¬
pending it in order to make it act freely, it is placed
upon a bed of sand, by which every motion of the ship
disturbs its operation. Hand-mills, termed querns,
were early used for grinding corn: and when corn came
to be raised in greater quantity, horse-mills succeeded.
Water-mills for grinding coin are described by Vitru¬
vius. Wind-mills were known in Greece, and in Ara¬
bia as early as the seventh century ; and yet no men¬
tion is made of them in Italy till the fourteenth. That
they were not known in England till the reign of Hen¬
ry VIII. appears from a household book of an earl of
Northumberland, cotemporary with that king, stating
an allorvance for three mill-horses, “ two to draw in
the mill, and one to carry stuff to and from the mill.”
Water-mills for corn must in England have been of a
later date. The ancients had mirror-glasses, and em¬
ployed glass to imitate crystal vases and goblets *, yet
they never thought of using it in windows. In the
13th century, the Venetians were the only people who
had the art of making crystal glass for mirrors. A
clock that strikes the hours rvas unknown in Europe
till the end of the I2th century. And hence the cu¬
stom of employing men to proclaim the hours during
night j which to this day continues in Germany, Flan¬
ders, and England. Galileo was the first who con¬
ceived an idea that a pendulum might be used for
measuring time j and Huygens was the first who put
the idea in execution, by making a pendulum clock.
Hook, in the year 1660, invented a spiral spring for
a watch, though a watch was far from being a new in¬
vention. Paper was made no earlier than the 14th
century \ and the invention of printing was a century
later. Silk manufactures were long established in
Greece before silk-worms were introduced there. The An*.
manufacturers were provided with raw silk from Per-   
sia : but that commerce being frequently interrupted
by war, two monks, in the reign of Justinian, brought
eggs of the silk-worm from Hindostan, and taught
their countrymen the method of managing them.—
The art of reading made a very slow progress. To
encourage that art in England, the capital punishment
for murder was remitted, if the criminal could but
read, which in law language is termed beneft of cler¬
gy. One would imagine that the arts must have made
a very rapid progx-ess when so greatly favoured : but
there is a signal proof of the contrary : for so small an
edition of the Bible as 6oo copies, translated into Eng¬
lish in the reign of Henry VIII. was not wholly sold
off’ in three years. The people of England must have
been profoundly ignorant in Queen Elizabeth’s time,
when a forged clause added to the 20th article of the
English creed passed unnoticed till about 50 years
a£°\
The discoveries of the Portuguese on the west coast
of Africa, is a remarkable instance of the slow’progress
of arts. In the beginning of the 15th century, they
were totally ignorant of that coast beyond Cape Non,
28 degrees north latitude. In 1410, the celebrated
Prince Henry of Portugal fitted out a fleet for disco¬
veries, which proceeded along the coast to Cape Baja-
dore in 28 deg. but had not courage to double it. In
1418, Tristan Vaz discovered the island Porto Santo •,
and the year after, the island Madeira was discovered.
In 1439, a Portuguese captain doubled Cape Bajadore j
and the next year the Portuguese reached Cape Blan¬
co, lat. 20 degrees. In 1446, Nuna Tristan doubled
Cape de Verd, lat. 14. 40. In 1448, Don Gonzallo
Vallo took possession of the Azores. In 1449, the
islands of Cape de Verd were discovered for Don Hen¬
ry. In 1471, Pedro d’Escovar discovered the island
St Thomas and Prince’s island. In 1484, Diego Cam
discovered the kingdom of Congo. In i486, Bartho¬
lomew Diaz, employed by John II. of Portugal, dou¬
bled the Cape of Good Hope, which he called Cabo
Tormentoso, from the tempestuous weather he found in
the passage. ^
The exertion of national spirit upon any particular Causes
art, promotes activity to prosecute other arts. The
Romans, by constant study, came to excel in the art p’.0(Trcgs 4
of war, which led them naturally to improve upon arts!
other arts. Having, in the progress of society, ac¬
quired some degree of taste and polish, a talent for
writing broke forth. Nevius composed in verse seven
books of the Punic war; besides comedies, replete
with bitter raillery against the nobility. Ennius wwote
annals, and an epic poem. Lucius Andronicus was
the father of dramatic poetry in Rome. Pacuvius
wrote tragedies. Plautus and Terence wrote come¬
dies. Lucilius composed satires, which Cicero esteems
to be slight and void of erudition. Fabius Pictor, Cin-
cius Alimentus, Piso Frugi, Valerius Antias, and Ca¬
to, were rather annalists than historians, confining
themselves to naked facts, ranged in order of time.
The genius of the Romans for the fine arts was much
inflamed by Greek learning, when free intercourse be¬
tween the two nations was opened. Many of those
who made the greatest figure in the Roman state com¬
menced
ART
ftTUt menced authors j Caesar, Cicero, &c. Sylla composed
-y—> memoirs of his own transactions, a work much esteemed
even in the days of Plutarch.
The progress of art seldom fails to be rapid, when
a people happen to be roused out of a torpid state by
some fortunate change of circumstances. Prosperity,
contrasted with former abasement, gives to the mind a
spring, which is vigorously exerted in every new pur¬
suit. The Athenians made but a mean figure under
the tyranny of Pisistratus $ but upon regaining free¬
dom and independence, they were converted into he¬
roes. Miletus, a Greek city of Ionia, being destroy¬
ed by the king of Persia, and the inhabitants made
slaves, the Athenians, deeply affected with the misery
of their brethren, boldly attacked the king in his own
dominions, and burnt the city of Sardis. In less than
10 years after, they gained a signal victory at Mara¬
thon ; and, under Themistocles, made head against that
prodigious army with which Xerxes threatened utter
ruin to Greece. Such prosperity produced its usual ef¬
fects : arts flourished with arms, and Athens became
the chief theatre for sciences, as well as for fine arts.
The reign of Augustus Caesar, which put an end to
the rancour of civil war, and restored peace to Rome,
with the comforts of society, proved an auspicious era
for literature j and produced a cloud of Latin historians,
poets, and philosophers, to whom the moderns are in¬
debted for their taste and talents. One who makes a
figure rouses emulation in all : one catches fire from
another, and the national spirit is everywhere triumph¬
ant : classical works are composed, and useful discove¬
ries made in every art and science. With regard to
Rome, it is true, that the Roman government under
Augustus was in effect despotic: but despotism, in that
single instance, made no obstruction to literature, it
having been the policy of that reign to hide power as
much as possible. A similar revolution happened in
Tuscany about three centuries ago. That country
having been divided into a number of small republics,
the people, excited by mutual hatred between small na¬
tions' in close neighbourhood, became ferocious and
bloody, flaming with revenge for the slightest offence.
These republics being united under the great duke
of Tuscany, enjoyed the sweets of peace in a mild go¬
vernment. That comfortable revolution which made
the deeper impression by a retrospect to recent calami¬
ties, roused the national spirit, and produced ardent
application to arts and literature. The restoration of
the royal family in England, which put an end to a
cruel and envenomed civil war, promoted improvements
of every kind ; arts and industry made a rapid progress
among the people, though left to themselves by a weak
and fluctuating administration. Had the nation, upon
that favourable turn of fortune, been blessed with a
succession of able and virtuous princes, to what a height
might not arts and sciences have been carried ! In
Scotland, a favourable period for improvement was the
reign of the first Robert, after shaking off the English
yoke ; but the domineering spirit ol the feudal system
rendered every attempt abortive. T he restoration of
the royal family mentioned above, animated the legis¬
lature of Scotland to promote manufactures of various
kinds : but in vain 5 for the union of the two crowns
had introduced despotism into Scotland, which sunk
the genius of the people, and rendered them heartless
Vol. II. Part II. f
ART
and indolent. Liberty, indeed, and many other ad- Arts,
vantages, were procured to them by the union of the v——y-"
two kingdoms j but the salutary effects were long sus¬
pended by mutual enmity, such as commonly subsists
between neighbouring nations. Enmity gradually wore
out, and the eyes of the Scots were opened to the ad¬
vantages of their present condition ; the national spirit
was roused to emulate and to excel j talents were exert¬
ed, hitherto latent; and Scotland at present makes a fi¬
gure in arts and sciences above what it ever made while
an independent kingdom.
Another cause of activity and animation, is the be¬
ing engaged in some important action of doubtful event $
a struggle for liberty, the resisting a potent invader, or
the like. Greece, divided into small states frequently
at war with each other, advanced literature and the fine
arts to unrivalled perfection. The Corsicans, while en¬
gaged in a perilous war for defence of their liberties, ex¬
erted a vigorous national spirit 5 they founded a univer¬
sity for arts and sciences, a public library, and a public
bank. After a long stupor during the dark ages of
Christianity, arts and literature revived among the tur¬
bulent states of Italy. The Royal Society in London,
and the Academy of Sciences in Paris, were both of
them instituted after civil wars that had animated the
people and roused their activity.
As the progress of arts and sciences toward perfec¬
tion is greatly promoted by emulation, nothing is more
fatal to an art or science than to remove that spur, as
where some extraordinary genius appears who soars
above rivalship. Mathematics seem to be declining in
Britain •, the great Newton, having surpassed all the an¬
cients, has not left to the moderns even the faintest hope
of equalling him ; and what man will enter the lists who
despairs of victory!
In a country thinly peopled, where even necessary
arts want hands, it is common to see one person ex¬
ercising more arts than one : in several parts of Scot¬
land, one man serves as a physician, surgeon, and apo¬
thecary. In every populous country, even simple arts
are split into parts, and each part has an artist appro¬
priated to it. In the large towns of ancient Egypt,
a physician was confined to a single disease. In me¬
chanic arts that method is excellent. As a hand con¬
fined to a single operation becomes both expert and ex¬
peditious, a mechanic art is perfected by having its dif¬
ferent operations distributed among the greatest num¬
ber of hands: many hands are employed in making a
watch, and a still greater number in manufacturing a
web of woollen cloth. Various arts or operations car¬
ried on by the same man, invigorate his mind, because
they exercise different faculties ; and as he cannot be
equally expert in every art or operation, he is fre¬
quently reduced to supply want of skill by thought
and invention. Constant application, on the contrary,
to a single operation, confines the mind to a single
object, and excludes all thought and invention : in
such a train of life, the operator becomes dull and stu¬
pid, like a beast of burden. The difference is visi¬
ble in the manners of the people : in a country where,
from want of hands, several occupations must be car¬
ried on by the same person, the people are knowing
and conversable : in a populous country, where manu¬
factures flourish, they are ignorant and unsociable.
The same effect is equally visible in countries where an
" 4 S art
[ 689 ]
ART [ 600 ] ART
Arts. art or manufacture is confined to a certain class of men.
I*“' v It is visible in Indostan, where tiie people are divided
into casts, which never mix even by marriage, and
where every man follows his father’s trade. The
Dutch lint-boors are a similar instance : the same fa¬
mily carries on the trade from generation to generation j
and are accordingly ignorant and brutish even beyond
other Dutch peasants. The inhabitants of Buckhaven,
a sea-port in the county of Fife, were originally a co¬
lony of foreigners, invited hither to teach our peo¬
ple the art oi fishing. They continue fishers to this
day, marry among themselves, have little intercourse
with their neighbours, and are dull and stupid to a pro-
3 verb.
ihe/i/ieS ^ arts Pave way to fine arts. Men upon
arts™™ w^om former had bestowed every convenience,
turned their thoughts to the latter. Beauty was stu¬
died in objects of sight j and men of taste attached
themselves to the fine arts, which multiplied their en¬
joyments, and improved their benevolence. Sculpture
and painting made an early figure in Greece $ which
afforded plenty of beautiful originals to be copied in
these imitative arts. Statuary, a more simple imita¬
tion than painting, was sooner brought to perfection :
the statue of Jupiter by Phidias, and of Juno by Poly-
cletes, though the admiration of all the world, were
executed long before the art of light and shade was
known. Apollodorus, and Zeuxis his disciple, who
flourished in the 95th Olympiad, were the first who
figured in that art. Another cause concurred to ad¬
vance statuary before painting in Greece, viz. a great
demand for statues of their gods. Architecture, as a
fine art, made a slower progress. Proportions, upon
which its elegance chiefly depends, cannot be accurately
ascertained, but by an infinity of trials in great build¬
ings : a model cannot be relied on ; for a large and a
small building, even of the same form, require different
^ proportions.
J.iterary From the fine arts mentioned, we proceed to litera-
5onP°5i' tur.e: lt lS agree(l> among all antiquaries, that the first
writings were in verse, and that writing in prose was of
a much latex' date. I he first Greek who wrote in prose
was Pherecides Syrus : the first Roman was Appius
Coccus, who composed a declamation against Pyrrhus.
J he four books of the Chatah Bhade, which is the sa¬
cred book of Hindostan, ai'e composed in verse stanzas j
and the Arabian compositions in prose followed long
after those in verse. To account for that singular fact,
many learned pens have been employed j but without
success. By some it has been urged, that as memory
is the only record of events where writing is unknown,
history originally was composed in verse for the sake of
mem01 y. Phis is not satisfactory. To undertake the
painful task of composing in verse, merely for the sake
of memory, would require more foresight than ever was
exerted by a barbarian: not to mention that other
means were used for preserving the memory of remark¬
able events j a heap of stones, a pillar, or other object
that catches the eye. The account given by Longinus
is more ingenious. In a fragment of his treatise on
verse, the only pai't that remains, he observes, “ that
measure or verse belongs to poetry, because poetry re¬
presents the various passions with their language j for
which reason the ancients, in their oi'dinary discourse,
delivered their thoughts in verse rather than in prose.”
3
Longinus thought, that anciently men wei’e more ex- ^rts
posed to accidents and dangers, than when they were w—yj,,
protected by good government and by fortified cities.
But he seems not to have adverted, that fear and grief
inspired by dangers and misfortunes, are better suited to
humble prose than to elevated verse. It may be added,
that however natural poetical diction may be when
one is animated with any vivid passion, it is not suppo-
sable that the ancients never wrote nor spoke but when
excited by passion. Their history, their laws, their
covenants, were certainly not composed in that tone of
mind.
An important article in the progress of the fine arts,
which writers have not sufficiently attended to, will
perhaps explain this mystery. The article is the pro¬
fession of a bard, which sprung up in early times before
writing was known *, and died away gradually as writ- * Sec the
ing became more and more common f. article
The songs of the bards, being universal favourites,
were certainly the first compositions that writing was* C *
employed upon: they would be carefully collected
by the most skilful writers, in order to preserve them
in perpetual remembrance. The following part of the
progress is obvious. People acquainted with no writ¬
ten compositions, but what were in verse, composed in
verse their laws, their religious cexemonies, and every
memorable transaction that was intended to be preser¬
ved in memory by writing. But when subjects of
writing multiplied, and became more and more invol¬
ved j when people began to reason, to teach, and to
harangue; they were obliged to descend to humble
prose: for to confine a writer or speaker to vei’se in
handling subjects of that nature would be a burden un-
supportable.
The prose compositions of early historians are all of History,
them dramatic. A writer destitute of art is naturally
prompted to relate facts as he saw them performed:
he introduces his personages as speaking and confer¬
ring ; and he himself relates what was acted, and not
spoke. The historical books of the Old Testament are
composed in that mode ; and so addicted to the drama¬
tic are the authors of those books, that they frequently
introduce God himself into the dialogue. At the
same time, the simplicity of that mode is happily suited
to the poverty of every language in its early periods.
The dramatic mode has a delicious effect in expx'es-
sing sentiment, and every thing that is simple and ten¬
der. Read, as an instance of a low incident becoming,
by that means, not a little interesting, Ruth i. 8. to
iv. 16.
1 he dramatic mode is far from pleasing so much in
relating bare historical facts. Read, as an example, the
story of Adonijah in 1 Kings i. 11—49.
In that passage there are frequent repetitions ; not
however by the same person, but by different persons,
who have occasion in the course of the story to say the
same things ; which is natural in the dramatic mode,
where things are represented precisely as they were
transacted. In that view, Homer’s repetitions are a
beauty, not a blemish ; for they are confined to the dra¬
matic part, and never occur in the narrative.
But the dramatic mode of composition, however
pleasing, is tedious and intolerable in a long historv.
In the progress of society new appetites and new pas¬
sions arise $ men come to be involved with each other
in
ART [ 691 ] ART
Arts, m various connexions; incidents and events multiply,
-v——' and history becomes intricate by an endless variety of
circumstances. Dialogue accordingly is more sparingly
used, and in history plain narration is mixed with it.
Narration is as it were the ground work; and dialogue
is raised upon it, like flowers in embroidery. Homer is
admitted by all to be the great master in that mode of
composition.
The narrative mode came in time so to prevail, that
in a long chain of history, the writer commonly leaves
off dialogue altogether. Early writers of that kind
appear to have very little judgment in distinguishing
capital facts from minute circumstances, such as can be
supplied by the reader without being mentioned. The
history of the Trojan war by Dares Phrygius is a curi¬
ous instance of that cold and creeping manner of com¬
position. The Roman histories before the time of Ci¬
cero are chronicles merely. Cato, Fabius Pictor, and
Piso, confined themselves to naked facts. In the Augus¬
tas Historiae Scriptores we find nothing but a jejune
narrative of facts, commonly of very little moment,
concerning a degenerate people, without a single inci¬
dent that can rouse the imagination or exercise the
judgment. The monkish histories are all of them com¬
posed in the same manner.
The dry narrative manner being very little interest¬
ing or agreeable, a taste for embellishment prompted
some writers to be copious and verbose. Saxo-Gram-
maticus, who in the 12th century composed in Latin a
history of Denmark surprisingly pure at that early pe¬
riod, is extremely verbose and full of tautologies. Such
a style, at any rate unpleasant, is intolerable in a mo¬
dern tongue, before it is enriched with a stock of phrases
tor expressing aptly the great variety of incidents that
enter into history.
The perfection of historical composition which wri¬
ters at last attain to after wandering through various
imperfect modes, is a relation of interesting facts,
connected with their motives and consequences. A
history of that kind is truly a chain of causes and ef¬
fects.
The history of Thucydid es, and still more that of
6 Tacitus, are shining instances of that mode.
Eloauenee. Eloquence was of a later date than the arPof litera¬
ry composition; for till the latter was improved there
were no models for studying the former. Cicero’s
oration for Roscius is composed in a style diffuse and
highly ornamented ; which, says Plutarch, was univer¬
sally approved, because at that time the style of Asia,
introduced into Rome with its luxury, was in high
vogue. But Cicero, in a journey to Greece, where
he leisurely studied Greek authors, was taught to
prune off superfluities, and to purify his style, which
he did to a high degree of refinement. He introdu¬
ced into his native tongue a sweetness, a grace, a ma¬
jesty, that surprised the world, and even the Romans
themselves. Cicero observes with great regret, that if
ambition for power had not drawn Julius Caesar from
the bar to command legions, he would have become
the most complete orator in the world. So partial are
men to the profession in which they excel. Eloquence
triumphs in a popular assembly ; makes some figure in
a court of law composed of many judges, very little
where there is but a single judge, and none at all in a
despotic government. Eloquence flourished in the re¬
publics of Athens and of Rome ; and makes some figure Aits,
at present in a British house of commons.
The Greek stage has been justly admired among all, 7
polite nations. The tragedies of Sophocles and Eu- ra^e
ripides, in particular, are by all critics held to be perfect
in their kind, excellent models for imitation, but far
above rivalship. If the Greek stage was so early
brought to maturity, it is a phenomenon not a little
singular in the progress of arts. The Greek tragedy
made a rapid progress from Thespis to Sophocles and
Euripides, whose compositions are wonderful produc¬
tions of genius, considering that the Greeks at that
period were but beginning to emerge from roughness
and barbarity into a taste for literature. The compo¬
sitions of Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, must
have been highly relished among a people who had no
idea of any thing more perfect. We judge by compa¬
rison, and every work is held to be perfect that has
no rival. It ought at the same time to be kept in
view, that it was not the dialogue which chiefly enchant¬
ed the Athenians, nor variety in the passions repre¬
sented, nor perfection in the actors; but machinery
and pompous decoration, joined with exquisite music.
That these particulars were carried to the greatest
height, we may with certainty conclude from the ex¬
travagant sums bestowed on them : the exhibiting a
single tragedy was more expensive to the Athenians
than their fleet or their armies in any single campaign.
One would imagine, however, that these composi¬
tions were too simple to enchant for ever : as variety
in action, sentiment, and passion, is requisite, without
which the stage will not continue long a favourite en¬
tertainment : and yet wre find not a single improve-
• ment attempted after the days of Sophocles and Euri¬
pides. The manner of performance, indeed, prevented
absolutely any improvement. A fluctuation of passion
and refined sentiments would have made no figure on
the Grecian stage. Imagine the discording scene be¬
tween Brutus and Cassius in Julius Caesar to be there
exhibited, or the handkerchief in the Moor of Venice :
how slight would be their effect, when pronounced in
a mask, and through a pipe ? The workings of nature
upon the countenance, and the flexions of voice ex¬
pressive of various feelings, so deeply affecting in mo¬
dern representation, would have been entirely lost. If
a great genius had arisen with talents for composing a
pathetic tragedy in perfection, he would have made
no figure in Greece. An edifice must have been erected
of a moderate size : new actors must have been trained
to act with a bare face, and to pronounce in their own
voice. And after all, there remained a greater miracle
still to be performed, viz. a total reformation of taste in
the people of Athens. In one word, the simplicity of
the Greek tragedy w’as suited to the manner of acting;
and that manner excluded all improvements. 3
With respect to comedy, it does not appear that the Comedy.’
Greek comedy surpassed the tragedy in its progress
toward perfection. Horace mentions three stages of
Greek comedy. The first well suited to the rough
and coarse manners of the Greeks, when Eupolis, Cra-
tinus, and Aristophanes wrote. These authors rvere
not ashamed to represent on the stage real persons, not
even disguising their names ; of which we have a strik¬
ing instance in a comedy of Aristophanes, called T/se
Clouds, where Socrates is introduced, and most con-
4 S 2 temptuously,
ART [ 602 ] ART
Arts. temptuously treated. This sort of comedy, sparing
v " neither gods nor men, was restrained by the magistrates
of Athens, so far as to prohibit persons to be named on
the stage, This led writers to do what is done at pre¬
sent : the characters and manners of known persons
were painted so much to the life, that there could be
no mistake ; and the satire was indeed heightened by
this regulation, as it was an additional pleasure to find
out the names that were meant in the representation.
This was termed the middle comedy. But as there still
remained too great scope for obloquy and licentiousness,
a law was made, prohibiting real events or incidents to
be introduced upon the stage. This law happily ba¬
nished satire against individuals, and confined it to man¬
ners and customs in general. Obedient to this law are
the comedies of Menander, Philemon, and Diphilus,
who flourished about 300 years before the Christian era.
And this is termed the third stage of Greek comedy.
The comedies of Aristophanes which still remain, err
not less against taste than against decency. But the
Greek comedy is supposed to have been considerably
refined by Menander and his contemporaries. Their
works, however, were far from perfection, if we can
draw any conjecture from their imitator Plautus, who
wrote about a century later. Plautus was a writer of
genius j and it may be reasonably supposed that his
copies did not fall much short of the originals, at least
in matters that can be faithfully copied j and he shows
very little art, either in his compositions or in the con¬
duct of his pieces. With respect to the former, his
plots are wondrous simple, very little varied, and very
little interesting. The subject of almost every piece is
a young man in love with a music girl, desiring to pur¬
chase her from the procurer, and employing a favourite
slave to cheat his father out of the price j and the
different ways of accomplishing the cheat is all the va¬
riety we find. In some few of his comedies the story
rises to a higher tone, the music girl being discovered
to be the daughter of a freeman, which removes every
obstruction of a marriage between her and her lover.
In the conduct of his pieces there is a miserable defect
of art. Instead of unfolding the subject in the progress
of the action, as is done by Terence, and by every
modern writer, Plautus introduces a person for no other
end but to explain the story to the audience. In one
of his comedies, a household god is so obliging as not
only to unfold the subject, but to relate before-hand
every particular that is to be represented, not except¬
ing the catastrophe.
The Roman theatre, from the time of Plautus to that
of lerence, made a rapid progress. Aristotle defines
comedy to be “ an imitation of light and trivial sub¬
jects, provoking laughter.” The comedies of Plautus
correspond accurately to that definition t those of Te¬
rence rise to a higher tone.
Nothing is more evident than the superiority of Te¬
rence above Plautus in the art of writing j and, consi¬
dering that Terence is a later writer, nothing would
appear more natural, if they did not copy the same ori¬
ginals. It may be owing to genius that Terence ex¬
celled in purity of language and propriety of dialogue *,
but how account for his superiority over Plautus in the
construction and conduct of a play ? It will not cer¬
tainly be thought, that Plautus would imitate the worst
constructed plays, leaving the best to those who should
a-
come after him. This difficulty does not seem to have Arts,
occurred to any of the commentators. Had the works
of Menander and of his cotemporaries been preserved,
they probably would have explained the mystery j
which for want of that light will probably remain a
mystery for ever.
Homer has for more that 2000 years been held the Epopee,
prince of poets. Such perfection in an author who
flourished when arts were far short of maturity, is tru¬
ly wonderful. The nations engaged in the Trojan war
are described by him as in a progress from the shepherd
state to that of agriculture. Frequent mention is made
in the Iliad of the most eminent men being shepherds.
Andromache, in particular, mentions seven of her bre-
tliren who were slain by Achilles as they tended their
father’s flocks and herds. In that state, garments of
woollen cloth were used $ but the skins of beasts, the
original clothing, were still worn as an upper garment $,
every chief in the Iliad appeared in that dress. Such
indeed was the simplicity of this early period, that a
black ewe was promised by each chief to the man who
would undertake to be a spy. In times of such simpli¬
city, literature could not be far advanced 5 and it is a
great doubt, whether there was at that time a single
poem of the epic kind for Homer to imitate or improve
upon. Homer is undoubtedly a wonderful genius, per¬
haps the greatest that ever existed : his fire, and the
boldness of his conceptions, are inimitable. But in
that early age, it would fall little short of a real mi¬
racle, to find such ripeness of judgment, and correctness
of execution, as in modern writers are the fruits of long
experience and progressive improvements during the
course of many centuries. Accordingly, that Homer
is far from being so ripe, or so correct, cannot escape
the observation of any reader of taste and discernment. ^
One striking particular is, his digressions without end,
which draw our attention from the principal subject.
Diomedes, for instance, meeting with Glaucus in the
field of battle, and doubting from his majestic air,
whether he might not be an immortal, inquires who he
was, declaring that he would not fight with a god.
Glaucus lays hold of this very slight opportunity, in
the very heat of action, to give a long history of his
family. In the mean time the reader’s patience is
put to a trial, and his ardour cools. Again, Aga¬
memnon desiring advice how to resist the Trojans, Dio¬
medes springs forward ; but before he offers advice,
gives the history of all his progenitors, and of their
characters, in a long train. And, after all, what was
the sage advice that required such a preface ? It was,
that Agamemnon should exhort the Greeks to fight
bravely. At any rate, was Diomedes so little known,
as to make it proper to suspend the action at so critical
a juncture, for a genealogical history ? There is a
third particular which justly merits censure j and that
is, an endless number of minute circumstances, espe¬
cially in the description of battles, where they are
most improper. The capital beauty of an epic poem
is, the selection of such incidents and circumstances
as make a deep impression, keeping out of view every
thing low or familiar. An account of a single battle
employs the whole fifth book of the Iliad and a great
part of the sixth : yet in the whole there is no general
action j but unknown warriors, whom we never heard
ol before, killed at a distance with an arrow or a jave-
ART r 693 ] ART
Arts.
arts.
lin 5 ami every wound described with anatomical accu¬
racy. The whole seventeenth book is employed in the
contest about the dead body of Patroclus, stuffed with
minute circumstances, below the dignity of an epic
poem. In such scenes the reader is fatigued with end¬
less particulars; and has nothing to support him but
the melody ef Homer’s versification.
Causes of Having traced the progress of the fine arts toward
the decline maturity, in a summary way, the decline of these arts
of the fine COmes next in order. An art, in its progress toward
maturity, is greatly promoted by emulation ; and, af¬
ter arriving at maturity, its downfal is not less promo¬
ted by it. It is difficult to judge of perfection but by
comparison j and an artist, ambitious to outstrip his
predecessors, cannot submit to be an imitator, but must
strike out something new, which, in an art advanced
to ripeness, seldom fails to be a degeneracy. This
cause of the decline of the fine arts may be illustrated
by various instances. The perfection of vocal music is
to accompany passion, and to enforce sentiment. In
ancient Greece, the province of music was well under¬
stood $ which being confined within its proper sphere,
had an enchanting influence. Harmony at that time
was very little cultivated, because it was of very little
use : melody reaches the heart, and it is by it chiefly
that a sentiment is enforced, ora passion soothed j har¬
mony, on the contrary, reaches the ear only j and it
is a matter of undoubted experience, that the most me¬
lodious airs admit but of very simple harmony. Art¬
ists, in later times, ignorant why harmony was so little
regarded by the ancients, applied themselves seriously
to its cultivation $ and they have been wonderfully suc¬
cessful. But they have been successful at the expence
of melody $ which in modern compositions, generally
speaking, is lost amid the blaze of harmony. These
compositions tickle the ear by the luxury of complica¬
ted sounds, but seldom make any impression on the
heart. The Italian opera, in its form, resembles the
Oreek tragedy, from which it is evidently copied; but
very little in substance. In the latter, music being
made subservient to sentiment, the dialogue is nervous
and sublime : in the former, the whole weight is laid on
music ; and the dialogue, devoid of sentiment, is weak
and spiritless. Restless man knows no golden mean,
but will be attempting innovations without end. By
the same ambition, architecture has visibly declined
from its perfection. The Ionic was the favourite order
when architecture was in its height ol glory. The
Corinthian order came next; which, in attempting
greater perfection, has deviated from the true simpli¬
city of nature ; and the deviation is still greater in the
Composite order. With respect to literary productions,
the first essays of the Romans were very imperfect.
We may judge of this from Plautus, whose composi¬
tions are abundantlv rude, though much admired by
his cotemporavies, being the best that existed at that
time. The exalted spirit of the Romans hurried them
on to the grand and beautiful; and literary produc¬
tions of all kinds were in perfection when Augustus
reigned. In attempting still greater perfection, the
Roman compositions became a strange jumble of incon¬
sistent parts ; they were tumid and pompous ; and, at
the same time, full of antitheses, conceit, and tinsel
wit. Every thing new in the fine arts pleases, though
less perfect than what we are accustomed to; and, for
that reason, such compositions were generally relish¬
ed. We see not by what gradual steps writers, after
the time of Augustus, deviated from the patterns that
were before them ; for no book of any moment after
that time is preserved till we come down to Seneca,
in whose works nature and simplicity give place to ar¬
tificial thought and bastard wit. He was a great cor¬
rupter of the Roman taste ; and after him nothing
was relished but brilliant strokes of fancy, with very
little regard to sentiment : even Virgil and Cicero
made no figure in comparison. Lucan has a forced
elevation of thought and style very difficult to be sup¬
ported ; and, accordingly, he sinks often into puerile
reflections; witness his encomium on the river Po;
which, says he, would equal the Danube, had it the
same number of tributary streams. Quintilian, a wri¬
ter of true and classical taste, who was protected and
encouraged by Vespasian, attempted to stem the tide
of false writing. His rhetoric is composed in an ele¬
gant style ; and bis observations contain every delicacy
of the critical art. At the same time flourished Ta¬
citus, possessing a more extensive knowledge of the
nature of man than any other author, ancient or mo¬
dern, if Shakespeare be not excepted. His style is ori¬
ginal, concise, compact, and comprehensive ; and, in
what is properly called his history, perfectly correct and
beautiful. He has been imitated by sevex-al, but never
equalled by any. Brutus is said to be the last of the
Romans for love of liberty : Quintilian and Tacitus
may be said to be the last of the Romans for literary
genius. Pliny the younger is no exception ; his style
is affected, turgid, ami full of childish brilliancy. Se¬
neca and Pliny are proper examples of writers who stu¬
dy show more than substance, and who make sense yield
to sound. The difference between these authors and
those of the Augustan age, resembles the difference be¬
tween Greek and Italian music. Music, among the
Greeks, limited itself to the employment to which it is
destined by nature, viz. to be the handmaid of sense, to
enforce, enliven, or sweeten a sentiment. In the Italian
opera, the mistress is degraded to be handmaid; and
harmony triumphs with very little regard to sentL-
ment.
Another great cause that precipitates the downfal of
every fine art is despotism. The reason is obvious ; and
there is a dismal example of it in Rome, particulaRy
with regard to eloquence. We learn from a dialogue
accounting for the corruption of the Roman eloquence,
that in the decline of the art it became fashionable to
stuff harangues with impertinent poetical quotations,
without any view but ornament merely ; and this also
was long fashionable in France. It happened unlucki¬
ly for the Romans, and for the world, that the fine
arts were at their height in Rome, and not much upon
the decline in Greece, when despotism put an end to the
republic. Augustus, it is true, retarded their fall, par¬
ticularly that of literature ;. it being the policy of his
reign to hide despotism, and to give his government
an air of freedom. His court was a school of urbani¬
ty, where people of genius acquired that delicacy of
taste, that elevation of sentiment, and that purity of
expression, which characterise the writers of his time.
He honoured men of learning, admitted them to his
table, and was bountiful to them. It would be pain¬
ful to follow the decline of the fine arts in Rome to
their
art
Art?. tlielr total extirpation. The tyranny of Tiberius, and
v,—0f subsequent emperors, broke at last the elevated and
independent spirit of the brave Romans, reduced them
to abject slavery, and left not a spark of genius. The
science of law is the only exception, as it flourished even
in the worst of times : the Roman lawyers were a re¬
spectable body, and less the object of jealousy than
men of power and extensive landed property. Among
the Greeks also, a conquered people, the fine arts de¬
cayed $ but not so rapidly as at Rome : the Greeks,
farther removed from the seat of government, being
less within the reach of a Roman tyrant. During
their depression, they were guilty of the most puerile
conceits : witness verses composed in the form of an axe,
an egg, wings, and such like. The style of Greek au¬
thors, in the reign of the emperor Adrian, is unequal,
obscure, stiff, and affected. Lucian is the only excep¬
tion that may be made.
We scarcely need any other cause but despotism, to
account for the decline of statuary and painting in
Greece. These arts had arrived at their utmost perfec¬
tion about the time of Alexander the Great; and from
that time they declined gradually with the vigour of a
free people ; for Greece was now enslaved by the Mace¬
donian power. It may in general be observed, that
when anation becomes stationary in that degree of power
, which it acquires from its constitution and situation, the
national spirit subsides, and men of talents become rare.
It is still worse with a nation that is sunk below its for¬
mer power and pre-eminence ; and worst of all when it
is reduced to slavery. Other causes concurred to acce¬
lerate the downfal of the arts mentioned. Greece, in
the days of Alexander, was filled with statues of excel¬
lent workmanship ; and there being little demand for
more, the later statuaries were reduced to heads and
busts. At last the Romans put a total end both to sta¬
tuary and painting in Greece, by plundering it of its
finest pieces ; and the Greeks, exposed to the avarice of
the conquerors, bestowed no longer any money on the
fine arts.
* Petronius The decline of the fine arts in Rome is by a * writer
Arbiter. of taste and elegance ascribed to a cause different from
any above mentioned, a cause that overwhelms man¬
hood as well as the fine arts wherever it prevails ;
and that is opulence, joined with its faithful attendants
avarice and luxury. “ In ancient times (says he),
when naked virtue had her admirers, the liberal arts
were in their highest vigour j and there was a generous
contest among men, that nothing of real and perma¬
nent advantage should long remain undiscovered. De-
mociitus extracted the juice of every herb and plant £
and, lest the virtue of a single stone or twig should
escape him, he consumed a lifetime in experiments.
Eudoxus, immersed in the study of astronomy, spent his
age upon the top of a mountain. Chrysippus, to stimu¬
late his inventive faculty, thrice purified his genius with
hellebore. lo turn to the imitative arts; Lvsippus,
while labouring on the form of a single statue, perished
from want. Myron, whose powerful hand gave to the
mass almost the soul of man and animals,^—at his death
found not an heir ! Of us of modern times what shall
we say ? Immersed in drunkenness and debauchery, we
want the spirit to cultivate those arts which we possess.
V*. e inveigh against the manners of antiquity ; we study
[ «94 ]
ART
vice alone ; and vice is all we teach. Where now is the
art of reasoning ? W here astronomy P W here is the
right path of wisdom P What man now-a-days is heard
in oui temples to make a vow for the attainment of elo¬
quence, or for the discovery of the fountain of true phi¬
losophy ? Nor do we even pray for health of body, or a
sound understanding. One, while he has scarce entered
the porch of the temple, devotes a gift in the event of
the death of a rich relation ; another prays for the dis¬
covery of a treasure ; a third for a ministerial fortune.
The senate itself, the exemplary preceptor of what is
good and laudable, has promised a thousand pounds of
gold to the capitol ; and, to remove all reproach from
the crime of avarice, has offered a bribe to Jupiter him¬
self. How should we wonder that the art of painting
has declined, when, in the eyes both of the gods and
men, there is more beauty in a mass of gold than in all
the works of Phidias and Apelles.”-—In England, the
fine arts are far from such perfection as to suffer by opu¬
lence. They are in a progress, it is true, toward ma¬
turity ; but they proceed in a very slow pace.
There is still another cause that never fails to under¬
mine a fine art in a country where it is brought to per¬
fection, abstracting from every one of the causes above
mentioned. It is remarked a little above, that nothing
is more fatal to an art or to a science than a performance
so much superior to all of the kind as to extinguish emu¬
lation. This remark is exemplified in the great Newton,
who having surpassed all the ancients, has not left to his
countrymen even the faintest hope of rivalling him; and
to that cause is attributed the visible decline of mathe¬
matics in Great Britain. The same cause would have
been fatal to the arts of statuary and painting among the
Greeks, even though they had continued a free people.
I he decay of painting in modern Italy is, probably, ow¬
ing to the same cause: Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian,
&c. are lofty oaks that bear down young plants in their
neighbourhood, and intercept from them the sunshine of
emulation. Had the art of painting made a slower pro¬
gress in Italy, it might have there continued in vigour
to this day. Velleius Paterculus says judiciously, “Ut
primo ad consequendos quos priores ducimus accendi-
mur; ita, ubi aut praeteriri aut aequari eos posse de-
speravimus, studium cum spe senescit; et quod adse-
qui non potest, sequi desinit: praeteritoque eo in quo
eminere non possimus, aliquid in quo nitamur conqui-
rimus.”
J he decline of an art or science proceeding from the
foregoing cause, is the most rapid where a strict com¬
parison can be instituted between the works of differ¬
ent masters. I he superiority of Newton above every
other mathematician can be ascertained with precision;
and hence the sudden decline of that science in Great
Britain. In Italy a talent for painting continued,
many years in vigour, because no painter appeared with
such superiority of genius as to carry perfection in
every branch of the art. As one surpassed in designing,
one in colouring, one in graceful attitudes, there was
still scope for emulation. But when at last there w'as
not a single perfection but what one or other master
had excelled in, from that period the art began to lan¬
guish. Architecture continued longer in vigour than
painting, because the principles of comparison in the
former are less precise than in the latter. The artist
who
Arts,
Arts.
A R T [ 695
who could not rival his predecessors in an established
1   ' mode, sought out a new mode for himself, which,
though perhaps less elegant or perfect, was for a time
IX supported by novelty.
Useful arts Useful arts will never be neglected in a country
Irdedine1 where •there is any Pollce 5 for every man finds his ac¬
count in them, line arts are more precarious. They
are not relished but by persons of taste, who are
rare j and such as can spare great sums for support¬
ing them are still more rare. For that reason, they
will never flourish in any country, unless patronized
by the sovereign, or by men of power and opulence.
They merit such patronage, as one of the springs of
government: and a capital spring they make, by mul-
tiplying amusements, and humanizing manners ; upon
which account they have always been encouraged by
good princes.
General Theory of the Tolite Arts. The essence of
the polite arts, as before observed, consists in expression.
The end of these arts is pleasure; whereas the end of
the sciences is instruction and utility. Some of the
polite arts, indeed, as eloquence, poetry, and architec¬
ture, are frequently applied to objects that are useful,
or exercised in matters that are instructive, as We shall
show more particularly in their proper place j but in
these cases, though the ground-work belongs to those
sciences which employ the understanding, yet the ex¬
pression arises from the inventive faculty. It is a pic¬
ture that is designed by Minerva, to which the Muses
add the colouring, and the Graces the frame. This
union forms therefore the perfection of the art, accord¬
ing to that sententious and well known precept of Ho¬
race :
]
ART
12
Theory
of the po
lite arts.
i.t
What arts
so denomi¬
nated.
Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci.
Under the denomination therefore, of Polite Arts,
we comprehend, 1. Eloquence ; 2. Poetry j 3. Music j
4. Painting j 5. Sculpture j 6. Graving; 7. Architec¬
ture ; 8. Declamation ; 9. Dancing. Particular de¬
scriptions of these arts are given under their respective
names. This branch of the present article is intended
as a general introduction to them ; and, as such, will
be occasionally referred to.
There is one very essential reflection, which it ap¬
pears to us proper to make in the first place, on the po¬
lite arts in general. All the rules in the world are net
sufficient to make a great poet, an able orator, or an
excellent artist; because the quality necessary to form
these, depends on the natural disposition, the fire of
I^. genius, which no human art can confer, but which is
4^e-the pure gift of heaven. The rules, however, will
prevent a man from being a bad artist, a dull orator, or
a wretched poet; seeing they are the reflections of the
greatest masters in those arts, and that they point out
the rocks which the artist should shun in the exercise of
his talents. They are of use, moreover, in facilitating his
labours, and in directing him to arrive by the shortest
and surest road at perfection. They refine, strengthen,
and confirm his taste. Nature, abandoned to herself, has
something constantly wild and savage. Art, founded on
just and sagacious rules, gives her elegance, dignity, and
politeness; and it is impossible to sacrifice properly to
the Graces, without knowing the incense that is pleasing
to them.
Beauty is the object of all the polite arts. It is not,
however, so easy, as it may seem, to give a clear and Arts,
determinate idea of what we precisely mean by that ^—v—^
term*. Many able writers, who have treated ex- *5
pressly on the subject, have shown that they were to- £e~
tally ignorant of what it was. It is one of these expres-”*^ ^
sions that we comprehend immediately, that present * See the
us with a clear and precise idea, that leave a distinct article
impression on our minds, when it is simply written qyBeuuty-
pronounced ; but which philosophers envelope in dark¬
ness, .when they attempt to elucidate it by definitions
and descriptions; and the more, as mankind have dif¬
ferent ideas of beauty, their opinions and tastes being
as various as their understandings and physiognomies.
We may say, however, in general, that beauty results
from the various perfections ol which any object is sus¬
ceptible, and which it actually possesses ; and that the
perfections which produce beauty consist principally in
the agreeable and delightful proportions which are
found, 1. Between the several parts of the same ob¬
ject ; 2. Between each part and the whole together ;
3. Between the parts and the end or design of the ob¬
ject to which they belong. Genius, or invention, is
that faculty of the mind by which beauty is produced.
Tastedisposition, or rather the natural sensation off SecTaste.
the mind refined by art, serves to guide the genius in
discerning, embracing, and producing, that which is
beautiful of every kind. From whence it follows,
that the general theory of the polite arts is nothing
more than the knowledge of what they contain that is
truly beautiful and agreeable ; and it is this knowledge,
this theory, which modern philosophers call by the
Latin name of cesthetica.
It should be constantly remembered, that the essence
of the polite arts consists in expression. This expres¬
sion lies sometimes in the words, and sometimes in the
pen ; sometimes in sounds and their harmony, and at
others in corporeal attitudes ; sometimes in the pen¬
cil or in the chisel, and at others in the graver; some¬
times in a proper disposition or judicious employment
of the mechanic arts, and at others merely in their
manner of acting. From whence arise those arts that
we have mentioned, and which are described in their
order. jg
The general theory of the polite arts, or pjrst gcne-
necessarily supposes, therefore, certain rules ; but theseral rule,
general rules are of no great number. The first is,
That whoever would devote himself to the polite arts,
should above all things consult his genius ; divest himself
of self-love ; and examine if he be a true son of Apollo,
and cherished by the Muses : for
In vain, rash author, dost thou strive to climb,
By lofty verse, Parnassus’ height sublime,
If heaven does not by secret powers inspire,
Or if thy natal star darts not poetic fire.
This precept with regard to poetry in particular, is
applicable to all the polite arts in general: for their
most happy success is founded on imagination.
this term, we understand, in general, a faculty of the fiow what.
mind, a particular genius, a lively invention, a certain
subtle spirit, which gives a facility in discovering
something new. But. it is necessary also to describe
just bounds to this term new, which must not be beie^jj^
taken in an absolute sense. Solomon wisely remarks, anfj jnval.
that, even in his time, there was nothing new under tion.
the
% Imagina-
ART
[ 696 ]
ART
Arts. the sun. In fact, all that exists, ami all that is capable
—v—* of being discovered in the known world, has already
been discovered. The fine arts in their imitations of
nature, in their expressions, can borrow images, fi¬
gures, comparisons, from those things only that exist
and are known. As there have been from the begin¬
ning of the world to our days, millions of authors in
each of the polite arts, almost all the possible combi¬
nations of the various subjects have been produced by
their lively imaginations *, and when we hear the igno¬
rant part of mankind talk of a work of wit or of art
that is entirely new, that offers ideas which were be¬
fore utterly unknown, that had never entered into the
hrain of any other man, we should refer such assertions
to the class of popular errors: and reflect on those sto¬
ries we every day hear of certain empirics, who pretend
to be alone possessed of marvellous methods of cure by
means of simples \ as if there were any plant, any stalk
of grass that grows in our world, that can have escaped
the researches of botanists. But the novelty, of which
we here speak, consists in the ingenious use of combina¬
tions of all the various objects of nature, that are new,
happy, and agreeable, that have not yet been exhaust¬
ed, and which appear even to be inexhaustible 5 and of
the use which the artist makes of all new discoveries,
which he turns to his advantage by a judicious appli¬
cation. Invention therefore supposes a considerable
fund of preliminary knowledge, such as is capable of
furnishing ideas and images, to form new combinations.
But there is no art by which invention itself can be
produced j for that, as we have already said, is the gift
of heaven •, and it is an endowment which we cannot
even make use of whenever we please. We would ra¬
ther say, therefore, that invention consists in producing,
in works of genius, that which is unexpected; an ob¬
ject, a harmony, a perfection, a thought, an expression
of which we had no idea, that we could not foresee, nor
hope to find, where the artist has so happily placed it,
and where we perceive it with delight. This idea ap¬
pears applicable to such of the polite arts as afl’ect the
mind by the hearing as well as by the sight, and it is
a matter that is highly essential.
The second rule is. That every artist ought inces¬
santly to labour in the improvement of his taste; in
acquiring that sensible, refined, and clear discernment,
by which he will be enabled to distinguish the real
beauties in each object, the ornaments that are agree¬
able to it, and the proportions and relations that subsist
among the several parts : and by this faculty, he will
be regulated in the employment of his natural talents.
This labour consists not only in the profound reflections
he will make on the properties of objects, as they relate
to the fine arts, but also in a constant, assiduous study
of the grand models of beauty.
The third rule to be observed in the practice of the
tion oi na- p0]Jte arts, is the imitation of nature. Every object in
the universe has its peculiar nature, of which the artist
should never lose sight in his manner of treating it. In
vain will he otherwise ornament his work with the most
refined and most brilliant strokes ; for, if nature be not
justly imitated, it will for ever remain imperfect. The
sublime Homer has sometimes sinned against this rule :
for, as the gods have a nature peculiar to themselves,
it cannot be a just imitation when we attribute to them
Arts.
19
2d Rule,
Improve¬
ment of
taste.
20
3d, Imita-
passions that are scarcely pardonable in mortals, and
make them frequently converse in a language that is
at once vulgar and ridiculous. It was not to imitate
nature, to put in the mouth of a hero, at the moment
of a decisive battle, a harangue that must become te¬
dious by its excessive length, and which certainly
could not have been heard by the thousandth part of
a numerous army: but we have already touched upon
some of the faults that are strewed over the poems of
that great man 5 to multiply or dwell upon them would
be ungrateful. We must, however, observe that this
imitation of nature, which appears at first view so
simple and so easy, is of all things the most difficult
in practice •, and that it requires a discernment so sa¬
gacious, and an expression so happy, as is rarely be¬
stowed by heaven on mortal man. 2I
Perspicuity forms the fourth rule of expression. 4th, Per-
In all the fine arts, in general, an obscure, perplex-spicuity.
ed, ambiguous, and elaborate expression, is always
bad. The true striking beauty must be manifest and
perceptible to the most ignorant of mankind as well as
the most leaimed. Those are even false or inferior
beauties that have occasion for a covering, a kind of
veil that may make them appear greater than they
really are: true beauty wants no veil, but shines by
its native lustre. From the union of the true imita¬
tion of nature with perspicuity of expression arises
that truth which is so essential in the productions of
the fine arts. 2i
In all the polite arts, and in all the subjects they 5th, Elers-
embrace, there must necessarily reign an elevation oftjon of sen-
sentiment, that expresses each object in the greatesttiment*
perfection of which it is susceptible ; that imitates na¬
ture in her most exalted beauty. This makes the fifth
general rule. The design of the fine arts being to ex¬
cite pleasure by the expression of that which is beauti¬
ful, every artist should raise himself above his subject;
and, choosing the most favourable light wherein to
place it, should there embellish it with the greatest,
most noble, and beautiful ornaments, that his own ge¬
nius can suggest; still, however, observing a strict imi¬
tation of nature.
From the observation of these two last rules results Atli, The
the sublime, which is the union of the greatest perspi- sublime to
cuity with the strictest truth and most exalted e^eva'^eH^^e*f
tion possible. It is necessary to remark here, that the^j.
most simple and common subjects are susceptible of a
sublime that is agreeable to their nature. An idyl or
landscape may be as sublime in their kinds as an epic
poem or a history piece. When Moses begins the book
of Genesis, with these words, In the beginning God
created the heaven and the earth ; or when he tells us,
that God said, Let there be light, and there was light;
these expressions are sublime in the highest degree, be¬
cause they are perfectly clear, true, and elevated. E-
very author should therefore endeavour after the su¬
blime * in every subject that he undertakes ; and this* gee
makes the sixth and last general rule in the practice ofarticle
the polite arts. But if he cannot attain to this, it is,Gkakdecr
however, indispensably necessary that he constantlyan^, U 1
make use of expressions that are noble and rejined.
Every thing that is low, indecent, or disagreeable, is
naturally repugnant to the sublime. See the articles
Arts, Fine, and Drama, in the Supplement.
• Art
Art
Artaserxes
ART [ 697
Art is also an appellation given to several supersti¬
tious practices, as, St Anselm's art, St Paul's art, &c.
Art and Part, in Scots Law. See Accessory.
ARTA, by some called Larta, a town of Lower
Albania, in Turkey in Europe, with a Greek arch¬
bishop’s see. It is a pretty large town, and contains,
according to Mr Hobhouse, about 5000 inhabitants, of
which less than a fourth are Mahometans. It had for¬
merly a castle, but this has been suffered to fall to de¬
cay. Arta is situated at the distance of seven or eight
miles from the gulf to which it gives name. The neigh¬
bouring. grounds produce grapes, tobacco, oats, and
maize ; and there is some little trade in wool, cotton,
cloths, &c. E. Long. 21. 15. N. Lat. 39. 20.
ARTARA, an ancient measure of capacity used by
the Persians, Modes, and Egyptians.
The Persian artaba is represented by Herodotus as
bigger than the Attic medimnus by three Atic choe-
nixes : from which it appears that it was equal to 6|
Roman modii ; consequently that it contained 1667
pounds of wine or water, or 126-f- pounds of wheat.
The Egyptian artaba contained live Roman modii, and
fell short of the Attic medimnus by one modius j conse¬
quently held 133I pounds of water or wine, 100 pounds
of wheat, or 60 of flour.
ARTABANUS, the name of several kings of Par-
thia. See Parthia.
ARTABAZUS, the son of Pharnaces, command¬
ed the Parthians and Chorasmians in the famous expe¬
dition of Xerxes. After the battle of Salamis, he
escorted the king his master to the Hellespont with
60,000 chosen men and after the battle ofPlataea, in
which Mardonius engaged contrary to his advice, he
made a noble retreat, and returned to Asia with 40,000
men under his command.
ART AX AT A, the royal residence and metro¬
polis of Armenia Major (Strabo, Pliny, Juvenal),
and built according to a plan of Hannibal, for King
Artaxias, after whom it was called. It was situated
on an elbow of the river Araxes, which formed a kind
of peninsula, and surrounded the town like a wall, ex¬
cept on the side ©f the isthmus, but this side wras se¬
cured by a rampart and ditch. This town was deem¬
ed so strong, that Lucullus, after having defeated Ti-
granes, durst not lay siege to it j but Pompey com¬
pelled him to deliver it up without striking a blow. It
then levelled with the ground; but the Armeni-
]
ART
ans have a tradition, that the ruins of it are still to be
seen at a place called Ardachat. Sir John Chardin
says, that it has the name of Ardachat from Artaxias,
whom in the East they call Ardechier. Here are the
remains of a stately palace which the Armenians take
to be that of Tiridates who reigned in the time of
Constantine the Great. One front of this building is
but half ruined, and there are many other fine antiqui¬
ties which the inhabitants call Tact Tradat, that is,
the throne of Tiridates. Tavernier also mentions the
ruins of Artaxata between Erivan and Mount Ararat,
but does not specify them. The ancient geographers
mention another city of the same name, likewise si¬
tuated on the Araxes, but in the northern part of Me¬
dia, known among the ancients by the name of Acro-
patia.
ARTAXERXES, the name of several kings of Per¬
sia. See Persia.
Vol. II. Part II. f
ARTEDI, Peter, an eminent naturalist, was born
in Sweden in the year 1705, in the province of An-
germania. Although his parents were poor, yet it
appears they found means to give him a liberal educa¬
tion, and with this view they sent him to the college
of Hurnesand. Intending to embrace the ecclesiastical
profession, he went in 1724 to Upsal ; but being fond
of the study ol natural history, he yielded to the bent
of inclination, and directed his attention towards me¬
dicine. In natural history he made rapid progress, and
soon arose to considerable eminence, particularly in the
knowledge of Ichthyology. His reputation for natural
knowledge was high when Linnaeus arrived at Upsal in
the year 1728. A lasting friendship was formed between
these two great men. Confining his botanical studies to
the umbelliferous plants, he suggested a new mode of
classification ; but Artedi was much better acquainted
with chemistry than botany. His attention was chiefly
directed to ichthyology, the classification of which be
greatly reformed, and new-modelled upon philosophi¬
cal principles. This arrangement added greatly to
bis reputation as a naturalist. When the two friends
were about to leave Upsal, Linnaeus to go to Lapland,
and Artedi to England, they reciprocally bequeathed
to each other their manuscripts and books upon the
event of death. In the year 1735, they, however,
met again at Leyden, where Artedi was introduced to
Seba, and employed in preparing for the press the
third volume of that eminent naturalist’s Thesaurus,
which chiefly related to fishes. Artedi formed the
resolution, as soon as that work was finished, to return
to his native country, to publish the fruits of his own
labours ; but unfortunately as be was returning home
from Seba’s bouse on the evening of September 27.
1735, the night being dark, he fell into the canal and
was drowned. According to agreement, his manu¬
scripts came into the hands of Linnaeus, and he pub¬
lished his Bibliotheca Ichthyologica, and Philosophia
Ichthyologica, together with a life of the author, at
Leyden in the year 1738. (Gen. Biog.).
ARTEDIA. See Botany Index.
ARTEMIDORUS, famous for his Treatise on
Dreams. He was born at Ephesus, but took upon him
the surname of Daldianus in his book, by way of
respect to bis mother country Daltis. He styled him¬
self the Ephesian in his other performances. He not
only bought up all that had been written concerning
the explication of di'eams, which amounted to many
volumes ; but he likewise spent many years in travel¬
ling, in order to contract an acquaintance with for¬
tune-tellers ; he also carried on an extensive correspon¬
dence with all the people of this sort in the cities and
assemblies of Greece, Italy, and the most populous
islands; collecting at the same time all the old dreams,
and the events which are said to have followed them.
The work which he wrote on dreams consisted of five
books: the first three were dedicated to one Cassius
Maximus ; and the last two to his son, whom he took
a good deal of pains to instruct in the nature and inter¬
pretation of dreams. This work, though filled with
frivolous observations, contains some things that are
interesting. It was first printed in Greek at Venice in
1518 ; and Rigaltius published an edition at Paris, in
Greek and Latin, in 1603, and added some notes. Ar-
temidorus wrote also a treatise upon Auguries, and an-
4 T other
Artedi
11
Artemi-
dorus.
*-~~v—*
A B T [ 698 ] A B T
Artemi- other upon Chiromancy ; but they are not extant. He
dorus lived under the emperor Antoninus Pius.
Artemi si ARTEMISIA, wife of Mausolus, king of Caria,
unu has immortalized herself by the honours which she paid
u—y—to the memory of her husband. She built for him in
Halicarnassus, a very magnificent tomb, called the
Mausoleum, which was one of the seven wonders of the
world, and from which the title of Mausoleum was af¬
terwards given to all tombs remarkable for their
grandeur; but she died of regret and sorrow before
the Mausoleum was finished. She appointed panegy¬
rics to be made in honour of him, and proposed a prize
of great value for the person who should compose the
best. He died about the end of the 106th Olympiad,
351 years before the Christian era.
Artemisia, queen of Caria, and the daughter of
Ligdamis, marched in person in the expedition of
Xe rxes against the Greeks, and performed wonders in
the sea-fight near Salamis, 48c years before the Chris¬
tian era. Being pursued by an Athenian vessel, she
attacked one of the Persian ships, commanded by X)e-
masithymus, king of Calyndus, her enemy, and sunk
it ; on which the Athenians, thinking that her ship
was on the side of the Greeks, ceased their pursuit $
but Xerxes was the principal person imposed upon in
this a flair ^ for believing she had sunk an Athenian
vessel, he declared, that “ the men had behaved like
women, and the women like men.” Xerxes intrusted
her with the care of the young princes of Persia, his
sons, when, agreeably to her advice, he abandoned
Greece, in order to return to Asia. These great qua¬
lities did not secure her from the weakness of love :
she was passionately fond of a man of Abydos, 'whose
name was Dardanus, and was so enraged at his neglect
of her, that she put out Ins eyes while he was asleep.
The gods in order to punish her for this, inspired her
with a still stronger passion for him 5 so that the oracle
having advised her to go to Leucas, which was the
usage of desperate lovers, she took the leap from
thence, and was interred at that place.—Many writers
confound this Artemisia with the former, the tvife of
Mausolus.
Artemisia, Mugwort, Southernwood, and Worm¬
wood. See Botany Index.
ART EMISIUM, in Ancient Geography, a promon¬
tory on the north-east of Euboea, (called Leon and
Cole Acte by Ptolemy), memorable for the first sea en¬
gagements between the Greeks and Xerxes.
I he Grecian fleet was stationed in the harbour ;
while that of the Persians, too numerous for anv har¬
bour to contain, had anchored in the road that extends
between the city of Castanaea and the promontory of
Sepias, on the coast of Thessaly.
The first line of their fleet was sheltered by the coast
of Thessaly; but the other lines, to the number of
seven, lode at anchor, at small intervals, with the prows
of the vessels turned to the sea. When they adopted
this arrangement, the waters were smooth, the sky
cleai, the weather calm and serene 1 but on the morn¬
ing of the second day after their arrival on the coast,
the sky began to lower; the appearance of the hea¬
vens grew threatening and terrible; a dreadful storm
succeeded, and for three days raged with unabating
fury. Four hundred galleys were destroyed by its vio-
1;
lence, besides a vast number of storeships and transports. Artemisi.
Eight hundred ships of war, however, besides innume- uni.
rable vessels of burden, sailed into the Pegasean bay, 1J
and anchored in the road of Aphete, which at the di¬
stance of a few miles, lies directly opposite to the har¬
bour of Artemisium.
^ The Grecians had posted centinels on the heights of ^rom Gi,
Euboea to observe the consequence of the storm, and lies's Hi-'
to watch the motions of the enemy. When informed of story of
the disaster which had befallen them, they poured out^r^e£,e*
a joyous libation, and sacrificed with pious gratitude,
to “ Neptune the Deliverer.”
The Persians, however, being recovered from the
terrors of the storm, prepared for battle ; and as they
entertained not the smallest doubt of conquering, they
detached 200 of their best sailing vessels round the isle
of Euboea, to intercept the expected flight of the ene¬
my through the narrow Euripus.
About sunset the Grecian fleet approached in a line;
and the Persians met them with the confidence of vic¬
tory, as their ships were still sufficiently numerous to
surround those of their opponents. At the first signal
the Greeks formed into a circle, at the second they be¬
gan the fight. Though crowded into a narrow com¬
pass, and having the enemy on every side, they soon
took 30 of their ships, and sunk many more. Night
came on, accompanied with an impetuous storm of
rain and thunder ; the Greeks retired into the harbour
of Artemisium; the enemy were driven to the coast of
Thessaly.
By good fortune, however, rather than by design,
the greatest part of the Persian fleet escaped immediate
destruction, and gained the Pegasean bay ; but the
ships ordered to sail round Euboea met with a more
dreadful disaster. They were overtaken by the storm,
after they had adventured further from the shore than
tvas usual with the wary mariners of antiquity. Clouds
soon intercepted the stars, by which alone they direct¬
ed their course ; and after continuing during the great¬
est part of the night the sport of the elements, they all
perished miserably amidst the shoals and rocks of an un¬
known coast.
The morning arose with different prospects and hopes
to the Persians and the Greeks. To the former it
discovered the extent of their misfortunes ; to the
latter it brought a reinforcement of 53 Athenian
ships. Encouraged by this favourable circumstance,
they determined again to attack the enemy, at the
same hour as on the preceding day, because their
knowledge of the coast and their skill in fighting their
ships rendered the dusk peculiarly propitious to their
designs. At the appointed time, they sailed towards
the road of Aphete ; and having cut off the Cilician
squadron from the rest, totally destroyed it, and re¬
turned at night to Artemisium.-—The Persian com¬
manders being deeply affected with their repeated dis¬
asters, but still more alarmed at the much-dreaded re¬
sentment of their king, they determined to make one
vigorous effort for restoring the glory of their arms.
By art and stratagem, and under favour of the night,
the Greeks had hitherto gained many important advan¬
tages. It now belonged to the Persians to choose the
time for action. On the third day at noon, they sailed
forth iq the form of a crescent, which was still suf¬
ficiently
Arthur.
ART [ 699
Artertiisi- ficiently extensive to enfold the Grecian line. The
uni Greeks, animated by former success, were averse to
decline any offer of battle ; yet it is probable that their
^ admirals, and particularly Themistocles, would much
" rather have delayed it to a more favourable opportuni¬
ty. Kage, resentment, and indignation, supplied the de¬
fect of the barbarians in skill and courage. The battle
was longer, and more doubtful, than on any former oc¬
casion > many Grecian vessels were destroyed, five were
taken by the Egyptians, who particularly signalized
themselves on the side of the barbarians, as the Athe¬
nians did on that of the Greeks. The persevering va¬
lour of the latter at length prevailed, the enemy reti¬
ring, and acknowledging their superiority, by leaving
them in possession of the dead and the wreck. But the
victory cost them dear} since their vessels, particularly
those of the Athenians, were reduced to a very shatter¬
ed condition *, and their great inferiority in the number
and size of their ships, made them feel more sensibly
every diminution of strength.
Artemisium, a town of Oenotria, (Stephanus) : now
S. /4gat7ia, in the Hither Calabria, on the river Pisaurus,
or la Foglia, distant eight miles from the Tuscan sea.—
Another of the Contestani, in Spain, (Strabo) ; other¬
wise called Dianium : now Denia, on the sea coast of
Valencia.
ARTERIOTOMY, the opening an artery, with
design to procure an evacuation of blood. See Sur¬
gery.
ARTERY, in Anatomy, a conical tube or canal
which conveys the blood from the heart to all parts of
the body. See Anatomy.
ARTHRITIS, in Medicine, the Gout. See the
Index subjoined to Medicine.
ARTHRODIA, in Natural History, a genus of im¬
perfect crystals, found always in complex masses, and
forming long single pyramids, with very short and slen¬
der columns.
Arthrodia, in Anatomy, a species of articulation,
\vherein the flat head of one bone is received into a shal¬
low socket in the other. The humerus and scapula are
joined by this species of articulation.
ARTHUR, the celebrated hero of the Britons, is
said to have been the son of Uthor Pendragon king of
Britain, and to have been born in 501. His life is a
continued scene of wonders. It is said that he killed
four hundred and seventy Saxons with his own hand in
one day } and, after having subdued many mighty na¬
tions, and instituted the order of the Knights of the
Round Table, died A. D. 542, of wounds which he re¬
ceived in battle. The most particular detail of his story
and his exploits is that given by Geoflroy of Monmouth :
but the probable there is so blended with the marvel¬
lous and the extravagant, that not only the truth of the
whole, but even the reality of Arthur’s existence, has
been called in question.
In this controversy, Mr W hittaker has taken much
pains to vindicate the existence, and discriminate be¬
tween the real and the fabulous transactions, of the
British worthy. “ Many of the actions (he observes)
attributed to Arthur by the Welsh chronicles of Bri¬
tain, are as absurd in themselves as they are spurious
in their authority. Written, as those narratives were,
many centuries after the facts, and being merely the
authentic accounts of Arthur, embellished with the
History of
Manche¬
ster, vol. ii.
4th edit,
p. 31. et seq,
] ART
fictions and distorted by the perversions of folly ; they Arthur,
are inconsistent equally with the state of the times, and
the history of the continent and the island. And the
ignorance of the forgers, and the credulity of their
abettors, can be equalled only by the injudiciousness
and incredulity of the opponents to both. If some ac¬
counts of Arthur and Cunobeline in these histories be
certainly spurious, others are as certainly genuine.
And the relations of Suetonius, Dio, and Nennius, are
not to be rejected, because of the falsehoods which im¬
posture has grafted upon them, and absurdity admit¬
ted with them.
“ The existence of Arthur is evinced by that of the
fables, which have at once annihilated his actions and
his name with the misjudging critic. And the rea-
soner’s own arguments really turn against himself, and
demonstrate the point which they were intended to dis¬
prove. The annals of Wales have long laboured in
Arthur’s commendation. The Highlanders have long
had a poetical history of his exploits in their own lan¬
guage. The whole island is in traditionary possession of
his character; and 600 or 700 places within it are still
distinguished by his name.
“ The genuine actions of the chief are mentioned
by his own historians, with a modesty and conciseness
that is no bad argument of the truth, and with a par¬
ticularity of time and place that is a good evidence of
the facts. They are noticed by men, whom the death
of the hero had exempted from all temptation to flat¬
tery : they are recited by persons, whom a proximity
to the time had precluded from all possibility of mis¬
take : and they are attested by the best historical au¬
thority, writers who lived cotemporary with him, au¬
thors who conversed with his warriors, and historians
that wrote within a few years after him. He is spo¬
ken of as the honourable father of the British heroes
by the aged Llomarch, a writer actually cotemporary
with him, and some time resident at his court. One of
his greater actions is incidentally recorded by Taliessin,
an historical bard living under Maelwn Gwined, who
was a sovereign among the Britons in the days of Ar¬
thur, Gildas, and Llomarch. Another of his consider¬
able exploits is casually intimated by Myrdhin Wyhlt or
Merlinus Caledonius, who complains of the severe treat¬
ment which he himself received from Rydderch Hael,
a king cotemporary with Urien Reged, and engaged
with him in a war against the Saxons on the death of
Ida in 590. And all his actions are particularly reci¬
ted by Nennius.
“ In the Historia Britonum of this last author, Ar¬
thur’s victories over the Saxons are thus recorded.
The first battle wTas fought at the mouth of the river
which is denominated Glcm. The second, third, fourth,
and fifth, were upon another river, that is called Du-
glas, and lies in the region Linuis. The sixth was on
a stream, which bears the appellation of Bassos. The
seventh was in the wood of Celidon, that is, in Cat
Coit Celidon. The eighth was at Castle Gunnion ;
and the ninth was at the city ot the Legion. The
tenth was on the bank of the river Ribroit; the ele¬
venth at the hill Agned Cathregonion; and the twelfth
at Mount Badon. These twelve battles of Arthur are
described to us in the same manner as Vortimer’s three.
Only the general facts are mentioned, and only the
common names of places are recited, in both. And
4 T 2 . from
ART [ 700 ] ART
Arthur, from the whole air and aspect of the history, the re-
-V-——' markable conciseness with which the notices are given,
and the great ease with which the places are pointed
out, the detail appears to have been drawn up at the
distance only of a few years from the transactions, and
when these little references were sufficiently under¬
stood.”
Mr Whittaker proceeds to ascertain the scenes of
Arthur’s battles $ after which he gives a relation of
Ibtd. them with a surprising particularity. A severe critic
P- 34- °4* might be apt to say, as I)r Kippis observes, that it re¬
quires all our faith in the author’s judgment, as well
as in his ingenuity and learning, not to suspect that he
sometimes allows too much scope to fancy and conjec¬
ture. However, the whole of what he hath advanced
is singularly curious, and deserves peculiar attention
and consideration. And no one can help admiring the
penetration with which he hath formed such a regular
detail of facts, from the combined aid of history, ro¬
mance, and tradition. According to Mr Whittaker,
Arthur’s principal exploits were against the northern
Saxons, whilst he was only prince of the Silures, and
Ambrosius was the dictator, or pendragon of the Bri¬
tons. “ In a series probably of five campaigns, and
in a succession certainly of eleven victories, this great
commander had repelled the Saxons from the north of
Flavia, dislodged them'from all Maxima, and dispos¬
sessed them of all Valentia. And these were successes
so unchequered with misfortunes, so great in them¬
selves, and so beneficial to the public, that the name
of Arthur claims the first rank in the list of military,
and the better one of patriot, heroes.” The twelfth
battle of Arthur was fought in the south of England,
after he was elected to the pendragonship, against Cer-
dic the Saxon. “ This (says Mr Whittaker) was a
most extraordinary victory, and completes the circle
of Arthur’s military glories.” In the author’s ac¬
count of this prince’s conduct in peace, he asserts, that
“ Arthur saw that an appointment was wanted, which
should at once be a more regular and more honourable
signature of merit; by the certainty of the honour and
the greatness of the dignity, call out all the worth of
all the worthy in the nation, and collect it round
the throne of the pendragon. Accordingly he esta¬
blished a military order. It was the first that had ever-
been instituted in the island; audit has since been imi¬
tated by all the nations on the continent. By means
of this association, Arthur raised among the provinci¬
als a general glow of ingenuous heroism, the first spi¬
rit of chivalry that ever appeared in Europe ; that
manly and honourable gallantry of soul, which has
made him and his worthies the subject of romantic
histories over all the west of it. By this, and this
aione, could he have been what history represents him,
the Revered Father of the British.Heroes in general,
even to the conclusion of the sixth century, and nearly
the middle of the seventh. The order naturally sur¬
vived its founder. And the members of it were deno¬
minated the Warriors of Arthur, though the persons
were born half a century after his death.” Mr Whit¬
taker goes on to inform us, that under the prudent
management of Arthur for 20 years together, a fair
prospect dawned upon the Britons, and long scenes of
future glories opened to their imaginations. “ But the
gay vision was destroyed at once by the commence-
2
ment of a civil war. Many towns still remained in Arthur’
ruins, the memorial of the former wars, and the disgrace Seat.*
of the present. I he diffused spirit of chivalry was turn- t—
ed upon the nation, and heroism became the tool of dis¬
sension. And the dreadful combination of civil evils
was begun and consummated, at once, by the death of
the renowned Arthur in battle. Thus died the incom¬
parable hero in 542.”
To these observations it may not be improper to add
the following account of the discovery of Arthur’s
tomb, which appears to be tolerably well authenticated.
Henry II. who was the first of the Plantagenet line,
being, in the last year of his reign, at Pembroke, and
hearing there a Welsh bard singing to his harp the
story of Arthur, concluding with an account of his
death, and burial in the churchyard of Glastonbury
between two pyramids ; the king instantly gave orders
that the matter should be inquired into, and the body
dug up. This was done as the king directed ; and at
the depth of seven feet was found a vast stone,, where¬
on was fastened a leaden cross, with this inscription on
the inside: Ilw Jacet Sepultus Inclytus Rex Arturius in
Insula Avalonia ; i. e. “ Here lies the famous King Ar¬
thur, buried in the isle of Avalon.” Digging^ still
lower, they found the king’s body in the trunk of a
tree, his beautiful queen lying by him, with long flow¬
ing hair, in colour bright as gold, which, however, sunk
into dust when touched. The king’s bones were very
large sized ; and in his skull there were ten wounds or
more, all cicatrized, except that of which he died.
This discovery was made in the year 1189, as Giraldus
Cambrensis tells us, who saw these bones, and examined
the whole matter carefully. There was also a table con¬
taining this story, set up in the monastery of Glastonbu¬
ry, and the leaden cross with the inscription remained
there till the dissolution of the monastery, where it was
seen by the great antiquary LeJhnd; but what is become
of it since does not appear.
Of the different places above alluded to as being di¬
stinguished by our hero’s name, and serving to evince
his existence, the following may be mentioned as one of
the principal.
Arthur’s Seat, a high hill in the neighbourhood
of Edinburgh, said to have been so denominated fl ora
a tradition that King Arthur surveyed the country
from its summit, and had also defeated the Saxons in
its neighbourhood. This hill rises by a steep and rug¬
ged ascent, till it terminates in a rocky point near 700
feet high from the base, being more than double the
height of the cross on the top of St Paul’s, London,
which is 340 feet. On the south it is in many parts
a perpendicular rock, composed of basaltic pillars re¬
gularly pentagonal or hexagonal, about three feet in
diameter, and from 40 to 50 feet in height. Conti¬
guous upon the west, and partly connected with it at
the base, are Salisbury Crags, of inferior height, but
exhibiting an appearance equally singular and grand.
They present to the city an awful front of broken
rocks and precipices, forming a sort of natural amphi¬
theatre of solid rock ; and backward from the craggy
verge above, the hill forms an extensive irregular slope,
the surface affording pasture to numerous llock^ of
sheep. The crags, besides ores, spars, rock plants,
and here and there, it is said, some precious stones,
afford an inexhaustible supply of stone for paving the
streets
ART
Arthur’s streets anil other purposes. In quarrying, a part of the
Seat crags has-been worn down into a spacious shelf, having
|| the appearance of a lofty terrace, and stretching a con-
Article. s|c|erable length. From hence is a near and distinct
prospect of the city, with its environs and the adjacent
country. But from the pinnacle called Arthur’s Seat
the view is more noble and extensive. The traveller
may here sit and survey at his ease the centre of the
kingdom, besides having a complete view of Edinburgh
and its castle, on which he looks down as if seated
among the clouds. In a word, the German ocean, the
whole course of the Forth, the distant Grampians, and
a large portion of the most populous and best cultivated
part of Scotland, form a landscape sublime, various,
and beautiful.
The denomination of this hill, derived as above, has
been adduced as an argument against those who dis¬
pute the existence of the British Arthur. That deri¬
vation, however, though probable, is not without un¬
certainty. For Arthur"1 s Seat is said to be derived, or
rather corrupted, from A^rd SefU, a “ place or field of
arrows,” where people shot at a mark : And this not
improperly j for among these cliffs is a dell or recluse
valley, where the wind can scarcely reach, now called
the limiter's Bog, the bottom of it being a morass.
The adjacent crags are supposed to have taken their
name from the earl of Salisbury, who in the reign of
Edward III. accompanied that prince in an expedition
against the Scots.
ARTICHOKE. See Cinara, Botany Index.
ARTICLE, a clause or condition of a contract,
treaty, &c. It is also a small part or division of a dis¬
course, book, or writing.
Article of Heath, the last pangs or agony of one
just expiring.
Article of Faith, is by some defined a point of
Christian doctrine, which we are obliged to believe, as
having been revealed by God himself, and allowed and
established as such by the church.
The thirty-nine articles were founded, for the most
part, upon a body of articles compiled and published
in the reign of Edward VI. They were first passed in
the convocation, and confirmed by royal authority in
the year 1562. They were afterwards ratified anew
in tbe year 1571, and again by Charles I. The law
requires a subscription to these articles of all persons
ordained to be deacons or priests, 13 Eliz. cap. 12. ; of
all clergymen inducted to any ecclesiastical living, by
the same statute •, and of licensed lecturers and curates,
13 Eliz. cap. 12. and 13 and 14 Ch. II. cap. 4. of the
heads of colleges, of chancellors, officials, and commis¬
saries, and of schoolmasters. By 1 Will. III. cap. 12.
dissenting teachers are to subscribe all, except the 34tb>
35th, and 36th, and part of the 20th (and in the case
of Anabaptists, except also part of the 27th) j other¬
wise they are exempted from the benefits of the act of
toleration.
Article, in Grammar, denotes a particle used in
most languages for the declining of nouns, and denot¬
ing the several cases and genders thereof.
The use of articles arises chiefly hence, that in lan¬
guages which have no different terminations, to ex¬
press the different states and circumstances of nouns,
there is something required to supply that office.
The Latins have no articles 3 but the Greeks, and
ART
most of the modern languages, have had recourse to Artiute
them, for fixing and ascertaining the vague signification II
of common and appellative names. Artificer.
The Greeks have their «, the eastern tongues their v ~
he emphaticum; the Italians their il, lo, and la; the
French their le, la, and les; the Germans their der,
das, dat.
1 he English also have two articles, a and the;
which being prefixed to substantives, apply their ge¬
neral signification to some particular things.
Some grammarians make the article a distinct part
of speech 3 others will have it a pronoun, and others
a noun adjective. See Grammar.
Articles are of great service in a language, as they
contribute to the more neat and precise expressing of
several properties and relations, which must otherwise
be lost. And hence one great advantage of such
languages over the Latin, in that the article being ei¬
ther expressed or left out, makes an alteration in the
sense, which the Latins cannot distinguish. Thus
when the devil said to our Saviour, Si tu es Filius del,
it may either be understood, “ if thou art a son of
God,” or, “ if thou art the son of God.” The Ita¬
lians even prefix articles to proper names, which do
not naturally need any, because they themselves signi¬
fy things individually. Thus, they say, il Ariosto, il
Tasso, il Petrarcha. Even the French join the article
to the proper names of kingdoms, provinces, &c. as
la Suede, la Normandie. And we likewise annex it to
the names of certain mountains and rivers 3 as, the
Rhine, the JDanube, the Alps, &c.
ARTICULATE SOUNDS, are such sounds as ex¬
press the letters, syllables, or words of any alphabet
or language ; such are formed by the human voice,
and by some few birds, as parrots, &c.
ARTICULATION, or Jointing, is the joining of
bones together. See Anatomy.
Articulation, in Botany, is the connexion of
parts that consist of joints or knees, such as the pods of
French honeysuckles, which when ripe divide into so
many parts as there are knees or joints 3 also those
parts of plants which swell into nodes or joints, and
which usually send forth branches.
ARTIFICER, a person whose employment it is to
manufacture any kind of commodity, as in iron, brass,
wool, &c. such are smiths, brasiers, carpenters, &c.
The Roman artificers had their peculiar temples, where
they assembled and chose their own patron, to defend
their causes 3 thev were exempted from all personal
services. Taruntenus Paternus reckons 32 species of
artificers, and Constantine 35, who enjoyed this privi¬
lege. The artificers were incorporated into divers col¬
leges or companies, each of which had their tutelar
gods, to whom they offered their worship. Several of
these, when they quitted their profession, hung up their
tools, a votive offering to their gods. Artificers were
held a degree below merchants, and argentarii or mo¬
ney-changers, and their employment more sordid.
Some deny, that in the earliest ages of the Roman state
artificers were ranked in the number of citizens:
others, who assert their citizenship, allow that they
were held in contempt, as being unfit for war, and so
poor that they could scarcely pay any taxes. For which
reason they were not entered among the citizens in the
censor’s books 3 the design of the census being only to
see
[ 701 ]
ART [ 702 ] ART
Artitterv.
Artificer see "'hat number of persons were yearly fit to bear
arms, and to pay taxes towards the support of the state.
It may be added, that much of the artificers business
■" was done by slaves and foreigners, who left little for
the Romans to mind but their husbandry and war. By
means of the arts, the minds of men are engaged in in¬
ventions beneficial to the whole community $ and thus
prove the grand preservative against the barbarism and
brutality, which ever attend on an indolent and inac¬
tive stupidity.
By the English laws, artificers in wool, iron, steel,
brass, or other metal, going out of the kingdom into
any foreign country without license, are to be impri¬
soned three months, and fined in a sum not exceeding
one hundred pounds. And such as going abroad, and
not returning on warning given by our ambassadors,
Sec. shall be disabled from holding lands by descent or
devise, from receiving any legacy, &c. and be deemed
aliens. Stat. 5. Geo. I. cap. 27. By 23 Geo. II. cap.
I3* § !• penalty is also inflicted on seducing artificers
to go abroad. Ramazini has a treatise on the diseases
of artificers.
ARTIFICIAL, in a general sense, denotes some¬
thing made, fashioned, or produced by art, in contra¬
distinction from the production of nature.
Artificial is also frequently used for factitious.
Thus we have artificial sal ammoniac, artificial borax,
&c.
Artificial Fire-rvorks are compositions of inflam¬
mable materials, chiefly used on solemn occasions, by
ivay of rejoicing. See Pyrotechny.
Artificial Lightning. See Electricity and
Lightning.
Artificial Lines, on a sector or scale, are certain
lines so contrived, as to represent the logarithmic sines
and tangents j which, by the help of the line of num¬
bers, will solve all questions in trigonometry, naviga¬
tion, &c. pretty exactly.
Artificial Magnets. See Magnets.
ARTIGI, indeclinable, (Pliny); Artigis, (Ptolemy);
a town of the Turduli, in Bsetica. Now Alhama.
ARTILLERY, in its general sense, denotes the
offensive apparatus of war, particularly of the missile
kind. Among the French the term was anciently ap¬
propriated to Archery. In its modern acceptation it
signifies fire-arms, mounted on their carriages and rea¬
dy for action, with their balls, their bombs, their gre¬
nades, &c.
It we take the term in a more extensive meaning, it
includes the powder, the matches, instruments for
fire-works, the utensils of ordnance, the machines
which facilitate their motion and transport them, the
vehicles over which they traverse rivers, every thing
necessary to them, and all that enters into the form of
a train of artillery.
The same word, still farther extended in its mean¬
ing, likewise comprehends the men destined for the ser¬
vice of the artillery ; the people who provide the artil¬
lery with materials and implements when engaged, the
cannoniers, the bombardiers, the officers of every rank,
and engineers of every kind.
By artillery is likewise understood the science which
the officers of artillery ought to possess. This science
teaches to know the nature of all the materials and
ingredients which enter into the composition and the
structure of every thing relative to the artillery, such
as nitre, sulphur, charcoal ; the properties of air and
fire 5 the composition and preparation of gunpowder j
the materials for fire-works •, the construction, propor¬
tions, &c. of the different warlike machines ; the ar¬
rangement, movement, and whole management, of
cannon, &c. in the field or in sieges, in such manner,
that each of them, according to the length of its tube
and the diameter of its bore, may be situated in the
best place and at the properest distance for execution,
and that the whole train taken together may recipro¬
cally assist and support each other with the greatest ad¬
vantage.
_ Artillery has undergone many changes from its ori¬
gin to the present time. The artillery of the ancients
were the catapults, the balistae, the different kinds of
slings, &c. In latter ages, the Franks used the hatchet
as a missile weapon, throwing it in the same manner as
the Americans do theirs called the tomahawk. The
Gascons and Genoese were excellent cross-bow men.
The Swiss owed their victories to their strength and
skill in the use of the pike, halberd, and espadon or
two-handed sword ; and the victories of Cressy, Poic-
tiers, and Agincourt, will occasion the valour and skill
of the English archers to be transmitted down to latest
posterity. See Archery.
The chevalier Folard was extremely attached to the
ancient machines first mentioned, and seemed even to
prefer them to our fire-arms ; an opinion which must
appear not a little extraordinary from such a person.
Father Daniel might well be mistaken in the compari¬
son which he made between the effects of ancient and
modern artillery, and in his conclusion that the latter
was of little use : the situation of this good father re¬
moved him from the scenes of war and the opportuni¬
ties of military experience. But it is astonishing, that
one so learned in the military art as the commentator
of Polybius, who had ocular demonstration of the suc¬
cess of modern artillery, should have declared so vio¬
lently against it. Whatever be the case with these
authors and their maxims, it may be asserted that can¬
non is one of the most singular discoveries which have
been made amongst men 5 and by little and little it has
changed the whole art of war, and of consequence in¬
fluenced the whole system of policy in Europe. The
era of artillery is dated from the battle of Cressy in
1346, because it is only from that day that cannon
were mentioned in battle. Edward III. of England
successfully employed some pieces of artillery placed in
the front of his army. The invention of artillery was
then known in France as well as in England; but pro¬
bably Philip VI. marched with so much hurry and pre¬
cipitation to attack his enemy, that he left his cannon
as useless encumbrances behind him. The ignorance
of that age in mechanical arts considerably retarded the
progress of artillery ; and that of which they were then
possessed was so unwieldy and imperfect, that they
could not possibly discern its importance and efficacy-
in practice.
After the invention of gunpowder, the Spaniards
were the first who armed part of their foot with mus¬
kets and harquebusses, and mixed them with the pikes.
In this they were soon imitated by most other nations ;
though the English had not entirely laid aside their fa¬
vourite weapon the long bow, and generally taken to
the
Artillery,
ART [ 703 ] ART
Artillery, the use of fire-arms, during the reign of Queen Eliza-
' belli.
The first muskets were very heavy, and could not be
fired without a rest: they had matchlocks, and barrels
of a wide bore, that carried a large ball and charge of
powder, and did execution at a great distance. The
musketeers on a march carried only their rests and am¬
munition ; and had boys to bear their muskets after
them, for which they were allowed great additional pay.
They were very slow in loading, not only by reason of
the unwieldiness of the pieces, and because they carried
the powder and balls separate, but from the time it took
to prepare and adjust the match ; so that their fire was
not near so brisk as ours is now. Afterwards a lighter
kind of matchlock musket came into use ; and they car¬
ried their ammunition in bandeliers, which were broad
belts that came over the shoulder, to which were hung
several little cases of wood covered with leather, each
containing a charge of powder : the balls they carried
loose in a pouch, and they had also a priming horn
hanging by their side. Matchlocks were, about the be¬
ginning of this century, universally disused in Europe,
and the troops were armed with firelocks ; to which,
much about the same time, the bayonet being added,
pikes also were laid aside ; which latter change, whe¬
ther it was for the better or not, is a point that still ad¬
mits of dispute among the best military writers, who are
divided in their opinions about it, though most of them
disapprove of it.
The old English writers call those large muskets ca-
livers; the harquebus was a lighter piece that could
be fired without a rest. The matchlock was fired by
a match, fixed by a kind of tongs in the serpentine or
cock, which by pulling the trigger was brought down
with great quickness upon the priming in the pan,
over which there was a sliding cover, which was drawn
back by hand, just at the time of firing. There was a
great deal of nicety and care required to fit the match
properly to the cock, so as to come down exactly true
on the priming, to blow the ashes from the coal, and
to guard the pan from the sparks that fell from it: a
great deal of time was also lost in taking it out of the
cock, and returning it between the fingers of the left
band, every time that the piece was fired ; and wet
weather often rendered the matches useless. However,
most writers allow that they were very sure, and less
apt to miss fire than the firelock.
The firelock is so called, from producing fire of it¬
self, by the action of the flint and steel. The most an¬
cient invention of this sort is the wheel lock, which we
find mentioned in Luigi Collado’s Treatise of Artillery,
printed at Venice, 1586, as then lately invented in
Germany. This sort of lock was used till within these
hundred years, especially for pistols and carabines. It
was composed of a solid steel wheel, with an axis, to
which was fastened a chain, which, by being wound
round it, drew up a very strong spring : on pulling the
trigger, the spring acting, whirled the wheel about
with great velocity, and the friction of the edge of it
(which was a little notched) against the stone produ¬
ced the fire the cock was made so as to bring the
stone upon the edge of the wheel, part of which was in
the pan, and touched the priming ; they used any com¬
mon hard pebble for that purpose, which served as well
as flint.
These locks were inconvenient, took time to wind up Artillery,
(or span, as they termed it), and sometimes would not > • y——
go oil ; an instance of which may be seen in Ludlow’s
Memoirs.
When the firelock, such as we now use, was invent¬
ed, we cannot ascertain 5 it is called by writers of about
the middle of the last century, a snaphane ox snap/iance,
which being the Dutch word for a firelock, seems to in¬
dicate that it is a Dutch invention, and that we took it
from them. But Ward, in his Animadversions of War,
printed in 1639, p. 502> after describing the exercise
of the firelock, pistol, and carabine (by which he means
the wheel-lock), says, that as most of our pieces go with
English locks, which differ from firelocks, he shall add
the method of handling them 5 and then gives the exer¬
cise of the snaphine carabine 5 by which it appears, that
there was little or no difference between that and the
pieces now in use. The more modern writers call it a
fusee from the French word fusil; whence the name of
fusileers is still continued to several of our regiments,
which wrere the first that were armed with them on the
disuse of matchlocks.
They used the musket and rest in England so late as
the beginning of the civil wars, as may be seen in Col.
Bariffe’s Young Artillery Man, printed at London,,
l643-
Figuera, in his embassy in 1518, relates, that the
Persians would neither make use of infantry nor of ar¬
tillery, because by them the impetuosity of attack and
the facility of retreat were equally encumbered and re¬
tarded : in these expedients alone their address and
their glory consisted. This method of advancing and
recalling is widely different from the present conduct
of war, as the artillery in armies is now prodigiously
multiplied, and must be transported to every place
where any body of troops whatever is destined to ope¬
rate.
The length and diameter of cannon has been much
diminished, which must likewise proportionably dimi¬
nish their weight. It is by long practice and expe¬
rience that they have discovered how much might be
deduced from their magnitude in both these respects
with propriety, without hurting the grand effects
which, on some occasions, it is necessary they should
produce, by rendering them more easy to be wielded,
which was the advantage pursued by lessening their size.
See further the articles Cannon, Gunnery, and Pro¬
jectiles.
Improvements, however, are still making, and will
probably long continue to be made, in these ignivomous
machines that mock the thunder, which, though they
seem to be invented for the destruction of the human
race and the subversion of empires, have yet by their
effects rendered war less savage and less sanguinary ;
political alliances have been more successfully concili¬
ated among all nations, conquests are become less fre¬
quent and less rapid, and successes in war have been
more easily reduced to calculation.
The change introduced in the military art by the j,yeailh
modern artillery, Dr Smith observes, has enhanced T^ntmns\
greatly both the expence of exercising and disciplining toI. iii.
any particular number of soldiers in time of peace, and p 7°*
that of employing them in time of war. Both their
arms and their ammunition are become more expensive.
A musket is a more expensive machine than a javelin
or.
ART' [ 704 ] ART
Artillery, or a bow and arrows 5 a cannon or a mortar, than a ba-
lista or a catapulta. The powder which is spent in a
modern review is lost irrecoverably, and occasions a very
< considerable expence. The javelins and arrows which
were thrown or shot in an ancient one, could easily be
lifted up again, and were besides of very little value.
The cannon and the mortar are not only much dearer,
hut much heavier machines than the balistaor catapulta,
and require a greater expeuce, not only to prepare them
for the field but to carry them to it. As the superio¬
rity of the modern artillery too over that of the ancients
is very great, it has become much more difficult, and
consequently much inore expensive, to fortify a town so
as to resist even for a few weeks the attack of that su¬
perior artillery.
In modern war the great expence of fire arms gives
an evident advantage to the nation which can best af¬
ford that expence •, and consequently, to an opulent and
civilized, over a poor and barbarous nation. In ancient
times, the opulent and civilized found it difficult to de¬
fend themselves against the poor and barbarous nations,
in modern times the poor and barbarous find it difficult
to defend themselves against the opulent and civilized.
The invention ol fire arms, an invention which at first
sight appears to be so pernicious, is certainly favourable
both to the permanency and to the extension of civiliza¬
tion.
It has to many appeared matter of surprise, that the
battles of the ancients should be described with an or¬
der, perspicuity, and circumstantial minuteness, which
are not to be found in the military writers of modern
times. Scholars have endeavoured to explain this dif¬
ference by observing the immense disproportion, in
point of dignity and abilities, betw’eeri the military hi¬
storians ol modern Europe and those of Greece and
Home. But .the difficulty will be better solved, Ur
Gillies thinks, by reflecting on the changes introduced
uito the art of war by the change of artillery; which,
in military operations, form the pivot on which the
whole turns. 1. From the nature of fire arms, modern
battles are involved in smoke and confusion. 2. From
the same cause, modern armies occupy a much greater
extent of ground, and begin to act at much greater
distances : which renders it more difficult to observe
and ascertain their manoeuvres. 3. The immense train
of artillery, ammunition,'&c. required in the practice
of modern war, gives a certain immobility to our ar¬
mies, which renders it impossible to perform, without
great danger, those rapid evolutions in sight of an ene¬
my, which so often decided the battles of the ancients,
ivith us, almost every thing depends on the judicious
choice of ground, a matter requiring great military ge¬
nius, but not admitting the embellishments of historical
description.
In the battles of the Greeks and Romans, the ex¬
traordinary disproportion between the numbers slain on
the side of the victors and the vanquished has been ob¬
served as another rertiarkable circumstance. But this
necessarily resulted from the nature of their arms. Their
principal weapons being not missile, but manual, armies
could not begin to act till they had approached so near
to each other, that the conquered found themselves
cut off from all possibility of retreat. In modern times,
such consequences seldom take place. The use of fire
arms (which often render the action itself more bloody),
furnishes the defeated party with various means of re- Artillery
treating with considerable safety. The sphere of mill- Artist
tary action is so widely extended in modern times, that
before the victors can run over the space which sepa¬
rates them from the vanquished, the latter may fall back,
. and proceed with little loss beyond their reach ; and
should any village, hedge, ravine, &c. be found in their
way, may often check the ardour of their pursuers.
Upon these considerations, the invention of gunpowder
and modern artillery may be said to have saved the effu¬
sion of human blood. Equestrian engagements (since
the principles on which cavalry act remain nearly the
same in every age) are still distinguished by similar
circumstances to those which appear so extraordinary
in the battles of antiquity.
Artillery Pai'k, the place in the rear of both lines
of an army, for encamping the artillery, which is drawn
up in lines, of which one is formed by the guns; the
ammunition waggons make two or three lines, 60 paces
behind the guns, and 30 distant from one another ;
the pontoons and tumbrils make the last line. The
whole is surrounded with a rope which forms the park : >
the gunners and matrosses encamp on the flanks ; and
the bombardiers, pontoon men, and artificers, in the
rear.
Artillery Train, a certain number of pieces of
ordnance, mounted on carriages, with all their furniture
fit for marching.
Artillery Company, a band of infantry, consisting
of 600 men, making part of the militia or city guard
of London.
ARTIST, in a general sense, a person skilled in
some art. Mr Harris defines an artist to be, “ A per¬
son possessing an habitual power of becoming the cause
of some effect, according to a system of various and
well-approved precepts.” See Art.
We are told* of a privilege granted at Vicenza to*
artists, like that of clergy in England ; in virtue there- Discimne •
of criminals adjudged to death save their lives if they of Medals,
can prove themselves the most excellent and consum-P- 237» &c-
mate workmen in any useful art. This benefit is allow¬
ed them in favorem artis, for the first offence, except
-in some particular crimes, of which coining'is one ; for
here the greater the artist, the more dangerous the
person.
Artist (Artisfa), in an academical sense, denotes a
philosopher or proficient in the faculty of arts.
In the early ages of universities, the seven liberal arts
completed the whole course of study, or philosophy, as
it is called : whence the masters of this faculty were
denominated artists. What they understood by the
liberal arts used to be summed up in the following
Latin verse.
Lingua,Tropus, Ratio, Numcrus,Tonus, Angulus, Astra.
Artist is more peculiarly used, by Paracelsus and
other adepts, for a chemist or alchemist. We find fre¬
quent mention, in authors of this class, of Elias Artista,
or Elias the artist, who is to come some time before
the dissolution of the world, and restore and make per¬
fect all arts and sciences, but especially the gold-mak¬
ing art; and usher in a truly golden age, or millen¬
nium. The lower and meaner things in this sublime
art, Paracelsus observes, God has permitted to be al¬
ready discovered j but for the greater and more im¬
portant
A R U [ 705 ] A R U
Artist portant matters, as the transmutation of other metals
|1 into gold, they are reserved to the coming of Elias the
Aruba, artist.
   ARTOBRtGA, a town of \indelicia (Ptolemy):
Now Altxburg, in Bavaria, on the Danube, below In-
goldstadt (Aventinus) : hut Cluverius supposes it to be
Lebanon, on the Saltzbacb, below Laulfen, in the arch¬
bishopric of Saltzburg.
ARTOCARPUS, the Bread-fruit tree. See
Botany Index.
ARTOIS, a late province of France, and one of the
finest and most fertile in the whole kingdom. Former¬
ly it was one of the 17 provinces of the Netherlands, but
now belongs entirely to France, and is included in the
department of the Straits of Calais. The names of Ar¬
tois, and Arras its capital, are derived from the Atre-
bates, a people of Gallia Belgica, mentioned by Ju¬
lius Caesar. Its greatest length from north to south
is about 24 leagues, and its breadth about 12, being
bounded to the south and west by Picardy, to the east
by Hainault, and to the north by Flanders. A con¬
siderable trade is carried on in the province in grain,
flax, hops, wool, and linen cloth. The most consider¬
able places in Artois are, Arras the capital, Bapaume,
Bethune, St Venant, and St Omer.
ARTOLICA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Salassii in Gallia Cispadana, at the foot of the Alps :
now called la Tuile by the inhabitants, a hamlet of Sa¬
voy, in the duchy of Aoust, at the foot of Mount St
Bernard the Less.
ARTOTYRITES, a Christian sect, in the primi¬
tive church, who celebrated the eucharist with bread
and cheese, saying, that the first oblations of men were
not only of the fruits of the earth, but of their flocks.
The word is derived from Ǥtos, bread, and yv;#?,
cheese.
The Artotyrites admitted women to the priesthood
and episcopacy •, and Epiphanius tells us, it was a com¬
mon thing to see seven girls at once enter into their
church, robbed in white, and holding a torch in their
hand 5 where they wept and bewailed the wretchedness
of human nature, and the miseries of this life.
ARAU, in Ancient Geography, a town of Bsetica,
in the jurisdiction of the Conventus Hispalensis: now
Alclea, a citadel of Andalusia, on the Bsetis or Guadal-
quiver, seven leagues above Seville.
ARVALES FRATRES, in Roman antiquity, a col¬
lege of 12 priests, instituted by Romulus, and chosen
out of the most noble families, himself being one of
that body: they assisted in the sacrifices of the amber-
valia annually offered to Ceres and Bacchus, for the
prosperity of the fruits of the earth ; when they wore
on their heads crowns made of ears of corn. The ori¬
ginal of this institution was as follows : Acca Lauren-
tia, Romulus’s nurse, was accustomed once a-year to
make a solemn sacrifice for a blessing on the fields, her
12 sons always assisting her in the solemnity; but at
last losing one of her sons, Romulus offered himself to
supply his place, and gave this small society the name
of Arvales fratres. This order was in great repute at
Rome : they held the dignity for life, and never lost
it upon account of imprisonment, banishment, or any
other accident.
ARUBA, a small uninhabited island on the coast of
Vol. II. Part II. f
Terra Firma, and situated in W. Long. 70. 20. N. Aruba
Lat. 12. 30. I)
ARUCI, in Ancient Geography, a town of the Cel- Arundel,
tici, in the north of Lusitania, (Antonine, Inscription), ■'"v——■
called also Arnci Novum, to distinguish it from the fol¬
lowing : Now supposed to be Moura, a small city of
Portugal, near the confluence of the Ardila and Gua-
dalquiver.
Aruci Veins, in Ancient Geography, a small city of
the Turdetani, in Bsetica, (Ptolemy) ; now Aroche, a
hamlet of Andalusia, on the confines of Portugal and
Estremadura, on the river Gama, seven leagues to the
east of Aruci Novum or Moura. From it a mountain,
in its neighbourhood, takes the name Arucitanus. Now
la Sierra de Aroche.
ARUCIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of Illyria,
in the inland parts of Liburnia, (Ptolemy). Now
Bregna, according to some ; but Ottoschat%, according
to others, a citadel of Morlachia.
ARVERNI, an appellation early used for the capi¬
tal of the Arverni, according to the custom of the latter
ages of naming towns from the people ; it was formerly
called Nemossus, (Strabo). The Arverni, a brave and
ancient people, and one of the most powerful nations of
Gaul, claimed affinity with the Romans, as descendants
from Antenor, (Lucan) : and after their conquest by
the Romans, their ancient liberty was preserved to them
on account of their bravery, (Pliny). Above 1000
years ago the town wms called Clarus Mans, from its si¬
tuation, (Valesius). Now Clermont, in Auvergne. E.
Long. 3. 20. N. Lat. 45. 42.
AR\TL supper, a feast or entertainment made at
funerals, in the north part of England. Arvil bread is
the bread delivered to the poor at funeral solemnities ;
and arvil, arval, arfal, are used for the burial or fune¬
ral rites ; as,
Come, bring my jerkin, Tibb, I’ll to the arvil;
Yon man’s dea scuy seoun, it makes me marvil.
Yorksh. Dial. p. 58.
ARYIRAGUS, an ancient British king who flou¬
rished in the time of the emperor Domitian. He gained
a complete victory over Claudius : but being soon after
besieged in the city of Winchester, he made a treaty
with the Romans, and married the emperor’s daughter
Genuissa. This monarch lived to a good old age : he
confirmed the ancient laws, enacted new ones, and li¬
berally rew&rded persons of merit.
ARUM, Wakerobin, or Cuckow-pint. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ARUNDA, a town of Hispania Bsetica, on the A-
nas jor Guadiana, (Ptolemy, Pliny) : Now said to be
Honda, in the province of Granada, on the confines of
Andalusia. W. Long. 5. 4c. N. Lat. 36. 26.
ARUNDEL, Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury
in the reigns of Richard II. Henry IV. and Henry V.
was the second son of Robert earl of Arundel and
Warren, and brother of Richard earl of Arundel, who
was beheaded. At 22 years of age, from being arch¬
deacon of Taunton he was raised to the bishopric of
Ely, the 6th of April 1375, in the reign of Edward
III. He was a great benefactor to the church and
palace of this see ; among other donations he gave a
curious table of massy gold, adorned with precious
4 U stones,
A R U [706] A R U
.Anindt'l. stones, which had been given to Prince Edward by
     the king ot Spain, and sold by the latter to Bishop A-
rundel. In 1386, he was appointed lord chancellor of
England ; two years after, he was translated to the see
of York; and, in 1396, was advanced to the archiepis-
copal see of Canterbury, when he resigned the chancel¬
lorship. This was the first instance of the translation
of an archbishop of York to the see of Canterbury.
Scarcely was he fixed in this see, when he had a con¬
test with the university of Oxford about the right of vi¬
sitation. The affair was referred to King Richard, who
determined it in favour of the archbishop. At his vi¬
sitation in London, he revived an old constitution, by
which the inhabitants of the respective parishes were
obliged to pay to their rector one halfpenny in the
pound out of the rent of their houses. In the second
year of his translation, a parliament being held at Lon¬
don, the commons with the king’s leave impeached
the archbishop, together with his brother the earl of
Arundel, and the duke of Gloucester, of high treason.
Hie archbishop was sentenced to be banished, and with¬
in forty days to depart the kingdom on pain of death.
He retired first to I ranee; and then to the court of
Rome, where Pope Boniface IX. gave him a kind re¬
ception. About this time the duke of Lancaster (af¬
terwards Henry IV.) was in France, having been ba¬
nished by King Richard. The nobility and others, tired
with the oppressions of Richard, solicited the duke to
take the crown. This their request they drew up in a
letter, and sent it over by faithful messengers to Arch¬
bishop Arundel, desiring him to be their advocate on
this occasion with the duke. The archbishop being a
fellow sufferer, gladly accepted the office ; and went
with the messengers to the duke at Paris, where they
delivered the letters from the nobles and commons of
England, and the archbishop seconded them with the
best arguments he could invent. The inviting offer,
after some objections which were easily obviated, the
duke accepted ; and upon his accession to the throne,
Arundel, who had returned with him to England, was
restored to his see. In the first year of this prince’s
reign, Arundel summoned a synod which sat at St
Paul’s. Ihe next year the commons moved that the re¬
venues of the church might be applied to the service of
the public ; but Arundel opposed the motion with such
vigour, that it was thrown aside. In the year 1408,
Arundel began to exert himself against the Lollards,
or \\ iekliffites; and his zeal for suppressing that sect
carried him to several unjustifiable severities against the
heads of it, particularly against Sir John Oldcastle and
Lord Cobham. He also procured a synodical constitu¬
tion, which forbade the translation of the Scriptures
into the vulgar tongue. This prelate died at Canter¬
bury, leb. 20. 1413, of an inflammation in his throat,
with which he was seized (as is pretended) whilst he
was pronouncing sentence upon Lord Cobham. The
Lollards asserted this to be a judgment from God ;
and indeed Bishop Goodwin speaks in the same manner,
saying, He who had withheld from the people the
word of God, the food of the soul, by the just judge¬
ment ol God had his throat so closed, that he could
not speak a single word, nor swallow meat or drink,
and was so starved to death.” He was buried in the
cathedral church of Canterbury, near the west end,
under a monument erected by himself in his lifetime.
a
lo this church he was a considerable benefactor; for Arundel
he built the lantern-tower and great part of the nave : Amnde-
gave a ring of five bells, called from him ArundePs han.
ruig, several rich vestments, a mitre enchased with
jewels, a silver gilt crosier, and two golden chalices.
Arundel, a borough and market town in Sussex,
seated on the north-west side of the river Arun, over
which there is a bridge. It has a harbour, capable of
receiving ships of 200 tons, and the navigation is con¬
tinued to the Thames by a canal. The river abounds
in mullet of a very fine quality. The castle, which
gives the title of earl to its possessors, is seated on the
east of the Tame, and is reputed to be a mile in com¬
pass. It sends two members to parliament ; and is 33
miles south-west-by-south of London, and ten miles east
of Chichester. Arundel is the premier earldom in
England, belonging to the illustrious family of Norfolk;
and is the only title in England that goes along with
the lands. W. Long. o. 23. N. Lat. 30. 43. Popu¬
lation 2700 in 1811.
Arundel Oil, in the Materia Medico. At Bom¬
bay, Gombroon, and Surat, in the East Indies, there
gr°ws a tree which bears a nut enclosed in a rough
husk, which resembles much the horse chesnut; and
the kernel of the nut yields an oil by expression, which
is of a purgative nature. A tea-spoonful of it is rec¬
koned a dose. The tree goes by the name of the arun-
del tree at Bombay, and its oil by that of the arundel
oil. Mr Sinclair, one of the surgeons belonging to the
royal regiment ol artillery, who was formerly surgeon
to an East India ship, gave Hr Monro of London a
small bottle full of this oil, which he said was much used
for the cure of the dysentery in India, and that he had
given it in four recent cases of dysentery with suc-
ces. Hr Monro thinks it probable that this is the oil
of the purging nuts mentioned in Hale’s Pbarmacologia,
which are got from the tree called lignum molucccnse,
pavana dictum, fructu avellance, J. B. 1. 342 ; and pi-
nus Indica, nucleo purgante, C. B. 492 ; and thepalma
Christi Indica, Tournefort Mat. Med.
ARUNHELIAN Marbles, Oxford Marbles,
or Parian Chronicle, are ancient stones (as has
been supposed), whereon is inscribed a chronicle of
the city of Athens, engraven in capital letters in the
island of Paros, one of the Cyclades, 264 years before
Jesus Christ. rI bey take their first name from Thomas
earl of Arundel, who procured them out of the East, or
from Henry his grandson, who presented them to the
university of Oxford.
The Arundelian marbles, in their perfect state, con¬
tained a chronological detail of the principal events
of Greece during a period of 1318 years, beginning
with Cecrops, be lore Christ 1382 years, and ending
with the archonship of Hiognetus, before Christ 264.
But the chronicle of the last 90 years is lost; so that
the part now remaining ends at the archonship of Hio-
timus, 334 years before the birth of Christ; and in this
fragment the inscription is at present so much corroded
and effaced, that the sense can only be discovered by
very learned and industrious antiquaries ; or, more pro¬
perly speaking, supplied by their conjectures.
This chronicle, and many other relicks of antiquity,
real or pretended, were purchased in Asia Minor, in
G reece, or in the islands of the Archipelago, by Mr
William Petty, who in the year 1624 was sent by
Thomas
Arande-
lian.
A H U f 707 ] A
Thomas earl of Arundel for the purpose of making cept this Very equivocal one
H U
such collections for him in the east. They were brought
’into England about the beginning of the year 1629,
and placed in the gardens belonging to Arundel house
in London.
Soon after their arrival they excited a general curio*
sity, and were viewed by many inquisitive and learned
men 5 among others by Sir Robert Cotton, who pre¬
vailed upon Selden to employ his abilities in explaining
the Greek inscriptions. Selden and two of his friends,
Patrick Young, or, as he styled himself in Latin, Pa~
tricius Junius, and Richard James, immediately com¬
menced their operations, by cleaning and examining
the marble containing the Smyrnean and Magnesian
league, and afterwards proceeded to the Parian chro¬
nicle. The following year Selden published a small
volume in quarto, including about 39 inscriptions co¬
pied from the marbles.
In the turbulent reign of Charles I. and the subse¬
quent usurpation, Arundel house was often deserted by
the illustrious ownersj and, in their absence, some of
the marbles were defaced and broken, and others either
stolen or used for the ordinary purposes of architecture.
The chronological marble, in particular, was unfortu¬
nately broken and defaced. The upper part, contain-
ing 31 epochas, is said to have been worked up in re¬
pairing a chimney in Arundel house.
In the year 1667, the Hon. Henry Howard, after¬
wards duke of Norfolk, the grandson of the first collec¬
tor, presented these supposed remains of antiquity to
the university of Oxford.
Selden’s work becoming very scarce, Bishop Fell en¬
gaged Mr Prideaux to publish a new edition of the in-
•criptions, which was printed at Oxford in 1676. In
1732 Mr Maittaire obliged the public with a more
comprehensive view of the marbles than either of his
predecessors. Lastly, Dr Chandler published a new
and improved copy of the marbles in 1763, in which
he corrected the mistakes of the former editors $ and
in some of the inscriptions, particularly that of the Pa¬
rian chronicle, supplied the lacunce by many ingenious
conjectures.
The Arundelian marbles have generally been regard¬
ed as a curious monument of antiquity. They were,
however, discovered in some instances to be inconsistent
with the most authentic historical accounts ; Sir Isaac
Newton and several other modern philosophers paid
little or no regard to them j and of late their absolute
authenticity has been severely questioned in an express
dissertation upon the subject, entitled The Parian Chro¬
nicle. In this dissertation much ingenuity as well as
judgment, and a great extent of ancient learning, are
displayed. His doubts, the author observes, arise from
the following considerations.
I. “ The characters have no certain or unequivocal
marks of antiquity.” The n and 2, which frequently
occur in the form supposed to be the most ancient (viz.
the perpendicular line of the II on the right hand only
half as long as that on the left, and the 2 in the form
of a prostrate EC ), are so well known, that any modern
fabricator of a Greek inscription, which he intends to
impose upon the world as a relick of antiquity, would
most probably use them in preference to the more
common and ordinary forms. But the letters in the
Parian chronicle have no appearance of antiquity ex-
They do not in the least
resemble the Sigean, the Nemean, or the Delian in¬
scriptions, which are supposed to be of a more ancient
date. They differ in many respects from the letters
on the Marmor Sandvicense, which, according to the
learned editor of that inscription, was engraved in the
year before Christ 374* They bear no sort of resem¬
blance to the characters on the Farnesian pillars, to
those of the Alexandrian manuscript, or others of a
later date. They seem, continues our author, to re¬
semble perhaps more than any other the letters of the
alphabet taken by Montfaucon from the Marmor Cyzi-
cenum at Venice. They are plain and simple in their
form, and such as an ordinary stonecutter of the pre¬
sent age would probably make, if he were employed to
engrave a Greek inscription according to the alphabet
now in use. The small letters intermixed among the
larger have, in the opinion of our author, an air of af¬
fectation and artifice, rather than genuine antiquity j
and he is persuaded, that the antiquity of an inscrip¬
tion can never be proved by the mere form of the let¬
ters, because the most ancient characters may be as
easily counterfeited as those which compose our present
alphabets.
That the learned reader may form a competent idea
of the characters in the Parian chronicle, the author
has compared them with those of other inscriptions, and
given what is usually termed a. fac simile.
In regard to several archaisms, as they are called, in
this chronicle, and which our author specifies, he con¬
tends, that no conclusion can be drawn from them in
favour of its antiquity. What reason could there be,
he asks, for introducing these into the Parian chroni¬
cle ? We do not usually find them in Greek writers of
the same age, or even in those of the most early date.
The reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, with the 21st year
of which the date of the chronicle coincides, was not
an age of rude antiquity with respect to the Greek
language j being only 130 years after the time of Xe¬
nophon and Plato, when the Greek was spoken and
written in its utmost purity and elegance: and we can
scarcely suppose, that even a stonecutter, in that re¬
fined age, would have been permitted to disgrace a su¬
perb and learned monument with such barbarisms as
occur in the chronicle. The archaisms, however, he
remarks, are not uniformly observed in this inscription.
He adduces six instances of deviation*, and adds, he is
almost tempted to suspect, that Tlu^u, tp Mxgx&aw,
and other pretended archaisms, are owing to a mere af¬
fectation of antiquity, or to a corrupted dialect and
pronunciation in later ages. Those archaisms, our au¬
thor acknowledges, appear on other marbles : but he
thinks, that, for that very reason, they would naturally
be adopted by the fabricator of a supposititious inscrip¬
tion ; and the authenticity of those inscriptions in
which they appear must be established beiore they can
be urged in opposition to the present argument.
H. “ It is not probable that the chronicle was en¬
graved for private useP—Our author thinks it an im¬
possible supposition that such an expensive and cumber¬
some W'ork could have been executed by a private ci¬
tizen, either for his own amusement, or for the bene¬
fit of his fellow citizens. In the first place, a long in¬
scription could not be engraved in marble without such
an expence as few learned Greeks were able to afford.
Arim.ler-
liaii.
U 2
Or,
A R U [ 7°8 ] A R U
Arunde- Or, if its author, by an uncommon felicity, was able
ban. to erect such a literary monument, the scheme would
     have been useless and imprudent 5 as all the contents of
the inscription might have been published more commo-
diously and effectually by the common mode of writing
in use at that time.
A variety of arguments is adduced, illustrating the
superiority of a manuscrpt to such an inscription as
the chronicle, in a number of respects 5 and enforcing
the improbability of its having ever been executed, ei¬
ther for public or private use. Much evidence from
ancient history is likewise produced in support of the
assertion, that the common mode of writing, in the
reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, was not on stones. It
is not, however, necessary to prove, by the testimony
of ancient authors, that books were written on parch¬
ment, or paper made of the Egyptian papyrus, or any
such materials, before the date of the Parian chronicle.
This is sufficiently evinced by the very existence of the
writings of Moses, David, Solomon, and the Jewish
prophets 5 the works of Homer, Hesiod, Anacreon,
Pindar, Hischylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Herodotus,
Hippocrates, Aristophanes, Thucydides, Xenophon,
Plato, Demosthenes, Aristotle, &c. : And it is still
more incontestably proved by the libraries which were
collected in preceding ages, or about that time ; such as
those of Polycrates in Samos, Pisistratus and Euclides
at Athens, Nicocrates in Cyprus, Euripides the poet,
Aristotle the philosopher, Clearchus at Heraclea Pon-
tica, and the most extensive and magnificent library of
Ptolemy Philadelphus in Egypt, founded in or before
the year 284, which in his time is said to have contain¬
ed 100,000 volumes, and to have been enlarged by his
successors to the amount of almost 600,000. Not long
afterwards a library was founded at Pergamus by Atta¬
ins and Eumenes, which, according to Plutarch, con¬
tained 200,000. These are clear and decisive proofs that
the common mode of writing in the time of Ptolemy
Philadelphus was not on stones.
III. “ The chronicle does not appear to have been
engraved by imblic authority.'''1
1. The first argument in support of this opinion is,
that inscriptions of that kind usually begin with a
particular form, as, H BOTAH KAI O AHMOS. ‘ The
senate and the people or thus, EAOSEN THI BOYAHI
KAI TOI AHMS2I, ‘ It pleased the senate and the
people, See.’ But the Parian chronicle begins in the
manner of a private man, speaking of his own perfor¬
mance in the first person singular. This argument,
our author remarks, cannot be much affected by ob¬
serving, that the beginning of the inscription is obli¬
terated for it is necessarily implied by the words now
remaining.
2. The facts and dates which are mentioned in this
chronicle, do not appear to have been extracted from
any public records, or calculated to answer the purpose
of authentic documents ; as many eminent princes and
magistrates are passed over without notice ; in several
instances, the transactions of whole centuries are omit¬
ted } and the facts, chiefly specified, are not matters of
general or national importance.
3. The Parian inscription is such a one as we can
hardly suppose the magistrates or the people of Paros
would have ordered to be engraved. Stately sepulchres,
pillars, triumphal arches, and the like, were erected to
2
perpetuate the glory of eminent men. The remem- Arunde-
brance of events in which nations were interested, the lian.
succession of princes, &c. were preserved in the same 1 — v —■
manner. Leagues, decrees, and laws, were likewise
engraved on marble or brass, and fixed to a pillar, the
walls of a temple, or other public buildings 5 because
such inscriptions were designed for the inspection of the
people, as they essentially concerned their conduct, their
property, their liberty, or their lives. But, our author
asks, for whom could the chronicle of Paros be intend¬
ed ? It contains no encomiums of any of the patriots,
the heroes, or the demigods of the country, no de¬
crees of the magistrates, no public records, no laws of
state. On the contrary, it is a work of mere specula¬
tion and learning, in which the inhabitants of that
island, especially the common people, had not the least
interest or concern.
These words at the beginning, u^oyros tp
would naturally lead us to suppose, that the inscription
related to Paros. And, if so, it would have been na¬
tural for the author to have mentioned some of the
most important occurrences in the history of that island.
But, says this acute and learned critic, what scheme
does our chronologer pursue on this occasion ? Does
he record the events and revolutions of his own coun¬
try P Does he mention any of the battles, sieges,
and treaties of the Parians ? any of their public institu¬
tions ? any of their poets, patriots, or warriors ? Does
he mention Archilochus, who was honoured by his
countrymen, and distinguished as a poet in a general
assembly of the Greeks ? Not a syllable on any of
these subjects ! On the contrary, he rambles from place
to place, and records the transactions of Athens, Co¬
rinth, Macedon, Lydia, Crete, Cyprus, Sicily, Persia,
and other foreign countries with which Paros had no
connexion.
In this view the inscription seems to have been as
impertinent in the island of Paros, as a marble monu¬
ment would be in this country, recording the antiqui¬
ties of France or Spain 5 or one in Jamaica recording
the revolutions of England. But upon supposition that
the inscription is a forgery, it is easy to account for this
extraordinary circumstance. A few chronological oc¬
currences in the ancient history of Paros would not have
been so interesting to the generality of readers, or so
valuable in the estimation of every lover of antiquities,
or, in short, so profitable to the compiler, as a general
system of Grecian chronology.
IV. “ The Greek and Homan writers, for a long
time after the date of this work, complain that they
had no chronological account of the affairs of ancient
Greece.” This position is confirmed by the testimony
of Julius Africanus, Justin Martyr, Plutarch, Josephus,
Varro, Diodorus Siculus, and others j and the following
series of interrogatories is subjoined : “ Thucydides,
I know, lived 140 years before the chronicle is said to
have been written j but if Thucydides, as well as other
writers, complained that there was nothing but uncer¬
tainty in the earlier period of Grecian history, from
whence can we suppose the author of this inscription
collected such a clear, determinate, and comprehensive
system of chronology ? If he had any sources of infor¬
mation, which were unknown to succeeding writers,
hew happens it, that they should all of them overlook
this most considerable, most exact, most creditable au¬
thor ?
A E U [ 709 ] A E U
Arunde- ^hor ? Why did they omit this ancient account of their
lian. early ages ? Why did they not copy his most memora-
ble epochas? Why did they not produce his authority?
or, at least, why did they not mention his opinion ? Sure¬
ly nothing, to all appearance, could be more elaborate,
more important, or of higher authority, than a chrono¬
logical table, which was thought worthy of being en¬
graved on marble.
V. “ The chronicle is not once mentioned by any
writers of antiquity.” This, indeed, appears a strong
argument against its authenticity. Apollodorus, an
Athenian, the disciple of Aristarchus the grammarian,
and Panaetius the philosopher, wrote a genealogical
and historical work on the early ages of Greece j but,
though composed 120 years after the date of the Pa¬
rian chronicle, it does not contain the smallest traces
of a systematical chronology. It is remarkable, too,
that the chronicle of Apollodorus is quoted by Dio¬
dorus Siculus, Strabo, Plutarch, A. Gellius, Lucian,
and many other writers of antiquity 5 while the Parian
chronicle, which comprehends a more extensive period,
is entirely unnoticed. It contains, however, such won¬
derful discoveries in ancient history, that if it had ex¬
isted 264 years before the Christian era, it must have
excited a general attention, and been referred to as an
authority by writers of succeeding times. But we do
not find, in any author of antiquity, either poet or hi¬
storian, geographer or chronologer, mythologist or scho¬
liast, the most distant allusion to the Parian chronicle j
though it was such a common practice among the an¬
cients to mention the works of their predecessors, that
in many books we find references and allusions to three,
four, five, six, or seven hundred different authors of
every denomination.
VI. “ Some of the facts mentioned in the chronicle
seem to have been taken from writers of a later date.”
Our inquirer collates several passages in the Parian
chronicle with parallel passages in Greek authors, to
evince that there is, in the former, an appearance of
imitation, or a stronger resemblance than such as may
be supposed to arise from accident; that there are
likewise some improbabilities attending the account of
Deucalion, as related in the Parian chronicle ; and that
the names of six, and, if the lacunae are properly sup¬
plied, the names of 12 cities appear to have been en¬
graved on the marble, exactly as we find them in iE-
lian’s Various History. But there is not, our author
observes, any imaginable reason for this particular ar¬
rangement. It does not correspond with the time of
their foundation, with their situation in Ionia, with
their relative importance, or with the order in which
they are placed by other eminent historians. The argu¬
ment by which our author endeavours to prove that the
Parian chronicle has, in this instance, copied JElian’s
Various History, seems decisive of the fact. He ob¬
serves, that six names may be transposed 720 different
ways; and that 12 names admit of 479,001,600 dif¬
ferent transpositions. Supposing, then, that there is no
particular reason for one arrangement rather than an¬
other, it will follow, that the chance of two authors,
placing them in the same order, is, in the former case,
as 1 to 720 j and in the latter, as I 10479,001,600.
It is therefore, says he, utterly improbable, that these
names should have been placed in this order on the
marble, if the author of the inscription had not trail- Arnnde-
scribed them from the historian. lian.
It may indeed be urged, with regard to this simi- 1
larity of arrangement in the Parian chronicle and
JE\ ian’s Various History, that the inference might be
the very inverse of that which is specified by our au¬
thor. But that Holian should have seen the Parian
chronicle, without once mentioning it $ or that he-
should have exactly copied a list of towns, arranged
neither according to chronological or topographical
order, is indeed a supposition equally improbable with
the other.
VII. “ Parachronisms appear in some of the epochas,
which we can scarcely suppose a Greek chronologer in
the 129th Olympiad would be liable to commit.” Af¬
ter specifying these, our inquirer asks, Would a writer
of reputation and learning, in one of the most polished
and enlightened eras of ancient Greece, commit such
mistakes, in opposition to the positive attestations of
the most accurate historians, in events of public no¬
toriety ? Would a private citizen, or a magistrate of
Paros, order a crude and inaccurate series of epochas
to be engraved at a great expence, and transmitted
to posterity on a marble monument ? It is hardly pro¬
bable.
VIII. “ The history of the discovery of the Parian
chronicle is obscure and unsatisfactory.” Our author
observes, that it is attended with some suspicious cir¬
cumstances, and without any of those clear and une¬
quivocal evidences which always discriminate truth
from falsehood. There are no data in the inscription
by which to discover the place where the marble was
erected. The place likewise where it was found is
not ascertained *, though the generality of writers who
have had occasion to mention it have supposed that it
was found in the island of Paros. If it was erected at
Smyrna, as some imagine, our author asks for what
purpose does the writer mention Astyanax the archon
of Paros, and not one circumstance relative to Smyrna?
If, adds he, it was erected at Paros, why does he not
mention more archons of that city than one ? or how
shall we account for his profound silence with respect
to all the events and revolutions which must have hap¬
pened in that island, and have been infinitely more inte¬
resting to the natives than the transactions of any foreign
country! *
The train of circumstances by which the Parian chro¬
nicle came into the possession of Mr Petty, whom Lord
Arundel had sent into the east for the purpose of col¬
lecting antiquities, as well as the subsequent conduct of
Peiresc its former owner, affords our author a strong
presumption, that “ the inscription was actually fabrica¬
ted, with the view of obtaining for it a high price, up¬
on the pretence that it was a reliek of great antiquity.
It is certain, that there is something mysterious in the
conduct of the first ostensible proprietors. These mar¬
bles had been totally unknown, or unnoticed, for almost
1900 years, and at last are dug out of the ground—
nobody can tell us when or where !”
IX. “ The literary world has been frequently im¬
posed upon by spurious books and inscriptions, and
therefore we should be extremely cautious with regard
to what we receive under the venerable name of anti¬
quity.” This proposition is illustrated by a great wa-
riety*
Arumle-
Ii»n
a
Aiusiui.
Y—.
A R U [ 7
riety of examples, and very properly exposes the forge¬
ries which have disgraced the republic of letters in dif¬
ferent ages j and although one of the more recent ones
, cited, namely, Ossian’s poems, be a point very far in¬
deed from being established, yet that deceptions of this
kind have been practised is an unquestionable fact.
In endeavouring, towards the end of his dissertation,
to investigate the time of the supposed forgery, he ob¬
serves that the 16th century, and the prior part of
the 17th, produced a multitude of grammarians, critics,
and commentators, deeply versed in Grecian literature,
and amply qualified for the compilation of such a chro¬
nological system as that of the Arundelian marbles.
Above all, the science of chronology was particularly
studied and investigated about that time ; “ Nunc fer-
vet chronologia,” says Scaliger in the year 1605,
“ omnes hoc ferrum excalfaciunt.” Casaubon treats
those persons with contempt who were unacquainted
with the improvements which had been made in that
department of learning after the revival of letters. In¬
numerable systems of chronology had been published
before the year 1625: from which it was easy to ex¬
tract a series of memorable events, and give the com¬
pilation a Grecian dress. “ The avidity,” says our
author, <{ with which all relicks of antiquity were then
collected, and the high price at which they were pur¬
chased, were sufficient inducements to any one, whose
avarice or whose necessity was stronger than his inte¬
grity, to engrave his labours on marble, and transmit
them to Smyrna, as a commodious emporium for such
rarities.”
The precise period of the fabrication, however, must
still be reckoned apocryphal and uncertain. The sum
of fifty guineas, which Peiresc gave to the supposed
fabricator, was inadequate to such a laborious and ex¬
pensive work. Upon the whole, perhaps, it would be
too hasty to pronounce decisively that this famous
chronicle, so long respected, is an imposition upon
the public. It may, however, be safely affirmed, that
the suspicions against it are extremely strong, and the
objections already cited of a nature very difficult to be
removed. No attempts have yet been made with this
view: But under some future article, as Chronology,
Marbles, or Parian Chronicle, we may possiblvhave
an opportunity of resuming the subject with additional
information*
ARUNDO, the Reed. See Botany Index.
ARUSINI CAMPI (erroneously written Taurasini
by Cluverius), plains in Lucania, famous for the last
battle fought between the Romans and Pyrrhus. That
prince being at Tarentum, and hearing that the two
new consuls Curius Dentatus and Cornelius Lentulus
had divided their forces, the one including Lucania
and the other Samnium ; he likewise divided a chosen
detachment of his army into two bodies, marchino-
with his Epirots against Dentatus, in hopes of surpris^
ing him in his camp near Beneventum. But the con¬
sul having notice of his approach, marched out of
his intrenchments with a strong detachment of legion¬
aries to meet him, repulsed his vanguard, put many
of the Epirots to the sword, and took some of their
elephants. Curius, encouraged by this success, march¬
ed into the Arusian fields, and drew up his army in a
plain, which was wide enough for bis troops, but too
narrow for the Epirot phalanx to act with its full ef-
10 ] A R X
feet. But the king’s eagerness to try his strength and Am' I
skill with so renowned a commander, stimulated him ||*,n
to engage at that great disadvantage. Upon the first Ar*.
signal the action began ; and one of the king’s wings v—-
giving way, victory seemed to incline to the Romans.
But that wing where the king fought in person repul¬
sed the enemy, and drove them to their intrenchments.
This advantage was in great part owing to the ele¬
phants j a circumstance which Curius perceiving, com¬
manded a body of reserve, which he had posted near
the camp, to advance and attack those animals with
burning torches $ which frightened and annoyed them
to such a degree, that they wheeled about, broke into
the phalanx, and put that body into the utmost disor¬
der. The Romans taking advantage of this confusion,
charged with such fury that the enemy were entirely
broken and defeated. Pyrrhus retired to Tarentum,
attended only by a small body of horse, leaving the
Romans in full possession of his camp, which they so
much admired, that they made it a model which they
followed ever after.
ARUSPICES, or Haruspices, in Roman antiqui¬
ty, an order of priests who pretended to foretel future
events by inspecting the entrails of victims killed in sa¬
crifice } they were also consulted on occasion of por¬
tents and prodigies. The haruspices were always cho¬
sen from the best families and as their employment
was of the same nature as that of the augurs, they were
as much honoured. Their college, as well as those of
the other religious orders, had its particular registers
and records.
ARX, in the ancient military art, a town, fort, or
castle, for defence of a place.
The arx in ancient Rome was a distinct edifice from
the capitol, though some have confounded the two.
According to Ryckius, the arx, properly speaking,
was a place on the highest part of the Capitoline mount,
stronger and better fortified than the rest, with towers
and pinnated walls: in which was also the temple of
Jupiter Capitolinus.
Arx also denotes a consecrated place on the Palatine
mount, where the augurs publicly performed their of¬
fice. Some will have the arx to have been the augural
temple} but Varro expressly distinguishes between the
two.
Arx was particularly used for a public place in Rome,
set apart for the operations of the augurs. In which
sense arx amounts to the same with what is otherwise
called auguroculum and auguratorium, and in the camp
avgurale. Out of this arx it was that the feciales, or
heralds, gathered the grass used in the ceremony of ma¬
king leagues and treaties.
Arx Brttannicct, a citadel of Batavia, whose founda¬
tion is seen at low water, near the old mouth of the mid¬
dle Rhine : some imagine it the pharos or high tower of
Caligula, as Suetonius calls it j a monument of Caligu¬
la’s sham conquest of Britain. Others that it was built
by Drusus, with an altar afterwards by Claudius, on
his expedition into Britain. But the usual passage was
from Gessoriacum $ and Suetonius expressly says, Clau¬
dius passed over thence. The ancient name of this ci¬
tadel, now covered by the sea, is nowhere expressed:
Now commonly called t"1 Hut's Britten, or Brittenburg ;
that is, Arx Britannica i but from what authority does
not appear.
ARYTENOIDES,
Aryte-
noides
(I
Asa.
ASA [ 7
ARYTENOIDES, in Anatomy, the name of two
cartilages, which, together with others, constitute the
head ot the larynx. It is also applied to some muscles
j of the larynx.
ARYTHMUS, in Medicine, the want of a just mo¬
dulation in the pulse. It is opposed to eurythmus, a
pulse modulated agreeably to nature.
ARZILLA, a very ancient maritime town of Afri¬
ca, in the kingdom of Fez, about five leagues from
Tangiers. It is built at the mouth of a river, and in¬
habited by Moors and Jews, who carry on no trade.
It was formerly a Roman colony ; afterwards fell un¬
der the government of the Goths and was next taken
by the Mahometans. Alphonso of Portugal, surnamed
the African, took it by assault in 1471, and brought
away the presumptive heir of the crown. After that
prince came to the throne, he besieged it, in 1508,
with 100,000 men ; but was obliged to abandon the
undertaking. However, at length the Portuguese for¬
sook it of their own accord. W. Long. 5. 30. N. Lat.
35- 3°-
AS, in antiquity, a particular weight, consisting of
12 ounces ; being the same with libra, or the Roman
pound. The word is derived from the Greek *15, which
in the Doric dialect is used for nt, one, q. d. an entire
thing j though others will have it named as quasi ces,
because made of brass.
As was also the name of a Roman coin, which was
of different weights and different matter in different
ages of the commonwealth. Under Numa Pompilius,
according to Eusebius, the Roman money was either
of wood, leather, or shells. In the time of Tullus
Hostilius, it was of brass $ and called as libra, libella,
or pondo, because actually weighing a pound or 12
ounces. Four hundred and twenty years after, the first
Punic war having exhausted the treasury, they reduced
the as to two ounces. In the second Punic war, Han¬
nibal pressing very hard upon them, they reduced the
as to half its weight, viz. to one ounce. And, lastly,
by the Papirian law, they took away half an ounce
more, and consequently reduced the as to the diminu¬
tive weight of half an ounce: and it is generally
thought that it continued the same during the common¬
wealth, and even to the reign of Vespasian. The as,
therefore, was of four different weights in the common¬
wealth. Its original stamp was that of a sheep, ox, or
sow : but from the time of the emperors, it had on
one side a Janus with two faces, and on the reverse the
rostrum or prow of a ship.
As was also used to denote any integer or whole.
Whence the English word ace. Thus as signified the
whole inheritance 5 whence hceres ex asse, the heir to
the whole estate.
ASA, king of Judah, succeeded his father Abijam.
He pulled down the altars erected to idols, restored the
worship of the true God, and, with the assistance of
Benhadad king of Syria, took several towns from the
king of Israel. He died 917 years before the Christian
era, and was succeeded by Jehoshaphat.
Asa, among naturalists. The writers of the later
ages have formed this word asa from the lasar of the
ancients, and attributed it to a gum very different from
that anciently known by the name they have thus cor¬
rupted.
The asa of the ancients was an odoriferous and fra-
11] ASA
grant gum j and the asa of the after ages had so little
title to this epithet, that they distinguished it by one, |i
expressing its being of an offensive or stinking smell. ^sar
The Arabian writers, according to this distinction, (joL
describe two kinds of asa, the one stinking, the other
aromatic ; and the modern Greeks preserved the name
asa, or lasar, to the stinking gum the Latins called by
that name, but added a distinctive epithet to express
its smell, and called it scardolasarum.
Asa or Assa, in the Materia Medico, a name given
to two very different substances, called asa-dulcis and
asa-fcctida.
AsA-Dulcis is the same with Benzoin.
AsA-JFoctida is the concrete juice of an umbelliferous
plant growing in several parts of Asia. See Ferula,
Botany and Materia Medica Index.
ASAPH, St, a city in Flintshire, with a bishop’s
see ; on which account principally it deserves notice,
being in itself but a poor place. As a bishopric, it is
of great antiquity, and wras founded about the year
560, by Kentigern, a Scotsman, bishop of Glasgow.
He began the church on the banks of the river Elwy,
whence it is called by the Welsh Land Elwy, and in
Latin Elwensis. Kentigern returning into Scotland,
left a holy man his successor, St Asaph. Who was his
successor is uncertain, as there are no records that men¬
tion it ; and it seems rather probable that the religi¬
ous settled here had been necessitated to remove to some
more peaceable abode, as the country was frequently
the seat of war between the English and the Welsh.
This see was formerly a very wealthy one ; but its re¬
venues were greatly lessened by the profusion of Bishop
Parfew, who alienated much of the lands belonging to
this bishopric.
This diocese doth not contain any one whole coun¬
ty ; but consists of part of Denbigh, Flint (where its
church is), Montgomery, and Merioneth shires, and a
small part of Shropshire ; wherein are 121 parishes,
and 131 churches and chapels, most of which are in
the immediate patronage of the bishop. This see hath
but one archdeaconry, viz. that of St Asaph, which is
united to the bishopric, for the better maintenance
thereof. This see is valued in the king’s books at 187I.
1 is. 6d. but computed to be worth annually 1500I.
The tenth of the clergy comes to 186I. 19s. 6|d. To
this cathedral belong a bishop, a dean, archdeacon,
chancellor, See.
ASAPPES, or Azapes, an order of soldiers in the
Turkish army, whom they always expose to the first
shock of any enemy: to the end that the enemy being
thus fatigued, and their swords blunted, the spahis and
janizaries may fall on and find an easy conquest. The
word is derived from the Turkish sap/i, which signifies
rank, from whence they have formed asphaph, “ to
range in battle.” The asappes are said to be held ot
so little value, that they frequently serve as bridges for
the cavalry to pass over in bad roads, and as fascines
to fill up the ditches of places besieged. They travel
on foot, and have no pay but the plunder they can-get
from the enemy.
ASAR-ADDON, or Esar-Haddon, the son of Sen¬
nacherib, succeeded his father about 712 years before
the Christian era, and united the kingdoms of Ni¬
neveh and Babylon. He rendered himself master ot
Syria} sent a colony to Samaria j and his generals took
A S B [7
Asarina King Manasses, and carried him loaded with chains to
Is Babylon. Asar-Addon died after a reign of 12 years.
Asbestos. ASARINA. SeeCHELONE.
ASAROTA, ctrct^wrct,) from a. and <reiiget>, I sweep, a
kind ot painted pavements in nse before the invention of
mosaic work. The most celebrated was that at Perga-
mus, painted by Sesus, and exhibiting the appearance of
crumbs, as if the floor had not been swept after dinner,
whence, according to Pliny, the denomination. Per-
rault supposes them to have been a black kind of pave¬
ments of a spongy matter.
ASARUM, Asarabacca. See Botany Index.
ASBAMEA, a fountain of Cappadocia, near Ty-
ana, sacred to Jupiter, and to an oath. Though this
fountain bubbled up, as in a state of boiling, yet its
water was cold, and never ran over, but fell back
again : (Philostratus, Ammian).
ASBESTOS, a native fossil stone, which may be
split into threads and filaments, from one inch to ten
inches in length, very fine, brittle, yet somewhat flex¬
ible, silky, and of a grayish colour, not unlike talc of
Venice. It is almost insipid to the taste, insoluble in
water, and possesses the wonderful property of remain¬
ing unconsumed in the fire, which only whitens it.
The industry of mankind has found a method of
working this mineral, and employing it in divers ma¬
nufactures, chiefly cloth and paper. The manufacture
is undoubtedly difficult enough. Pliny calls the asbes¬
tos inventu rarum, textu dijficillimum. Wormius as¬
sures us, that the method of making cloth of asbestos is
now entirely unknown. And indeed one would scarce¬
ly imagine the thing practicable, without the mixture
of some other pliant matter, as wool, hemp, or flax,
along with the asbestos, the filaments of this latter ap¬
pearing too coarse and brittle to make any tolerable
fine work. However this be, Bart. Porta assures us,
that in his time the spinning of asbestos was a thing
known to every body at Venice. Sig. Castagnatta, super-
intendant of some mines in Italy, is said to have car¬
ried the manufacture to such perfection, that his asbestos
was soft and tractable, much resembling lamb skin dres¬
sed white : he could thicken and thin it at pleasure, and
thus either make it into a very white skin or a very
white paper.
Ihis kind of linen cloth was chiefly esteemed by the
ancients j though then better known and more com¬
mon than among us, being held equally precious with
the richest pearls: nor is it now of mean value, even
in the country where it is most generally made, a China
cover (i. e. a piece of 23 inches and three-quarters
long) being worth 80 tale, i. e. 36I. 13s. 4d. Pliny
says, he himself had seen napkins thereof, which, being
taken foul from the table after a feast, were thrown
into the fire, and by that means were better scoured
than if they had been washed in water, &c. But its
principal use, according to Pliny, was for the making
of shrouds, for royal funerals, to wrap up the corps<T,
so that the ashes might be kept distinct from those
of the wood, &c. whereof the funeral pile was com¬
posed : and the princes of Tartary, according to the
accounts in the Philosophical Transactions, still use it
at this day in burning their dead. Some of the an¬
cients are said to have made themselves clothes of it,
particularly the Brachmans among the Indians. The
wicks for their perpetual lamps, according to Dr Lis-
[2 ] A S C
ter, were also made of it: some to this day use it for the Asbestos
wicks of such lamps as they would not have any trouble |j
with ; because the asbestos never wasting, there is no Ascendant,
occasion for shifting the wick. Septalla, canon of Mi-    
lan, had thread, ropes, nets, and paper made of the as-
■bestos. A handkerchief or pattern of the linen was long
since presented to the Royal Society, a foot long and
half a foot broad. This gave two proofs of its resisting
fire ; though, in both experiments, it lost above three
drachms of its weight. When taken out red hot, it did
not burn a piece of white paper on which it was laid,
Mr Villette pretends that his large burning concave
usually vitrifies the asbestos.
The method of preparing the incombustible paper
and cloth is thus described by Ciampini: The stone is
laid to soak in warm water 5 then opened and divided
by the hands, that the earthy matter may be washed
out. Ihe ablution being several times repeated, the
flaxlike filaments are collected and dried ; and they are
most conveniently spun with an addition of flax. Two
or three filaments of the asbestos are easily twisted along
with the flaxen thread, if the operator’s fingers are kept
oiled. The cloth also, when woven, is best preserved
by oil from breaking or wasting. On exposure to the
fire, the flax and the oil burn out, and the cloth i-emains
pure and white. Probably from the dissipation of some
extraneous matter of this kind proceeded the diminution
of weight in the handkerchief just recited j for pure as¬
bestos leaves nothing. The shorter filaments which se¬
parate in washing the stone may be made into paper in
the common manner.
The asbestos is found in Crete and Cyprus ; in Tar¬
tary; at Namur in the Low Countries; in Thuringia
among the mines ; in the old Noricum ; in Egypt; in
the mountains of Arcadia ; at Puteoli; in the island
of Corsica; in the island of Anglesey in Wales; in
Aberdeenshire in Scotland ; at Montauban in France ;
and in Siberia.
ASCALON, an ancient city, and one of the five
satrapies or principalities of the Philistines; situated
on the Mediterranean, 43 miles to the south-west of
Jerusalem (Antonine), between Azotus to the north
and Gaza to the south. The birthplace of Herod the
Great, hence surnamed Ascalonita (Stephanus). Fa¬
mous for its scallions, which take name from this town
(Strabo, Pliny). Now Scatoia. E. Long. 34. 30.
N. Lat. 31. 30.
ASCANIUS, the son of ^Eneas and Creusa, suc¬
ceeded his father in the kingdom of the Latins, and de¬
feated Mezentius king of the Tuscans, who had refused
to conclude a peace with him. At length he founded
Alba Longa; and died about 1139 years before the
Christian era, after a reign of 38 years.
ASCARIS. See Helminthology Index.
ASCENDANT, in Astrology, denotes the horoscope,
or the degree of the ecliptic which rises upon the ho¬
rizon at the time of the birth of any one. This is sup¬
posed to have an influence on the person’s life and for¬
tune, by giving him a bent and propensity to one thing
more than another.
In the celestial theme, this is also called the first
house, the angle of the East or Oriental angle, and the
significator of life. Such a planet ruled in his ascendant;
Jupiter was in his ascendant, &c. Hence the word is
also used in a moral sense, for a certain superiority
which
A S C [ 7
Ascendant one has over another, from some unknown
cause.
ASCENDANTS, in Law, are opposed to descend¬
ants in succession j i. e. when a father succeeds his son,
or an uncle his nephew, &c. heritage is said to ascend,
or go to ascendants.
ASCENDING, in Astronomy, is said of such stars
as are rising above the horizon in any parallel of the
equator.
Ascending Latitude, is the latitude of a planet when
going towards the north pole.
Ascending Node, is that point of a planet’s orbit,
wherein it passes the ecliptic, to proceed northward.
This is otherwise called the northern node, and repre¬
sented by this character
Ascending i esscls, in Anatomy, those which carry
the blood upwards j as the aorta ascendens. See Ana¬
tomy.
ASCENSION, in Astronomy, is either right or ob¬
lique. Right ascension of the sun, or a star, is that de¬
gree of the equinoctial, counted from the beginning of
Aries, which rises with the sun or star in a right sphere.
Oblique ascension is an arch of the equator intercepted
between the first point of Aries and that point of the
equator which rises together with a star in an oblique
sphere.
Ascension Day, a festival of the Christian church,
held ten days before Whitsuntide, in memory of our
Saviour’s ascension into heaven after his resurrection.
Ns ce ns ION Island, a barren island on the coast of
Africa, lying in W. Long. 140 22' 31". S. Lat. 70 56'.
The following account is given of it by Mr Forster.
“ This island was first discovered in 1501, by Joao de
Nova Galego, a Portuguese navigator, who named it
Ilha de Nossa Senhora de Conceifao. The same admiral
on his return to Portugal in 1502, discovered the island
of St Helena, which obtained that name from the day
of the discovery. Ascension was seen a second time
by Alfonso d’Albuquerque on his voyage to India in
1503, and then received the name it now bears 5 but
was already at that time in the same desolate condition
as at present. We sent several parties on shore, who
passed the night on the watch for turtles, which came
to lay their eggs on the sandy shores. The dreariness
of this island surpassed all the horrors of Easter island
and Terra del Fuego, even without the assistance of
snow. It was a ruinous heap of rocks, many of which,
as far as we could discern from the ship, seemed to be
totally changed by the fire of a volcano. Nearly in
the centre of the island rises a broad white mountain of
great height, on which we discerned some verdure by
the help of our glasses, from whence it has obtained the
name of Green Mountain.
“ We landed early in the morning among some
rocks, the surf being always immensely high on the
great beach ; which consists of minute shell-sand, chiefly
of a snowy white, very deep, dry, and intolerable to
the eyes when the sun shines. We ascended among
heaps of black cavernous stone, which perfectly re¬
sembles the most common lavas of Vesuvius and Ice¬
land, and of which the broken pieces looked as if they
had been accumulated by art. The lava currents cool¬
ing very suddenly, may easily be imagined to produce
such an effect. Having ascended about 12 or 15 yards
perpendicular, we found ourselves on a great level plain
Vol. II. Part II. f
13 ] A S C
of six or eight miles in circuit; in the different corners Ascension
of which we observed a large hill of an exact conical Island.
shape, and of a reddish colour, standing perfectly insu- ' v—
lated. Part of the plain between these conic hills was
covered with great numbers of smaller hillocks, consist¬
ing of the same wild and ragged lava as that near the
sea, and ringing like glass when two pieces are knock¬
ed together. The ground between the heaps of lava
was covered with a black earth, on which we walked
very firmly j but when these heaps did not appear, the
W’hole was a red earth, which was so loose, and in such
dry minute particles, that the wind raised clouds of
dust upon it. The conic hills consisted .of a very dif¬
ferent sort of lava, which was red, soft, and crumbling
into earth. One of these hills stands directly in front
of the bay, and has a wooden cross on its summit, from
whence the bay is said to take its name. Its sides are
very steep, but a path near three quarters of a mile
long winds round it to the summit. After examining
this remarkable country a little longer, we concluded,
with a great degree of probability on our side, That the
plain on which we stood was once the crater or seat of
a volcano, by the accumulation of whose cinders and
pumice stones the conic hills had been gradually form¬
ed : that the currents of lava which we now saw divid¬
ed into many heaps, had perhaps been gradually bu¬
ried in fresh cinders and ashes ; and the waters coming
down from the interior mountain in the rainy season,
had smoothened every thing in their way, and filled up
by degrees the cavity of the crater. The rocky black
lava was the residence of numberless men-of-war birds
and boobies, which sat on their eggs, and suffered us
to come close to them.
“ About eight in the evening, it being then quite
dark, a small vessel came into the bay, and anchored
directly within us. Captain Cook having hailed her
repeatedly, received in answer that she was the Lucre-
tia, a New York sloop, which had been at Sierra Leon,
and was now come to catch turtles, in order to sell
them at the windward islands of the West Indies. A
lieutenant was sent on board, who learned from the
master, that he had taken our ship to be a French In-
diaman, and was very desirous of trading with English
India ships, in which he was disappointed by the com¬
pany’s regulations. He dined with our officers the
next day, but on the 31st at day-break left the island.
On the 30th in the morning, we landed a second time ;
and, crossing the plain, arrived at a prodigious lava
current, intersected by many channels from six to eight
yards deep, which bore strong marks of being worn
by vast torrents of water, but were at present perfectly
dry, the sun being in the northern hemisphere. In
these gullies we. found a small quantity of soil consisting
of a blaik volcanic earth, mixed with some whitish
particles gritty to the touch. Here we saw some small
bunches of purslane, and a species of grass (panicum
sanguineuni) which found sufficient nutriment in the
dry soil. Having at last, with great fatigue, climbed
over this extensive and tremendous current of lava,
which was much more solid than the heaps nearer to
the sea, we came to the foot of the Green Mountain,
which even from the ship’s place in the bay we had
plainly distinguished to be of a different nature from all
the rest of the country. Those parts of the lava which
surrounded it were covered with a prodigious quantity
4 X of
A S C [7
Ascension purslane, and a new kind of fern, lonchites Adscen-
Is’aiid sionis, where several flocks of wild goats were feed-
11 ing. The great mountain is divided in its extremities,
, Ascent. ^ ^ various clefts, into several bodies j but in the centre
they all run together, and form one broad mass of
great height. The whole appears to consist of a grit¬
ty tophaceous limestone, which has never been at¬
tacked by the volcano, but probably existed prior to
its eruption ; its sides are covered with a kind of grass,
peculiar to the island, which Linnaeus has named aris-
tida Adscensionis. We likewise observed several flocks
of goats feeding on it; but they were all excessively
shy, and ran with surprising velocity along tremendous
precipices, where it was impossible to follow them.
The master of the New York sloop acquainted us, that
there is a spring of water on one part of this mountain,
which falls down a great precipice, and is afterwards
absorbed in the sand. I am almost persuaded, that,
with a little trouble, Ascension might shortly be made
fit for the residence of man. The introduction of
furze {ulex Europceus), and of a few other plants
which thrive best in a parched soil, and are not likely
to be attacked by rats or goats, would soon have the
same effect as at St Helena. The moisture attracted
from the atmosphere by the high mountains in the
centre of the island, would then no longer be evapora¬
ted by the violent action of the sun, but collect into
rivulets, and gradually supply the whole island. A
sod of grasses would everywhere cover the surface
of the ground, and annually increase the stratum of
mould, till it could be planted with more useful vege¬
tables.
“ We returned gradually to Cross Eay, in the heat
of noon, over the plain j having a space of more than
five miles to traverse, where the sun burnt and blister¬
ed our faces and necks, and heated the soil to such a
degree, that our feet were likewise extremely sore.
About three o’clock w'e arrived at the water’s side ;
and after bathing in a small cove among a few rocks,
we made a signal for a boat, and were taken on
board. The next forenoon we made another small
excursion, in company with Captain Cook, towards
the Green Mountain *, but we were all of us so much
fatigued, that we could not reach it. We made no
new observations in the course of this day, the nature
of the island being dreary beyond description in its out¬
skirts.”
ASCENSIONAL DIFFERENCE, the difference be¬
tween the right and oblique ascension of the same point
to the surface of the sphere.
ASCENT, in a general sense, implies the motion
of a body upwards, or the continual recess of a body
from the earth. The Peripatetics attribute the spon¬
taneous ascent of bodies to a principle of levity inhe¬
rent in them. The moderns deny any such thing as
spontaneous levity ; and show, that whatever ascends,
does it in virtue of some external impulse or extrusion.
Thus it is that smoke and other rare bodies ascend in
the atmosphere ; and oil, light woods, &c. in water;
not by any internal principle of levity, but by the su¬
perior gravity or tendency downwards,of the parts of
the medium wherein they are. The oscewi; of light bo¬
dies in heavy mediums is produced after the same man¬
ner as the ascent of the lighter scale of a balance. It
is not that such scale has an internal principle whereby
4 ] A S C
it immediately tends upwards ; but it is impelled up- Ascent
wards by the preponderancy of the other scale ; the ||
excess of the weight of the one having the same effect, Ascham
by augmenting its impetus downwards, as so much ‘' v~"“'
real levity in the other; by reason the tendencies mu¬
tually oppose each other, and that action and reaction
are always equal.
Ascent of Bodies on Inclined Planes, the reader will
find explained under Mechanics ; Ascent of Fluids,
under Hydrostatics ; and Ascent of Vapours under
the article Evaporation.
ASCESIS, properly denotes exercise of the body.
It is formed from the verb used by the an¬
cients in speaking of the sports and combats of the ath-
letse.
Ascesis is also used by philosophers, to denote an
exercise conducive to virtue, or to the acquiring a
greater degree of virtue. This is particularly denomi¬
nated the philosophical ascesis, because practised chiefly
by philosophers, who make‘a more peculiar profession
of improving themselves in virtue ; on the model
whereof the ancient Christians introduced a religions
ascesis.
ASCETERIUM, in ecclesiastical writers, is fre¬
quently used for a monastery, or place set apart for
the exercise of virtue and religion. The word is
formed from ascesis, “ exercise;” or ascetra, “ one
who performs exercise.” Originally it signified a place
where the athletae or gladiators performed their exer¬
cises.
ASCETIC, an ancient appellation given to such
persons as, in the primitive times, devoted themselves
more immediately to the exercises of piety and virtue,
in a retired life ; and particularly to prayer, absti¬
nence, and mortification. The word is derived from
etcxw, exerceo, “ I exercise.” Afterwards, when the
monks came in fashion, this title was bestowed upon
them ; especially upon such of them as lived in soli¬
tude.
Ascetic is also a title of several books of spiritual
exercise.—As, the Ascetics, or devout exercises of St
Basil, archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia.
We also say the ascetic life, meaning the exercise of
prayer, meditation, and mortification.
ASCIIAFFENBURG, a towm of Germany, seated
on the river Maine, in the circle of the Lower Rhine,
formerly belonging to the elector of Mentz, but now to
the king of Bavaria. It is memorable for being the
place where the king of Great Britain took up his
quarters the night before the battle of Dettingen. E.
Long. 9. 5. N. Lat. 49. 54.
ASCHAM, Roger, an Englishman of considerable
learning in the 16th century, was born at Kirby
Wiske, a village in Yorkshire, near Northallerton.
John Ascham, his father, ivas house-steward in the fa¬
mily of Scroop, and by his wife, Margaret, was con¬
nected with several respectable families. A short time
before his death, Sir Anthony WTinfield, having con¬
ceived a predilection for his third son Roger, took him
into his family, and extended his bounty so far as to
give him the advantage of a private education along
with his own sons. Under a domestic tutor, he made
a rapid progress in classical learning, and early disco¬
vered a great partiality for reading. The superiority
of genius and docility of temper which he constantly
displayed.
A S C f 7
Aieliam. displayed, induced his patron to send him to St John’s
—v - ■ * college, Cambridge, in the year 1530.
The revival of Grecian and Roman literature at the
period Ascham entered upon his studies, was peculiarly
favourable to the natural bent of his inclination* A de¬
sire of excelling uniformly influenced his conduct, and
adopting the maxim, docet, discit, he began to
teach boys the rudiments of the Greek language, as
soon as he was acquainted with the elementary parts
himself. His plan was approved by Pember ; and un¬
der the direction of this valuable friend, he soon became
acquainted with the best Greek and Latin authors. But
he took particular delight in reading Cicero and Cse-
sar; and upon them he formed the elegance of his La¬
tin style, which proved so honourable and so advanta¬
geous in the after part of his life.
Ascham took his first degree of bachelor of arts in
the 18th year of his life, and was chosen fellow of the
college about a month afterwards. The favourable dis¬
position, however, which he manifested towards the re¬
formed religion, was no small obstacle in the way of his
preferment. He was elected master of arts in the year
1537, the 2lst of his age j and about this period he be¬
gan to act in the capacity of a tutor.
His reputation for Greek learning soon brought him
many pupils ; and these were so well instructed, that
several of them afterwards arose to considerable emi¬
nence. Of these, William Grindall Was one of the
most distinguished, who obtained the station of master
of languages to the lady Elizabeth, upon the recom¬
mendation of Sir John Cheke. It appears uncertain
why Ascham himself was not appointed to that honour¬
able station, but his partiality for the university seems,
from a hint in one of his letters, to have been the
cause. At that period there was no particular chair
appropriated to the Greek language $ but Ascham was
appointed by the university to read lectures upon that
language in the schools. A dispute arose in the uni¬
versity at that time about the pronunciation of the
Greek language, in which Ascham first opposed the
method observed by Sir John Cheke and Sir Thomas
Smith ; but, upon more mature deliberation, he adopt¬
ed that method, which has ever since been practised in
the English schools. Both on account of the beauty
of his hand-writing, and the purity and elegance of
his Latin, he was employed to write the public letters
of the university.
By the advice of his friend Pember, he turned his
attention to the study of instrumental music, and there¬
by enlivened his leisure hours, and prepared his mind
for renewed exertion. In his study he also amused
himself with embellishing the pages of his manuscripts
with beautiful draughts j and in the field he joined in
the diversion of the bow and arrow. The learned As¬
cham did not deem his labour improperly bestowed
in writing a book entitled Toxopkilus, in that age
when the practice of fire-arms was in its infancy, and
the proper use of the bow was of more importance than
for mere amusement. This work was useful at that
time for introducing into the English language, a
more natural, easy, and truly English diction, than
was formerly in use j and it also abounds with many
beautiful allusions and curious fragments of English
history. Ascham candidly acknowledges, that being
anxious to make the tour of Italy, which was then the
IS ] A S C
great republic of letters, and particularly of Grecian li- Accli
terature, he wished, by dedicating his book to the king, —v
to obain a pension, to enable him to make that tour.
It reflects some lustre on the benevolence of Hen¬
ry VIII. that in the year 1544, he settled upon him an
annual pension of 10I. which Hr Johnson, considering
the circumstance of the times, estimates at the value of
look Upon the death of Henry, this pension was for
some time discontinued, but was again renewed by
Edward VI. and doubled by Queen Mary. In the
same year also, Ascham obtained the appointment of
orator to the university, an office which he retained
with great reputation, during the period he was con¬
nected with the university.
For some years he received an annual gratuity from
Lee, archbishop of York, but to what amount is not
recorded; and, in 1548, upon the death of his pupil
Grindall, preceptor to the lady Elizabeth, his pupils
and writings had acquired him such celebrity, that he
was appointed to direct the studies of that princess. He
successfully acquitted himself in that honourable charge;
but two years after, from some unknown cause of dis-
satisfaction* he returned to the university, having taken
an abrupt leave of the princess. This part of his con¬
duct did not lessen him in the esteem of Elizabeth ;
for in the same year, she recalled him to court, and
appointed him secretary to Sir Richard Mcrisine, am¬
bassador to the emperor Charles V. In his way to Lon¬
don, he paid a visit to Lady Jane Gray, whom he found
in her chamber, reading Plato’s Phaedo, in Greek,
“ and that,” says he, “ with as much delight as some
gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace;”
while the duke and duchess, and the rest of the house¬
hold, were hunting in the park.
In the character of secretary to Sir Richard, besides
aiding him in the management of his public aflairs, he
also conducted his private studies. During the mornings
of four days in the week, he read with him a portion
of Herodotus or Demosthenes ; and, in the evenings,
some pages of Sophocles or Euripides ; and, on the
other mornings, he wrote the letters of public business ;
and, on the evenings, he either wrote his own private
letters, or continued his diary and remarks. While
Ascham was on his travels, he made a short excursion
to Italy ; but was much disgusted with the manners of
the people, especially of the Venetians. After his re¬
turn from that tour, he favoured the world with a curi¬
ous tract, entitled “ A Report and Discourse of the Af¬
fairs and State of Germany,” &c.
Upon the death of Edward VI. Morisine was re¬
called, and Ascham returned to the university. But
through the interest of Bishop Gardiner, the fortune
of Ascham soon took a favourable turn, who although
he knew him to be a Protestant, obtained him the of¬
fice of Latin secretary to the queen, with liberty to re¬
tain his university emoluments, and the additional sa¬
lary of 10I. a-year. The prudence of Ascham enabled
him to act a respectable part, both under the intolerant
reign of Mary, and also in the most perilous situations
during the reign of Elizabeth ; and the readiness and
elegance of his Latin style, rendered him a useful mem¬
ber at court. He is reported to have written, during
the course of three days, 47 letters to persons in the
highest ranks of life.
When the crown passed to a Protestant prince, it
4X2 made
A S C [7
Ascham made little alteration in the condition of Ascham, who
[j still retained his station. He spent several hours every
Asc*tes* f day in reading the learned languages with the queen j
and her proficiency was equal to his labours, and it
might have been expected, that his rewards would have
been more ample than 2ol. per annum, together with
the prebend of Westwang. Some have alleged, that the
queen kept him poor, because, it is said, he was ad¬
dicted to cock-fighting, and in other respects extrava¬
gant ; but the defects in his character should not have-
deprived him of the rewards due to actual services.
In consequence of a conversation which took place
in the apartment of Secretary Cecil, upon the subject
of education, Sir Richard Sackville, who was present,
requested him to write a book on the general subject
of education. This work is entitled “ The School¬
master $” and while it displays the humanity of the
author, contains many excellent instructions to the
teachers of youth. This treatise was published by his
widow after his death. By too close application to
composing a poem, which he intended to present to
the queen on the new year’s day of 1569, he was sei¬
zed with an illness, which proved fatal, and he died
in the 53d year of his age, on the 23d of December,
1568. His death was universally lamented, and the
queen expressed her regret, by saying, that, “ she
would rather have lost io,oool. than her tutor As¬
cham.” His epistles, which are valuable, both on ac¬
count of their style and historical information, were
published after his death, and dedicated to the queen 5
and his other works have since been collected into one
volume by Bennet.
Roger Ascham appears to have been possessed of an
amiable disposition, kind to his friends, and grateful to
his benefactors. Although he was firm in his adhe¬
rence to his religious opinions, yet his zeal did not
carry him to excess in opposing those of other men.
His talents both as a man and as a scholar were very
considerable, and he deserved more ample returns for
his services than were conferred upon him by those who
enjoyed the benefit of his labours in the advancement
of solid learning and correct taste. (Gen. Biog.').
ASCIBURGIUM, in Ancient Geography, mention-
ed by Tacitus, supposed to be one of the 50 citadels
built on the Rhine \ who adds, some imagined it was
built by Ulysses. Here was a Roman camp and a gar¬
rison. To its situation on the banks of the Rhine an¬
swers a small hamlet, now called Ashing not far from
Meurs, in the duchy of Cleves.
ASCIDIA. See Helminthology Index.
ASCII, among Geographers, an appellation given
to those inhabitants of the earth, who at certain sea¬
sons of the year have no shadow : Such are all the in¬
habitants of the torrid zone, when the sun is vertical
to them.
ASCITtE, (from outmos, a bag or bottle), in antiqui¬
ty, a sect or branch of Montanists, who appeared in the
second century. They were so called, because they
introduced a kind of Bacchanals into their assemblies,
who danced round a bag or skin blowed up : saying,
they were those new bottles filled with new wine where¬
of our Saviour makes mention, Matth. ix. 17.—They
are sometimes also called Ascodrogita.
ASCII ES, in Medicine, the dropsy of the abdomen.
See Medicine Inde%.
6 ] A S C
ASCLEPIA, a festival of ASsculapius the god of *s 1 •
physic, observed particularly at Epidaurus, where it
was attended with a contest between the poets and mu- Asculura
sicians, whence it was likewise called ‘lt(os Aynv, the Apulum.
sacred contention. ——y—,
ASCLEPIAD, in Ancient Poetry, a verse compos¬
ed ol four feet, the first of which is a spondee, the se¬
cond a choriambus, and the two last dactyls ; or of four
feet and a caesura, the first a spondee, the second a dac¬
tyl, after which comes the caesura, then the two dac¬
tyls $ as, Mcecenas atavis edite regibns.
ASCLEPLADES, one of the most celebrated phy¬
sicians among the ancients, was a native of Prusa in
Bithynia j and practised physic at Rome, under Pom-
pey, 96 years before the Christian era. He was the
head of a new sect j and, by making use of wine and
cold water in the cure of the sick, acquired a very-
great reputation. He wrote several books, which are
frequently mentioned by Galen, Celsus, and Pliny j
but they are now lost.
Asclefiades, a famous physician under Pladrian,
of the same city with the former. He wrote several
books concerning the composition of medicines $ both
internal and external.
ASCLEPIAS, Swallow -wtort. See Botany
Index.
ASCODUTiE, in antiquity, a sect of heretics in
the second century, who rejected all use of symbols and
sacraments, on this principle, That incorporeal things
cannot be communicated by things corporeal, nor di¬
vine mysteries by any thing visible.
ASCOLI, formerly Ascuhtm Apulum, a pretty large
and populous town of Italy, in the marquisate of An¬
cona, and territory of the church. It is a bishop’s see,
and seated on a mountain, at the bottom of which runs
the river Pronto. E. Long. 15. 20. N. Lat. 42. 27.
Ascoli de Satriano, formerly Asculum Picenum, an
episcopal city of Italy, in the kingdom of Naples ;
seated on a mountain. E. Long. 15. 5. N. Lat. 42. 8.
ASCOLIA, in Grecian antiquity, a festival cele¬
brated by the Athenian husbandmen in honour of Bac¬
chus, to whom they sacrificed a he-goat, because it de¬
stroys the vines ( Ovid. Fast. i. 457.) j and, to show
the greater indignity to an animal hated by Bacchus,
the peasants, after having killed him, made a foot-ball
of his skin. Virgil has beautifully described the oc¬
casion of the sacrifice and manner of celebrating the
festival, Georg, ii. 380.
ASCRIPTITII, or Adscriftitii, were a kind of
villains, who, coming from abroad, settle in the lands
ol some new lords, whose subjects or servants they com¬
mence ; being so annexed to the lands, that they may
be transferred and sold with the same. Adscriptitii is
sometimes also used in speaking of aliens or foreigners
newly admitted to the freedom of a city or country.
Ascriptitii was also used in the military laws for
the recruits appointed to supply the losses of the legions,
called also Accensi.
ASCRIVIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Dalmatia, on the Sinus Rhizicus (Pliny, Ptolemy) :
Now Cattaro (Harduin) ; the capital of the territory
of Cattaro, in Venetian Dalmatia. E. Long. 19. 20.
Lat. 45. 25.
ASCULUM apulum, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Apulia, much mentioned in the war with
Pyrrhus
ASH [ 717 ]
Asculum Pyrrhus (Florus, Plutarch) : Now called Ascoli; a mily of de la Zouch.
Aptisum city of the Capitanata, in the kingdom of Naples,
il E. Long. 16. 30. N. Lat. 41. 15.
^'zoueh ^ Asculum Picenum, in Ancient Geography, a town
. " ^ . of the Piceni (Caesar); and the capital (Florus):
Now Ascoli, in the marquisate of Ancona, on the river
Fronto. E. Long. 15. 5. N. Lat. 42. 50.
ASCYRUM, Peter’s-wort. See Botany Index.
ASDRUBAL, the name of several Carthaginian
generals. See Carthage.
ASEKI, or AsEKAI, the name which the Turks
give to the favourite sultanas who have brought forth
sons. These are greatly distinguished above others in
their apartments, attendants, pensions, and honours.
ASELLUS, in Zoology, the trivial name of a species
of oniscus. See Oniscus, Entomology Index.
ASGILL, John, a late humorous writer, was bred
to the law, and practised in Ireland with great suc¬
cess. He was there elected a member of the house of
commons, but was expelled for writing a treatise on
the possibility of avoiding death ; and being afterwards
chosen a member for the borough of Bromber in Sus¬
sex, he was also on the same account expelled the par¬
liament of England. After this, he continued 30
years a prisoner in the Mint, Fleet, and King’s-bench ;
during which time he published a multitude of small
political pamphlets, several of which were in defence
of the Hanoverian succession, and against the pre¬
tender. He died in the rules of the King’s-bench, in
the year 1738, when he was upwards of fourscore.
ASH. See Fraxinus, Botany Index.
ASHANTEE, an extensive territory of western
Africa, situated immediately behind the states which
occupy the Gold coast. This kingdom, which was but
lately known to Europeans, seems to be the most power¬
ful, civilized, and commercial of any on the western
coast of Africa. Since 1806 they have had various
wars with the tribes on the coast, and from their su¬
perior courage and skill, are likely to conquer this
■whole region.
AsH-Hole, among chemists, is the lowest part of a
furnace ; and is intended to receive the ashes falling
from the fire, and to give a passage to the air which is
to be introduced into the furnace, to keep up the com¬
bustion.
Asil-Wednesday, the first day of Lent; supposed to
have been so called from a custom in the church, of
sprinkling ashes that day on the heads of penitents then
admitted to penance. See Lent.
ASHBORN, a town in Derbyshire, seated between
the rivers Dove and Compton, over which there is a
stone bridge, in a rich soil. It is a pretty large town,
and contained 2112 inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. 1.
35. N. Lat. 53. o.
ASHBURTON, a town in Devonshire. It sends
two members to parliament, and is one of the four stan-
nery towns. It is seated among the hills, which are
remarkable for tin and copper ; and has a very hand¬
some church. It contained 3^53 inhabitants in 1811.
It gives title of Baron to the family of Dunning.
W. Long. 3. 10. N. Lat. 50. 30.
ASHBY DE LA Zouch, a market-town of Leicester¬
shire, situated in W. Long. 1. 20. N. Lat. 52. 40. It
had a castle which was long in the possession of the fa*-
Ashmole.
ASH
It afterwards fell into the hands Ashby dels
of Edward IV. who granted it to Sir Edward Hastings, Zouch
created Baron Hastings, with license to make a castle
of the manor-house, to which he adjoined a very high _
tower. It was demolished in 1648 ; but a great part
of the tower is still standing. The town contained
3141 inhabitants in 1811.
ASHDOD, or Azotus. See Azotus.
ASHES, the earthly particles of combustible sub¬
stances after they have been burnt.
If the ashes ax*e produced from vegetable bodies they
contain a considerable quantity of fixed salt, blended
with earthy particles : and from these ashes the fixed
alkaline salts caWedi pot-ash, pearl-ash, &c. are extract¬
ed. See Chemistry hidex.
The ashes of all vegetables are vitrifiable, and found
to contain iron.—-They are also an excellent manure for
cold and wet grounds.
Several religious ceremonies depend upon the use of
ashes. St Jerome relates, that the Jews in his timq
rolled themselves in ashes, as a sign of mourning. To
repent in sackcloth and ashes, is a frequent expression
in Scripture for mourning, and being afflicted for our
sins. There was a sort of ley and lustral water made
with the ashes of a heifer sacrificed upon the great
day of expiation ; the ashes whereof were distributed
to the people, and this water was used in purifications,
as often as any touched a dead body, or was present at
funerals, (Numb. xix. 17.). Tamar after the injury
received from her brother Amnon, covered her head
with ashes, (2 Sam. xiii. 9.). The Psalmist in great
sorrow says, that he had eaten ashes as if it wei’e bread,
(Ps. cii. 9.) ; which, however, is to be considered as
an hyperbole. He sat on ashes, he threw ashes on his
head ; his food, his bread, was spoiled with the ashes
wherewith he was covered.
The ancient Persians had a sort of punishment for
some great criminals, which consisted in executing them
in ashes. The criminal was thrown headlong from a
tower 50 cubits high, which was filled with ashes to a
particular height, (2 Mac. xiii. 5. 6.). The motion
which the criminal used to disengage himsell from this
place, plunged him still deeper into it, and this agi¬
tation was further increased by a wheel which stirred
the ashes continually about till at last he was stifled.
ASHFORD, a market town of Kent, situated about
12 miles south-west of Canterbury, in E. Long. 45..
and N. Lat. 51. 15.
ASHLAR, a term used among builders ; by which
they mean common or free stones, as they come out 01
the quarry, of different lengths and thicknesses.
ASHLERING, among builders, signifies quarter¬
ing, to lath to, in garrets, about two and a half or
three feet high, perpendicular to the floor, up to the
under side of the rafters.
ASHMOLE, Elias, an industrious English anti¬
quarian, and an eminent philosopher of the 17th cen¬
tury, was born at Litchfield in 1617* Having enjoyed
the advantages of a country education, he went to
London at the age of 16, and resided in the family ot
James Paget, Esq. one of the barons of the exchequer,
and then turned his attention to the law and other
branches of literature. In the year 1638, he married,
and commenced the business of attorney in London.
When
A S H f 7
Ashmole, When the civil war began, he then being a widower,
—-v——j entered into the king’s service in the ordnance de¬
partment. When residing in the city of Oxford in
that capacity, he entered Brazen Nose college, and be¬
gan the study of natural philosophy, mathematics, and
astronomy. Naturally inclined to grave and scientific
trifles, he wandered too far into the wilds of astrologi¬
cal imposture, not a little encouraged by several eminent
men ol that age. From the same cause, he entered
keenly into the secrets of masonry, and made consider¬
able additions to the history of that sect.
When Worcester was surrendered to the parliament
in 1646, Ashmole retired to London, where he became
acquainted with the famous astrologers, Moore, Lilly,
^and Booker.
Having retired to Berkshire in the year following,
he added the knowledge of botany to his other ac¬
quirements. There he became acquainted with Lady
Mainwaring, a well-jointured widow, whom he married
in 16495 and although her estate was sequestered on
account of his loyalty, yet through the interest of Lilly
and others, he again recovered his property, and after¬
wards settled in London, where his house became the
resort of all the curious literati of the place. A taste
for chemistry, or rather alchemy, was produced, by his
conversation with William Blackhouse 5 and Ashmole,
under a feigned name, published a work upon that sub¬
ject. The next effort of his industry, was a collection
of the manuscripts of English alchemy, which he pub¬
lished under the title of Theatrum Chymicum Britanni-
cuniy in 4to. This work was the effect of great labour
and much expence 5 and although it procured him much
fame among the learned, yet it was only a collection of
Alchemy; and he appears to have been ignorant of real
chemical knowledge. About this period, he began to
number among his acquaintances, Selden, Oughtred,
and Dr Wharton.
The wealth he acquired by his marriage engaged
him in several disputes, and the lady herself at last
made an attack upon him in chancery, but he was
honourably acquitted, and the lady restored to her
affectionate husband. His active industry never wea¬
ried out, and he next attended to the study of antiqui¬
ty and the investigation of records. Along with Sir
AV. Dugdale, he about this period traced a Roman
road to Litchfield. Abandoning all other pursuits, he
began to make preparations for his “ History of the or¬
der of the Garter5” a production which procured him
lasting fame. Upon a visit to Oxford, he gave a full
description of the coins bequeathed to that university by
Laud ; and about this time, John Tradescant, the fa¬
mous gardener of Lambeth, presented him with the
collection of curiosities, which both he and his father
had procured.
Upon the restoration, Ashmole was greatly respect¬
ed by the king, who made him Windsor\he'rald, and
employed him to give a description of the royal me¬
dals. The offices of commissioner and comptroller of
excise were conferred upon him 5 and being called to
the bar in the Middle Temple, he was afterwards ad¬
mitted a fellow of the Royal Society. The university
of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of doctor of
physic 5 and several other employments and emolu¬
ments were given him, until he rose to the highest
eminence in the literary world. About this time his
l8 ]
A S I
second wife died, and he married the daughter of his Ashraole
friend Sir W. Dugdale. In May 1762, he addressed Asia,
his great work on the order of the Garter to the king,l——v—
entitled “ Hie institution, laws, and ceremonies of'
the most noble order of the Garter 5 collected and di¬
gested into one body, by Elias Ashmole of the Mid¬
dle Temple, Esq. Windsor herald at arms,” folio,
London, 1672. In favour of his brother-in-law, Mr
Dugdale, he resigned his office of herald of Windsor ;
and when offered the office of garter king-at-arms, he
declined it in favour of Sir W. Dugdale. About this
time a fire broke out in one of the chambers of the
temple adjacent to his, and consumed a library which
he had been collecting during the course of thirty-
three years, together with 9000 coins, and many valu¬
able antiquities} but his manuscripts and gold medals
fortunately were saved. In 1683, he sent his manu¬
scripts and curiosities to the university of Oxford, which
laid the foundation of the Musceum Ashmoleanum, still
in Oxford. On the death of Sir W. Dugdale, he re¬
fused a second time the office which he held. At the ad¬
vanced age of 76, he died, and was interred in the
church of Great Lambeth. Industry, perseverance,
curiosity, and accuracy, appear to have been the leading
features in bis character. (Gen. Biog.).
ASIA, according to the ancients, was one of the
three great divisions of the earth, and is considered bv
the moderns as one of the four quarters of the habitable
globe. Its extent is immense ; audits importance, both
in a historical and in a philosophical point of view, is
Very great. It contains every variety of soil and cli¬
mate, and is inhabited by nations which possess un¬
doubted claims to the highest antiquity. When Eu¬
rope was yet covered by deep forests, thinly inhabited
by a few wild animals, or by a barbarous race of men,
destitute of science, and even of the meanest of those
accommodations which the progress of art now enables
all classes of people to enjoy, Asia abounded with
flourishing cities and populous nations, in which com¬
merce and agriculture had reached a considerable mea¬
sure of improvement. t
The revolutions which have occurred in different re-The couii*
gions of the great Asiatic continent, occupy a great tiies of Asia
space in the general history of the human race. These1? be con’
revolutions have possessed this peculiar character, that connected
when they commenced in one quarter of Asia, we most with each
frequently find that they extended themselves, in a fewother.
years, to the remotest regions, and even sometimes in¬
to the centre of Europe. As the human mind usually
derives its character from the situation in which it is
placed, we shall be enabled, by attention to the soil and
climate, and geographical position of the principal
parts of Asia, to form some general principles from
which to deduce the causes that have influenced the
destiny of the nations by which it is inhabited. With¬
out enlightened notions of general geography, history
degenerates into a mere detail of romantic adventures,
and no valuable progress can be made in political or
in commercial science. We shall here therefore give
a general description of this vast continent, consider¬
ing it, as far as possible, as one great whole, the va¬
rious parts of which have at times possessed an in¬
fluence over each other 5 leaving its particular districts
and countries, to be separately discussed as they occur
in the arrangement of our work, unless in such in¬
stances
a s i r -
Asia. stances as may seem to claim special notice from the
  v   singularity of their nature, or the recentness of the
period at which time they have come to the knowledge
3 of the European nations.
Boundaries Beginning with its north-west corner adjoining to
jfAsia. Europe, the boundary of Asia commences at Waigats
straits, opposite to the island of Nova Zembla, in
what is called the Northern ocean or Ic?j sea. From
thence the boundary extends southward along the U-
ralian chain of mountains, which are thus accounted
half European and half Asiatic. After leaving these
mountains, Asia is understood by geographers, to pro¬
ceed in a south-westerly direction, through the pro¬
vinces of the Russian empire, till it meets the river
Don, where it approaches nearest to the Wolga. Pro¬
ceeding along the river Don, it enters into the Black
sea, which it crosses diagonally, proceeding to the south¬
west through the straits of the Bosphorus, at Constan¬
tinople, and through the Propontis and Hellespont ;
from whence turning south it proceeds through the Ar¬
chipelago, and the eastern part of the Mediterranean sea
called the Levant, to the isthmus of Suez, a narrow neck
of land of 60 miles over, which divides Asia from Afri¬
ca. The remaining part of the western boundary of
Asia, is formed by the Red sea or Arabian gulf, which
is connected with the Arabian sea, by the strait of Ba-
belmandel.
The southern boundary of Asia, is formed by the
great Indian ocean, under a variety of names derived
from the different parts of the Asiatic coast, which are
washed by its waters. Along the whole of this south¬
ern boundary, the ocean and the land alternately en¬
croach upon each other, thereby forming immense bays
and gulfs of the ocean, and peninsulated tracts of
land. Thus to the eastward of the straits of Babel-
mandel, the Indian ocean advances northward under
the appellation of the Arabian sea, having the penin¬
sula of Arabia on the west, and the western peninsula
of India on the east. Penetrating still farther north,
it receives the name of the gulf of Ormus, and after¬
wards of the Persian gulf, which advances very far
in a north-westerly direction, having Arabia on the
south-west, and Persia on the north-east. The same
Arabian sea in its north-eastern extremity, making a
slighter inroad upon the land, receives the river Indus
on the east of Persia, and is called the gulf of Scindi.
To the eastward of the nearest peninsula of India, the
same Indian ocean forms a most extensive gulf, called
the bay of Bengal, bounded on the east and west by the
two Indian peninsulas. The farther peninsula stretches
to a great distance southward under the name of Afa-
lacca, beyond which the boundaries of the continent
assume in general an easterly direction, more especially
after passing the gulf of Siam, immediately beyond
Malacca and the gulf of Tonkin, on the boundaries
of China and of the farther India. The Chinese em¬
pire encroaches eastward upon the great Pacific ocean,
which is here the boundary of Asia. Its coasts are suf¬
ficiently regular. Its bays and gulfs are trifling when
compared with those of the Indian ocean, although to¬
wards its northern extremity, the Pacific ocean, under
the name of the Yellow sea, advances into the continent,
forming to the eastward the peninsula of Corea, of mo¬
derate extent. After which this eastern ocean passing
the isles of Japan, at a great distance to the north, again
'19 ] A S I
encroaches on the land, forming the sea or great bay Asia,
of Ochotsk, which has the peninsula of Kamtschatka-y-—J
on its eastern side, and the country of Siberia or the
mainland ot Asia on the west. Beyond Kamtschatka
one more gulf is formed in that direction, called the
sea of Anadyr, terminating in the gulf of Notchen, to
which succeeds the peninsula of Tschutski, stretching to
the eastward, till it approaches the coast of America at
the bay of St L aurence. After which, turning to the
westward, the Asiatic continent is entirely bounded on
its northern side by the Icy sea, forming obscure gulfs
and promontories, of which little knowledge has yet
been obtained, and which can never be of much im¬
portance to the human race. 3
The great continent whose general outline we have Extent of
thus slightly traced, must necessarily vary consider-t*ie
ably in breadth and length, according to the pointsCOiltinent*
from which an estimate of its mensuration is formed.
Some idea, however, may be obtained of the territory
included in it, from observing that the continent of Asia,
from the Hellespont at 26° of E. Long, extends to near¬
ly 190° E. Long, at East Cape, or to the 170° of W.
Long, being a line of 164° or 9500 geographic miles,
allowing 60 miles to a degree. The extreme breadth of
this continent, from the south cape of Malacca, in
2° of N. Lat. to Cape Severo Yostochnoi, in 770 N.
Lat. amounts to about 4500 geographic miles. Hence
the length of the continent of Asia is not less than 7583
British miles, and its breadth from south to north is
about 5250. 4
That the relative situation of the nations inhabiting Relative
this continent may be rightly understood, it is neces-position of
sary to remark that the centre of Asia consists of an t^e^n.a^on*
immense and irregular plain, which is elevated to avast
height above the surrounding countries, and extends ^
some thousand miles in every direction. This elevated High re¬
region or high level of land, stands aloft like a table, and S*on in the
is supported by a crest or front of lofty and precipitous^”^*
rocks, which overlook in every direction the surrounding
regions. The high level, or elevated territory, which
these rocks surround and seem to uphold on all sides,
constitutes the proper country of Tartary. The climate,
even in latitude 27°, which elsewhere is extremely hot,
is here very cold, and the soil is barren. In some direc¬
tions, to the extent of 1000 miles, nothing is to be found
but frightful deserts, covered with moving sands, which
at times are carried aloft, as in Arabia and Africa, by
the winds. They are rendered passable by ridges of
mountains which divide them \ and the summits of these
mountains are covered with perpetual snow. Even
where the soil seems more favourable, only the hardiest
plants and trees can flourish in this barren region,
whose inhabitants have in all ages remained in the
pastoral state, subsisting by the produce of their flocks
and herds, without engaging in the labours of agricul¬
ture. 6
This vast upland tract, which is probably the high-
est region of the old hemisphere, and which forms the tion of the
largest extent of continued elevated land upon the countries of
globe, contains in general the tract or countries of theAs,a’
Kalmucs, of the Mongols, Thibet, and Eastern Tur¬
kestan, or the original country of the Turks. From
th6 borders of this tract in the centre of Asia, the
great rivers of that continent descend towards the
ocean in every direction j such as the Oxas and Jaxartes
or.
A S I [ 720 ] A S I
Asja, on the west, the Amur on the east, the Ganges and
1  y—Burrampooter on the south, and the Oby and Jenisea on
the north.. The countries that surround this tract are,
Cleog. of therefore, justly considered by Major Rennel and
Hn-odot. others, as a kind of inclined planes or hanging levels,
or descents along the skirts of it, seeing the waters
flow so regularly and uninterruptedly from it, as from a
common centre, to all the surrounding seas. On the
south of this elevated region, are the vast countries of
India, descending gradually to the great southern or
Indian ocean. They receive from their exposure the
fiercest rays of a tropical sun, and are sheltered by the
rocky front of the high country behind them from
every northern blast. On the west of the elevated
tract, are the countries which formed the ancient Per¬
sian empire, and which, in like manner, descend gra¬
dually, though more irregularly, towards the setting
sun, and the territory of Europe. On the east of the
high table, or elevated central region, is the immense
empire of China, descending with its rivers towards
the great Pacific or Eastern ocean. On the north of
the same region is Siberia, descending gradually to the
Icy sea. The high country to the south intercepts
from Siberia the heated air which might otherwise
advance towards it from a more fervid climate, while
its gradual descent towards the north exposes it unpro¬
tected to every blast that may ascend from the icy re¬
gions of the pole, and thus the climate is rendered as
much too cold in proportion to its latitude, as India
is too hot. The soil, however, of Siberia, is in many
places equal in fertility to that of almost any other
country of the globe, and it has only been prevented
from rising into importance, by the intolerable seve¬
rity of a long winter, which has always operated as a
tax upon the industry of its inhabitants, to prevent any
great increase of population. Its rivers are bound up
during half the year, under a covering of almost im¬
penetrable ice ; and the ocean into which they flow,
can at no season be navigated with safety, a circum¬
stance which banishes those resources which an exten¬
sive commerce might afford, to compensate the evils of
7 the climate.
Alluvions It may here be remarked, that the rivers which de-
of the Asia-scen(j towards the south, from the high centre of Asia,
ic rivers, through countries subject to periodical rainy seasons,
have by their alluvions, or by carrying dewn immense
quantities of mud and earth, formed vast fertile plains
near the sea coasts, similar in their nature to the Delta,
or rich, valley of Lower Egypt. Accordingly, in the
south of Asia, from Persia to China 5 near the mouths
of the Indus, the Ganges, and other rivers, immense
tracts of level country are found, which are periodi¬
cally overflowed, and which, aided by the warmth of
the climate, exhibit a degree of fertility in all the
productions of the vegetable world, of which in our
temperate and colder regions we have little concep-
g tion.
Boundaries The high level of which we have now spoken, which
of the high is of so much importance both to the geography and
to the history of Asia, is bounded, as already mention¬
ed, on all sides by a crest or ridge of mountains, ad¬
joining to which are lesser chains of hills, which gra¬
dually subside in the neighbouring low countries. The
great ridge called Imaus by the ancients, or the Indian
Caucasus, is properly the crest or front of the western
declivity towards Persia. The part of this crest or Asia,
the front of the high level towards the south was an- i——-y—j
ciently called Emoclus, and sometimes also Imaus, of
which it is a continuation. The modern name is Hin-
doo-Kho.—The northern front of the high territory
which overlooks the Baikal lake, and the whole length
of Siberia, is of immense extent, and is usually called
by historians the Altaic ridge or chain. The appella¬
tion of the front of the same high country towards Chi¬
na is little known to European geographers, but it forms
in itself nothing more than a continuation of the ridges
of Imaus and Altai surrounding the high country of
Tartary. 9
This high country or elevated level, which may with Chain of
propriety be called Grand Tartary, sends forth in dif- mountains
ferent directions various ramifications of itself, or chains
of mountains, to the utmost extremities of Asia. Thus high iey£j
it sends forth eastward a chain of mountains to the
gulf of Corea to the northward of Pekin. This chain
appears like a continuation of the Altaic mountains,
which may thus be considered as proceeding from the
70° to the 140° of east longitude, or about 5000 miles.
Another mountainous chain proceeds north-eastward to
the gulf or sea of Ochotsk opposite Kamtschatka. A
similar ridge, called the Uralian chain, proceeds to the
north-west, and terminating in the vicinity of Nova
Zembla, within the polar circle, has already been men¬
tioned as one of the boundaries which divide Asia from
Eui'ope. Another chain, better known to both an¬
cient and modern writers, proceeds from Imaus, or the
front of the great high level, westward, under the cele¬
brated name of Mount Taurus, and terminates in the
Mediterranean sea at the peninsula of Lesser Asia.
This important ridge has on the one side, or to the
south, a great part of the ancient Persian empire, and
on the north the great salt lake called the Caspian sea,
and also the Black sea, with the high country of Geor¬
gia between them, which anciently received the appel¬
lation of the Grecian Caucasus.
A great tract of low country which lies to the east
and to the north of the Caspian, and proceeds westward
along the shores of the Black sea, also receives from
modern geographers the appellation of Tartary, and was yyestern
anciently denominated Scythia. Hence what is called Tartary.
Tartary must be j’egarded as consisting of two very di¬
stinct tracts of country situated upon vei'y different le¬
vels. Eastern Tartary, lying beyond the mountains of
Imaus and southward of the mountains of Altai, consti¬
tutes the high level or elevated central region of Asia j
whereas the country called Tartary situated upon the
Caspian and the Black seas, now sometimes called
Russian Tartary, is not only situated upon a lower le¬
vel, but instead of consisting of a horizontal plane, it
lies upon a south exposui’e, and its rivers, such as the
Wolga and the Don, descend southward into the Cas¬
pian and the Black seas, which are placed along the
northern basis of the ridge of mountains anciently deno¬
minated Taurus. Beyond the sources of the Don and
the Wolga, however, the country begins to descend to¬
wards the polar cii-cle and the Icy sea, like the rest of
Siberia, of which it partakes the name. ir
In all ages Asia might be divided into two regions j Ada divi-
the civilized, containing men who cultivated the soil vjded into ^
and lived in cities j and the barbarous, whose inhabi- ^
tants subsisted by liunting or by the pastoral life. To ro„s
the
A S I
[
tus con¬
cerning
Asia.
Asia. the former belonged the three countries which descend
'—-'v—from the elevated region of Asia on the east, the south,
and the west, forming the empires of China, of India,
and the ancient Persian empire, extending to the Hel¬
lespont. To the barbarous or uncivilized nations have
always belonged the far more extensive tracts of Sibe¬
ria, of High Tartary, and of the Western or Lower
Tartary, which lies to the north of the Caspian sea, of
Mount Caucasus, and of the Black sea. On the south¬
west of Asia also a different race of barbarians, engaged
in a great measure in a similar life of pasturage, under
the denomination of Arabs, have occupied an immense
portion of territory ; and both of these classes of bar¬
barians, the Tartars of the east and north, and the
Arabs of the south-west, have at times acted a most im¬
portant part in the affairs of Asia, and even of Eu¬
rope ; and by their movements have decided the des-
r2 tiny of nations.
Knowledge "I he knowledge of the ancients concerning Asia ap-
6t Herodo- pears to have been extremely limited. Herodotus, like
all the ancient writers, admitted the existence of a
northern ocean, upon the shores of which the Hyper¬
boreans were supposed to exist, a peaceful race of men,
upon whom nobody made war, and who never distur¬
bed the tranquillity of other nations. He was also
acquainted with the existence of various Scythian, or,
as we now call them, Tartar tribes, inhabiting the
country to the north of the Black sea and the Caspian,
and upon the river Jaxaxtes, which he understood to
flow into the lake Aral to the eastward of the Caspian.
But Herodotus did not believe in the existence of an
eastern ocean, or that Asia was in that quarter bound¬
ed by the sea. He also extended Europe indefinitely
to the east, including all in that division of the globe
that lies to the northward of Mount Caucasus and the
Caspian sea. To the eastward of what he called Asia,
that is, the Persian empire, he considered India as the
last inhabited country, asserting, that “ the Indians
are the people of Asia that are nearest the east and the
place of the rising sun.” Beyond India he confessed
that he knew nothing. “ As far as India (says he)
Asia is well inhabited j but from India eastward the
whole country is one vast desert, unknown and unex¬
plored.” In these times, therefore, it is certain that
the Greeks knew nothing of the vast empire of China
and its dependencies, or of the peninsula beyond the
Ganges, which forms the eastern division of India. In¬
deed it would appear that the elevated region of Tar¬
tary formed in these early times an impenetrable
barrier which divided the western nations of Asia
from those on the east. Neither does it appear that
Herodotus was well acquainted with the southern fron¬
tiers even of Persia and Arabia. The whole Arabian
sea, including the Arabic gulf, was called the Erythre-
an or Red sea ; but he does not seem to have known
that the sea bordering upon the ancient kingdom of
Persia or Persia Proper, is itself nothing more than a
gulf like that which divides Arabia from Egypt and
Ethiopia, to which the name of Red sea is now exclu-
sively confined.
'he Mace- It is a circumstance not a little singular, that the
onian ex- visit of Alexander the Great to India through Persia
ihhf^Tth ^ by 110 nieans extend the limits which preceding geo-
eogriphy1 ?raP^ers assigned to Asia. A correct knowledge
f Asia of the coast of the conquered empire of Persia was in-
Vol. II. Part II. f
21 ] A S I
deed acquired, but neither to the east nor to the north Asia,
was any knowledge gained. The high ridge of Imaus, ■—~v—
forming the front of the elevated region of Tartary, was
denominated by the geographers of Alexander the
Indian Caucasus, probably from some obscure notion,
that this ridge was a continuance of the mountains of
that name between the Euxine and Caspian seas. Be¬
yond India also he admitted of no tract of land what¬
ever, thus making India the most eastern country of
Asia, and consequently of the whole earth, although
Herodotus had placed a vast desert beyond it. But it
is probable that this diminution of territory to the east¬
ward might be a sacrifice to the vanity of Alexander,
who wished to imagine, and to make others believe,
that he had approached the world’s boundary. In ano¬
ther point also the geography of Asia was falsified by
the follow'ers of this conqueror. Herodotus had right¬
ly described the Caspian sea as a great lake, but the
followers of Alexander imagined they had discovered
it to be a gulf of the northern ocean. With this
ocean, therefore, they vrere under the necessity of sup¬
posing it to communicate by a narrow channel ; a cir¬
cumstance which led them to limit the continent to a ’
very trifling extension northward. The knowledge
which Herodotus possessed concerning the unconnected
state of the Caspian in respect of other seas being thus
lost, its geographical position as a lake remained un¬
known in the times of Eratosthenes, Strabo, and Pliny.
It was, however, regained in the age of Ptolemy, who
restored its form of a lake, but under such dimensions
and proportions as demonstrate that the smaller lake,
called Aral, which is 200 miles to the eastward, was
mistaken for a part of it.
The most remarkable feature in the ancient Greek Mount
and Homan descriptions of Asia, that is, of the coun-Taurus of
try to the westward of Imaus, and to the south of thetliean'
Caspian sea, is the high ridge of mountains which theycients'
in general denominated Taurus. This ridge was to
them as it were a line of separation between two worlds,
the civilized and the barbarous j or two climates, the
warm and fertile, and the cold and barren. As Taurus,
however, is at times broken into distinct chains of
mountains which occasionally alter their general direc¬
tion, various names were ascribed to particular parts of
it, such as Niphates, Caspius, Paropamisus, Caucasus,
Emodus, &c. The general, chain, however, or the
Taurus of the ancient geographers, originated in the
south-west extremity of what they called Asia Minor,
that is, the small part of Asia embraced between the
Euxine or Black sea on the north, the straits of the
Hellespont and the Dardanelles on the west, and the
Levant or eastern part of the Mediterranean sea on the
south. The ridge of Taurus was understood to pass
eastward through lesser Asia at no great distance from
the shores of the Levant. From thence, in its course
eastward, it separated Armenia from Mesopotamia, the
two countries called Media from each other, and the
greater Media from the narrow tract along the southern
border of the Caspian sea. Opposite to the south end
of the Caspian its inferior ridges were divided by a j.
vast chasm called the Caspian straits, which was with The Cas-
the ancients an important geographical point, being piaa strait,
supposed to be in the same parallel with Issus and
Rhodes. This remai’kable chasm or strait formed the
best road or passage from Media, Mesopotamia, and the
4 Y western
AST [7
Asia. western countries in general, to Partlila, Hyrcania,
  ' Aria, and others on the east, because by it considerable
deserts to the south might be avoided. Alexander the
Great passed through it in his way from Kages towards
Aria and Bactria. It is at present called the strait of
Khoward, from a town or district in the neighbourhood,
and is almost due north from Ispahan: it is eight miles
through, and is in general not more than 40 yards in
breadth. Pliny says, that it is only wide enough for a
carriage, and modern writers have said that where it is
narrowest and most winding, a litter can scarcely pass.
The mountains are very lofty on each side. The bot¬
tom is upon the whole flat, and at certain seasons a con¬
siderable stream of salt water flows along it towards the
desert on the south.
After having passed the south-east corner of the Cas¬
pian, Taurus proceeding farther eastward, was under¬
stood by the ancients, and represented, as separating the
countries of Parthia, Margiana, and Bactria, on the
north, from those of Aria, Drangiana, and the north¬
western provinces of India, watered by the heads of the
Indus. Here Taurus was known to meet the lofty
ridge of Imaus, which we have already mentioned as
the western front of the elevated region that forms the
centre of Asia. But as this general account of the opi¬
nions of the ancients concerning the course of these
mountains can give little idea of the general level of the
countries through which they pass, we shall here notice
more particularly the elevation of these countries, and
the way in which they are divided from each other. In
doing so we shall chiefly follow the authority of the
learned and accurate Major Rennel; and we prefer the
use of ancient appellations to the names assigned to these
provinces by the barbarians who now inhabit or rather
wander over them.
We have said, that from Imaus, or from the high
region of central Asia, or Great Tartary, the country
descends gradually towards the west, forming what was
fcom Iijiaus,called Asia by the ancients, but what was in truth lit¬
tle more than the Persian empire. In departing from
Imaus, however, the country is very elevated, and vari¬
ous ridges occur, which gradually, after assuming a va¬
riety of forms, unite in the ridge which terminates far to
the west at the extremities of the Lesser Asia, and was
called Mount Taurus, as already stated. In their pro¬
gress the valleys or ordinary country near these mouu-
tains gradually becomes lower as it proceeds towards
the west, and the mountains themselves decline in height.
Even in the west, however, the mountains appear not a
little elevated. . .
Most west- Returning from the west, or beginning with the pe-
erly territo-mnsula of Asia or Asia Minor, which is enclosed on
Tj lowest j4;ree sJdes hy the Mediterranean, AEgean, and Euxine
seas, it is to be remarked that even this tract acquires,
speedily a considerable elevation; but the southern part
of Lesser Asia towards the Mediterranean is by far tbe
highest, being tbe proper Taurus itself, rising abruptly
from the neighbourhood of tbe sea-coast, and turning
the courses of the principal waters towards the Euxine
18 sea on the north.
Second por- yj)e next portion of territory is still more elevated,
tion high(-i*extending from the Euxine to the Caspian sea. To
the north it sends forth a tract of very mountainous
country called Caucasus, or the modern Georgia, which
overlooks the Sarmatian plains, or, in other words, the
3
22
Asia.
16
Elevation
or level of
countries
westward
19
] A S 1
desert of Astracan, and the country of the Tartars
called Don Cossacs, being the low lands on the north 1
both of the Euxine and Caspian seas. Southwards this
high region, which is a part of the Taurus of the an¬
cients, overlooks the vast low countries, in which are
contained the kingdoms or states of Syria, Mesopota¬
mia, Assyria, and Babylonia, and even tbe great Ara¬
bian desert. The ancient divisions of this high region
were called Cappadocia, Armenia, Pontus, Colchis,
Iberia, Albania, the country of the Carduchians, and a
part of Media. It seems to be the highest continued
tract of territory in Western Asia, giving rise to tbe ri¬
vers Euphrates, Tigris, Cyrus, Araxes, Ilypanis or Ku¬
ban, and Phasis, which flow from it in different direc¬
tions towards the Euxine or Caspian seas, or the Per¬
sian gulf. It is worthy of remark, that in the higher
parts of this region two great salt lakes are to be
found.
Advancing eastward is a third portion of still more Eastern
elevated territory, extending from the Caspian sea totlact^»^*
the lofty Imaus, or western crest of tbe great Asiatic e
highlands. This third region is still higher than the
two former parts of the tract of Mount Taurus. Its
breadth is very various. Its western quarter is limited
by the approach towards each other of the Caspian and
Persian seas ; hut the high country expands to a much
greater breadth beyond the Caspian, till it is again nar¬
rowed on its approach to Imaus by two valleys, along
the one of which flows the river Indus to the south,
and along the other the Oxus to the north-west, an¬
ciently terminating in the Caspian sea, but now in the
sea or lake of Aral. Of this third portion of the high
country of Western Asia the northern part between
the Caspian sea and Mount Imaus contains the ancient
Parthia, Margiana, and Sogdiana, which overlook to¬
wards the north the low countries of Western Tartary,
in that quarter called Chorasmia, and the seats of the
Massagetae (the ancient Magog) at the Jaxartes. The
middle part of the high country contains Aria and
Bactriana, adjoining on the east to Mount Imaus. The
southern part of the same elevated region contains Per¬
sia Proper, Carmania, Arachosia, &c. which towards the
Persian gulf are bordered by the low tract of mari¬
time Persia. The highest continuous ridge of this ter¬
ritory is that which passes by tbe south east of the Cas¬
pian sea and Hy rcania, between Hrangiana on the south
and Aria on the north, and from thence between Bac¬
triana and the provinces of India ; where, as it ap¬
proaches Imaus, which, as already stated, is the front of
a yet more elevated region, it swells to an immense mag¬
nitude and height, and is covered with snow annually
till the month of August. 20
From this tract of elevated country, which we have Lateral
thus described as gradually increasing in height from ridges of
the Mediterranean to Mount Imaus, various lateral ^aurus*
ridges project towards the souths forming between
them different hollow basons or low countries. But
these southern projections are not equal in altitude to
the great chain that proceeds from west to east. I he
most westerly of these cross ridges is that which begins
from the body of Taurus, near the place where it is
crossed hy tbe Euphrates, at tiie northern extremity of
Syria. The ridge proceeds to the south, inclining to
the west, and forms a kind of mound or dam, skirting
the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, under the
names
<
A S I [723] A S I
Ash. names of Amanus, Lebanon, &c. Having passed the
v—-y——' Mediterranean and the southern border of Palestine, it
advances to the eastern coast of the Red sea, where it
spreads out, and forms the centre of Arabia, finally
terminating in what is called Arabia Felix, or the south¬
ern part of the Arabian peninsula.
Farther to the east another ridge proceeds towards
the south, which was called by the Greeks 7jagros,
and advances to the neighbourhood of the Persian gulf.
Between this last ridge on the east, and the former, or
Syrian ridge, on the west, and Taurus on the north,
is a great valley or tract of low country that formed
the ancient empire of Assyria, which was guarded in
this manner by a wall of mountains on three sides, and
by the Persian gulf and the Arabian desert on the south.
It is watered by the fertilizing streams of the Tigi-is
and Euphrates, upon which Nineveh and Babylon for¬
merly stood. To the eastward the country becomes
more dry and elevated. Passing through Media, a
great salt desert occupies the centre of the country,
having Persia Proper on the south, and Parthia on the
north j and continuing still to ascend, the mountains be¬
come more numerous and less regular, in proportion as
they approach Imaus. These regions, however, are of
great importance in ancient history as the seats of civili¬
zation and of empire, though they are now sunk into ob¬
scurity, and a prey in a great measure to tribes of bar¬
barians, who wander over them with their flocks and
herds, and reside in tents. The eastern part of the coun¬
tries known to the ancients as Asia, or rather as the Per¬
sian empire, still retains that name ; but to the westward
of the Euphrates Asia belongs to Turkey, excepting the
great country or peninsula of Arabia, of which we shall
here take some general notice.
Arabia. This country is worthy of the utmost attention in a
historical point of view, on account of the influence
which its inhabitants have had upon a great part of the
nations of Asia, and consequently upon a large portion
of the human race. They have contrived to extend
themselves farther over the world than almost any other
people, and have preserved in all situations more strong¬
ly than other nations, their language, religion, manners,
and peculiar customs. From the river Senegal, on the
west coast of Africa, to the Indus, colonies of Arabs are
to be met with, and also from the heads of the Euphra¬
tes on the north to the island of Madagascar. Even the
Tartar hordes have scarcely occupied a wider extent on
the globe.
Boundaries Arabia, properly so called, is that great peninsula
of Arabia, formed by the Red sea, or Arabic gulf, on the west,
the Indian ocean, or Arabian sea, on the south, and the
Persian gulf on the north-east. Accordingly, the an¬
cients appear to have comprehended under the name of
Arabia, the whole tract lying between those seas and
a line drawn from the point of the Persian gult to that
of the Arabic gulf. This line, however, was never
the real boundary of the country, which appears to
have at all times extended northwards to a great di¬
stance, and to have been limited on one side by the ri¬
ver Euphrates, and on the west by Syria, Palestine,
and the isthmus of Suez. Thus Arabia may be re¬
garded as a vast but irregular triangle. From the
northern point at. Beles, where Xenophon and the
Greeks first passed the Euphrates, to the straits of Ba-
belmandel, is a line of 1500 miles, forming the west¬
ern side of the triangle, while its southern basis presents Asia,
a front of 1000 miles to the Indian ocean. The me- —y—
dium breadth of the peninsula from Bassora on the Per¬
sian gulf to Suez on the Red sea is upwards of 700
miles. The entire surface of the country, therefore,
exceeds France or Germany in a fourfold proportion.
Being situated from 130 to 30° of N. Lat. and of
consequence partly between the tropics, its climate
must necessarily be regarded as hot. In some pro¬
vinces, indeed, the heat is excessive 5 but in this coun¬
try, as in others, the degrees of elevation of the soil
produce effects upon the temperature which set aside
all calculations that might be founded upon the gene¬
ral principle of the vicinity or remoteness of the torrid
zone. To understand the varieties of climate that ex¬
ist in Arabia, it is necessary to attend to the form and
aspect of its surface. The whole centre of the Arabian
peninsula, or interior country, consists of a succession
of mountains. Around the foot of these mountains,
adjacent to the sea-coast, is a belt of flat ground. This
belt surrounds the whole of the Arabian peninsula.
It proceeds along the shores of the Red Sea, of the In¬
dian ocean, and of the Persian gulf. Even the desert
of Syria on the north may be considered as a part of
this belt. It extends everywhere to the distance of
about two days journey from the sea, and is denomina¬
ted Tehama by the Arabs. This belt of flat land is
dry and sandy, and presents one unvaried picture of de¬
solation. It bears every mai'k of having been ancient¬
ly a part of the bed of the sea. Its bottom soil is a
grayish clay, with a large proportion of sand, and hav¬
ing remains of marine animals interspersed to a great
distance from the shore. It contains large strata of
salt, which in some places even rise up into hills. Its
regular inclination towards the sea indicates that it has
emerged gradually } and the sea seems still continuing
to recede. The banks of coral are still increasing, and
coming nearer to the shore, so as to render the naviga¬
tion round Arabia every day more and more danger¬
ous. The sand accumulated by the billows gradual¬
ly fills up the intermediate space, and joins these beds
of coral to the continent. This recession of the sea,
however, or conquest over the watery element, has pro¬
duced little advantage to man. The Tehama is every¬
where a frightful desert of sand, diversified only by na¬
ked rocks, with nothing to soften the force of the sun’s
rays, and in which all vegetation is burnt up. The
drought is so extreme in these flat plains, that whole
years pass without rain ; and the torrents which de¬
scend from the hills, which occupy the interior of the
country, are lost among the sands long before they can
reach the sea.
In the interior country, the soil and climate are very
different. The great ranges of lofty mountains attract
vapours, which, descending in abundant rains, cool the
air, and quicken vegetation. The cold occasioned by
the height of the country produces falls of snow, but
this never lies long upon the ground. While the in¬
habitants of the plains suffer by heat, those of the hills
are obliged to wrap themselves in polices 5 but as the
hills or mountains are by no means of the primary or¬
der in point of elevation, ice and steady frost seem to
be unknown. The soil, however, is as much diversi¬
fied as in other countries \ but the figure of the hills is
unfavourable to their fertility. They are in general
4 Y 2 so
A S 1 [ 7
Asia. so craggy and precipitous as to afford little space or
soil for vegetable productions, the best part of the soil
being continually washed away by the waters. Hence
the culture of the land is difficult and expensive. Ter¬
races must be formed, and the soil carefully preserved
and accumulated upon them; so that, upon the whole,
no part of Arabia can with any propriety be denomi¬
nated rich or fertile. In the southern division of it,
called by the ancients, by way of eminence, t/ie Hap¬
py, or Arabia Felix, the inhabitants are at once indu¬
strious and poor. The desert 'between Syria and the
Euphrates, or that part of Arabia which extends to the
northward of the peninsula, is altogether incapable of
improvement by culture. A wide level of. sand is on¬
ly intersected by sharp mountains destitute of verdure,
which render more powerful by reflection the intense
rays of an almost tropical sun. The rare and hardy
plants, the tamarind, or the acacia, that strike their
roots into the clefts of the rocks, are nourished by the
dews of night. A grove of date trees, or a gi'een pa¬
sture, attracts a small colony of Arabs ; and a well of
water is a place of importance and of resort.
Aet this desert is not destitute of a tolerable number
of inhabitants. They rear the camel, a strong and
patient beast of burden, which subsists on the most
stunted and withered roots, or upon herbs of the gourd
species, which abound in the driest countries. Nei¬
ther are they destitute of horned cattle, and goats and
sheep $ and naturalists consider this as the native coun¬
try of the horse, which is the peculiar favourite of the
^ Arabians,
Two class- Properly speaking, there are two kinds or classes of
c» of Arabs. Arabs j the one sedentary, that is, living in cities, or
attached to husbandry, and the other, wandering in the
pastoral state, called Bedouins. The Arabs settled in
cities, and especially in sea-port towns, of which there
are several on the coasts of the peninsula, have lost
somewhat of their distinctive national manners by their
intercourse with strangers 5 but the Bedouins, who live
in tents, and are divided into tribes or clans, retain the
customs and manners of their earliest ancestors. They
are the genuine Arabs, and possess in the aggregate all
those characteristics of which the other branches of
tne nation exhibit different shades and degrees. It is
the difference in their ways of living that constitutes
the great distinction between the different tribes. The
genuine and nobler Arabs disdain husbandry, as an em¬
ployment by which they would be degraded. They
maintain no domestic animals but sheep, camels, and
horses. Hence it is known, that Mahomet, the found¬
er of their religion, belonged to a noble tribe or race,
because he was a dealer in camels. Some tribes are
even mentioned contemptuously bv their countrymen,
because they keep cows or dromedaries; and the pea¬
sants who cultivate the soil are accounted the lowest
class. Even among the tribes which apply to agricul¬
ture, the chiefs live always in tents, and leave the cul¬
ture of their grounds to their subjects, whose dwellings
are miserable huts.
In the interior of Arabia, towards the Indian ocean,
which is chiefly the quarter capable of being cultiva¬
ted, some governments exist of a considerable extent •,
such as Yemen and Hadrarpant, apd Oman. In these
the people are of a mild and civilized character. A
stranger travels unprotected and alone with as much
2
24 ] A S I
safety as in any country in Europe. The only danger
of imposition or of ill usage occurs in the sea-port
towns, from the officers of government. Here also the
religion of Mahomet exhibits a less intolerant aspect
than in Turkey, Africa, or almost any other country.
Indeed it is not a little singular, that while this reli¬
gion extended itself to the pillars of Hercules, to the
mouths of the Ganges, and to the extreme regions of
Tartary, several tribes of native Arabs, secure in the
fastnesses of their rugged mountains, regarded it with
indifference or contempt. Some tribes in the interior
could never be subdued by the power of the caliphs,
and retain the worship of the heavenly bodies, as in
the times of their ancestors. Even a tribe of Jews has
existed for ages amidst these inaccessible mountains,
though the most odious of mankind in the eyes of the
surrounding Mahometans.
The Bedouins, or wandering Arabs, wdio constitute
the body of the nation, are divided into an endless va¬
riety of tribes. Their chiefs, whether high or low,
are denominated schiecks. These schiecks or nobles
are very numerous, and the plebeians are invariably
actuated and guided by them : They are both shep¬
herds and soldiers. The dignity of schieck is heredi-
tary, but is not confined to the order of primogeniture.
The petty schiecks, who form the hereditary nobility,
chpose the grand schieck of any district out of the
reigning family, without regarding the degree of his
propinquity to his last predecessor. They pay him lit¬
tle or no revenue, and the other schiecks are rather
his equals than his subjects. If dissatisfied with his
government, they depose him, or go away with their
cattle, and join another tribe. These emigrations,
which happen not unfrequently, produce great revolu¬
tions among the tribes. Even the peasants possess a
similar privilege. Though understood to be slaves,
they may quit the service of a master with whom they
are dissatisfied, and choose another. It was remarked,
in the time of the Romans, that the Arabs were at
once addicted to robbery and to commerce 5 a fact
which holds true to this day. They become the faith¬
ful servants of the merchant, who hires them to con¬
duct him through the desert; while at the same time
they are extremely apt to consider the property of un¬
protected travellers as an object which they may law¬
fully seize. But it may also be remarked, that we
are sometimes apt to consider as robbery what the
Arabs view in another light. Every grand schieck, or
schieck of schiecks, as he is called, considers himself as
the absolute lord of his whole territory, and exacts du¬
ties upon all goods carried through his dominions.
The Europeans are wrong when they suppose the sums
paid by travellers to the grand schiecks to be a ransom
to redeem them from pillage. On the contrary, it is
regarded by the Arab nobles in no other light than as
the duties levied in other countries by princes for the
support of the government. The southern part of
Arabia, called by the ancients Arabia Felix, has at
times been subdued by strangers j but the Bedouins,
who live in tents in the desert, do not appear to have
ever been effectually conquered. In a contest with
them, much is hazarded, and little can be won. Their
horses and camels, which in eight or ten days can per¬
form a march of 400 or 500 miles, disappear before a
victorious army. The secret waters of the desert elude
the
Asia.
24
How far
connected
with fo¬
reign
states.
AST [ 725 ]
the search of the invader, and his troops are consumed countries,
by hunger, thirst, and fatigue, in the pursuit of an in¬
visible foe, who mocks his efforts, and at all times finds
safety in the midst of a burning solitude.
Notwithstanding the memory of their ancient inde¬
pendence, even the wandering Arabs are frequently
tempted to settle near towns, or in fertile provinces $
which has in different ages brought them into subjec¬
tion to the sovereigns of these provinces. Their neigh¬
bours, also, such as the Persians, the princes of the
Gi’eek empire, and the modern Turks, have contrived
to acquire an influence over some of the tribes, by sow¬
ing dissensions among the great families, and espousing
the cause of pretenders to the dignity of grand schieck.
Accordingly the Turks allege that they ai’e the sove¬
reigns of Arabia j but this is no more than a vain-glo¬
rious assertion, which is so far from being true, that
they find it necessary to pay the usual ti-ibute to the
schiecks when their caravans pass through the desert to
Mecca. The tribes who live near the road keep the
wells open, permit the passage of merchandise, and
escort the caravans. Quarrels, indeed, often occur, in
which the rapacity of the Bedouins is seldom more re¬
markable than the insolence of the Turks, who regard
all the Arabs as rebels. The famous Ali Bey, when
he conducted the Egyptian caravan, would not pay all
the duties on his way to Mecca, but promised to pay
the rest on his return, but forgot his promise. On the
year following the Arabs assembled in greater numbers,
and obliged the captain of the caravan to pay both
for himself and Ali Bey. The Turks exclaimed
against this as an act of robbery ; yet the Arabs bad
only done themselves justice. The conduct of Abdal-
la, pacha of Damascus, who commanded the Syrian
caravan in 17565 was still more odious. When the
schiecks of the tribe of Harb came to meet him to re¬
ceive the stipulated toll, he gave them a friendly invi¬
tation to visit him ; but instead of paying the toll, he
cut off their heads, and sent them to Constantinople, as
a proof of his victory over the rebel Arabs. The
stroke which they had thus suffered, by the death of
their chiefs, hindered them from attempting any thing
ih revenge, on either that or the following year : The
caravans travelled in triumph to Mecca, and the Turks
boasted of the valour and prudence of Abdallah Pacha.
Butin the third year the Arabs avenged the slaughter¬
ed schiecks, and, with an army of 80,000 men, raised
out of all the tribes, routed the Turks, and pillaged the
caravan.—Thus the Arabs, notwithstanding their in¬
ternal divisions, consider themselves on extraordinary
occasions as one nation. A certain subordination even
subsists among the tribes : The petty tribes being un¬
able to defend themselves, place themselves under the
protection of the greater, and are governed by their
laws ; and thus are powerful tribes formed by the union
of several small tribes.
The climate and barren soil of their country has a
aadfood rofconsi(!erable influence on the general character of the
the people. Arabians. They are an extremely sober and frugal
nation, which produces in them an appearance of lean¬
ness and stinted growth. I he usual articles upon
which the better sort subsist are, rice, pulse, milk, and
butter : mutton is their most common species of but¬
cher’s meat, but they seldom eat ot it, as all kinds of
animal food are accounted unwholesome in these hot.
Asia.-
2S
A S I
The common people have little other food
than a kind of bread made of durra, a sort of coarser '
millet, by kneading it with camels milk, oil, butter, or
grease : They also use barley bread. Like the other
natives of the warm regions of Asia, they have less rest¬
lessness or natural desire for exercise than the natives
of the colder countries of Europe ; and this inacti¬
vity is, no doubt, increased by their general habits of
abstinence and extreme frugality with regard to food.
They are astonished when they observe the quantity of
all kinds of meat that Europeans devour at a meal,
and account them guilty of the most odious gluttony j
for they themselves, at least the wandering Arabs, are
not only taught from their youth to live upon little,,
but even to accommodate themselves to any kind of
food. Hence locusts are in common use among them,
and have a considerable influence upon their condition.
Immense clouds of these animals sometimes descend,
upon a district, and produce the greatest mischief, by
destroying the whole verdure. They darken the air,,
and appear at a distance like clouds of smoke. The
noise of their flight is stunning, like that of a water¬
fall. Everything that is green is wasted by them},
but corn, either ripe or nearly so, is too hard for their
use. The Arabs of the desert convert this scourge to
their advantage. They roast the locusts alive, and de¬
vour them eagerly} or they kill and dry them, and
store them up for use : This food is said to be by no
means unwholesome. The Jews of Arabia assert, that
the fowls, of which the Israelites ate so largely in the
wilderness or desert, were only clouds of locusts 5 and
they ridicule our translators, for supposing that they
found quails where quails never were.
In Arabia polygamy was always tolerated, and is Their con-
permitted by the law of Mahomet j hut the Arabians ^uct to*
are, in.general, too poor to avail themselves of the pri-wart1s v'l>
vilege of possessing a plurality of wives. The law, how¬
ever, has this effect, that it often induces the rich to
give their daughters to poor men in preference to
those who are wealthy. The marriage articles are
made out before the cadi or judge. The wife’s pro¬
perty is secured to her even during the marriage, so
that she becomes absolute mistress of her husband’s
house ; and he, having no separate property, can have
no means of bringing another wife into the family.
All women, however, in Arabia, live in a most retired
manner. They receive no visits from strangers of the.
other sex. In the houses of the rich the front apart¬
ments belong to the men, and those behind to the wo¬
men. In the houses of persons of inferior rank, desti¬
tute of a variety of apartments, when the husband car¬
ries a stranger to his house, he enters before him, and
calls aloud, tarik, retire } upon which the women in¬
stantly disappear , and even his most intimate friends
never see one of them. Their notions of the delicacy,
necessary to be observed, with regard to -women, is ex¬
treme. It is accounted impolite to salute a woman,
or even to look her steadfastly in the face. In the 27
neighbourhood of the city of Barra, an adventure oc-'rci‘'lomT*
curred which displays in strong colours the jealousy
of the Arabians in whatever concerns the other sex.
A man of eminence, belonging to the tribe of Monte-
sidsi, had given his daughter in marriage to an Arab
of the tribe of Korne. Shortly after the marriage a
scbieck of aq inferior tribe asked him in a coffeehouse,
whether-
2d
A S I [ 726 ] A S I
Asia. whether he was father of the handsome young wife of
^such a one, whom he named ? The father supposing
his daughter’s honour ruined, immediately left the
company to stab her. At his return from the execu¬
tion of this inhuman deed, he who had so indiscreetly
put the question, was gone. Breathing nothing now
but vengeance, he sought him everywhere } and not
finding him, killed in the mean time several of his re¬
lations, without sparing even his cattle or servants.
The offender offered the governor of Korne a great
sum, if he would rid him of so furious an adversary.
The governor sent for him who had been offended, and
endeavoured by threats and a show of the apparatus of
punishment to force him to a reconciliation $ but the
vengeful Arab would rather meet death than forego
his revenge. Then the governor, to preserve a man
of such high honour, soothed him to an agreement, by
which the first aggressor gave his daughter, with a hand¬
some portion, in marriage to him whom he had offend¬
ed. But the father-in-law durst never after appear be¬
fore his son-in-law.
Their via- Revenge is indeed among the Arabs a most ungo-
dictive vernable sentiment. In some of the states of the south-
*pirit. ern part of the peninsula the government is strong
enough to restrain private revenge, and to assume to
itself the punishment of crimes, as in other civilized
countries ; but over a great part of Arabia, the rela¬
tions of a person slain are allowed to accept a compo¬
sition in money, to require the murderer to surrender
himself to justice, or to avenge themselves on him or his
family. Tiie passion of avarice is often found to afford,
among barbarians, the best means of subduing animo¬
sity ; but in many places among the Arabians it is ac¬
counted disgraceful to take money for the shedding of
blood, which, by their laws of honour, can be expiated
only by blood. Their refined malice even refuses to
be satisfied by the destruction of the assassin either by
their own hands or by the hand of public justice $ for
this would be to deliver from an unworthy member a
family which deserves no such favour from them : hence
they revenge themselves, as custom allows, by substi¬
tuting an innocent to the guilty person, and seek an
opportunity of slaying the chief or the most consider¬
able person of the race of him by whom they have been
injured. When a murder has been committed, there¬
fore, the two families are in continual fears till some one
or other of the murderer’s family be slain. Till this
occur no reconciliation can take place, and the quarrel
is occasionally renewed. If in the contest a man of
the murdered person’s family happen to fall, there can
be no peace till two others of the murderer’s have been
slain, and there are instances of such family feuds last¬
ing forty years.
Nor is the point of honour confined to such cases as
those we have now mentioned. The noble Bedouins
carry their pride higher than even our barbarous an¬
cestors seem to have done. If one schieck says to an¬
other, with a serious air, “ thy bonnet is dirty,” or
“ the wrong side of thy turban is out,” nothing but
blood can wash away the reproach *, and not merely
the blood of the offenders, but that also of all the Arabs
of his family. An insult offered to the beard of an A-
rab is regarded with equal indignation, and produces
equal resentment.
When these capital points, however, are avoided,
the Arabs are understood to be by no means quarrel-
some. rhey take a pride in preserving their coolness 1 ' (
of temper against reproachful language. W hen a dis¬
pute happens suddenly to arise among them, they make
much noise, and are apt to forget themselves, and to
proceed to extremities 5 but should an indifl'erent per¬
son calmly say to them, “ think of God and his pro¬
phet,” they instantly make an effort to resume their
tranquillity, and a reconciliation is effected. If this
contest cannot be settled at once, they choose arbitra¬
tors, to whose decision they submit.
The manners of the Arabs are grave and serious. Manners.
As soon as boys attain to five or six years of age, they
pass whole days together in their father’s company,
and are indeed allowed to be as seldom out of it as pos¬
sible. Being thus always under the eyes of persons
advanced in life, they acquire a pensiveness and gravi¬
ty of manners, and an air of recollection, at a very early
age. 1 heir imaginations being accustomed to barren
deserts and bare rocks, are apt to acquire a gloomy
cast; but 'in Yemen or Arabia Felix, where the soil
is more fertile and the population more considerable,
they posses sufficient vivacity of character, and are ex¬
tremely fond of society. In the towns of Syria in
which they settle, they are far more cheerful and fond
of amusement than the Turks. Both there and in
Arabia Felix they are fond of frequenting coffee-houses
and public markets.
In the earliest ages the Arabians were always ac-Literature,
counted admirers of poetry, and were accustomed to
celebrate in verse the military exploits of their chiefs.
The genius and merit of a rising poet was rewarded
by the applause of his own and of the kindred tribes j
and they x-egarded him as a herald risen up to immor¬
talize their renown. Before the days of Mahomet
there existed an institution which the fanaticism of his
first followers abolished. An annual fair was held,
to which the most distant or hostile tribes resorted, and
which lasted thirty days. For some time before and
after this fair, amounting in all to two, or as some say,
to four months, a general truce took place $ during
which every public and private quarrel was suspended
throughout the rvhole extent of Arabia. This truce
was sanctioned by the laws of honour 5 and, as a breach
of it was attended with perpetual infamy, every sword
was religiously sheathed while it lasted. At this great
market not only corn and wine, but also eloquence
and poetry were exchanged. The prize was disputed
by the emulation of the bards, and the victorious per¬
formance was deposited in the archives of the prince $
and, on some extraordinary occasions, inscribed in let¬
ters of gold, and suspended in the temple of Mecca,
which even in these early times vras a place of nation¬
al pilgrimage. Generosity and valour formed the fa¬
vourite theme of the songs of the Arabian poets j and
their keenest satire or bitterest reproach against a des¬
picable race, consisted of the affirmation, that the men
knew not how to give, nor the women to deny. Such
a festival, resembling, in some measure, the Olympic
games of the Greeks, must have possessed considerable
influence in humanizing the manners of the people.
As the northern part of Arabia was situated in the
very centre of the most civilized nations of antiquity,
whose caravans must have been continually passing
through it 5 its inhabitants, therefore, could not fail
at
ASI [?27] AS I
Asja< at a very early period, to acquire some portion of that
u—v-w information which an acquaintance with intelligent
strangers brings along with it. As a commerce with
India appears at a very early period to have been car¬
ried on by sea from the southern parts of the penin¬
sula, it is probable that such a portion of literature
as might be requisite for conducting its transactions
would be cultivated by the Arabians in a very distant
antiquity. Literature however was never diffused to
any great extent in this peninsula. In the northern
parts, indeed, or in the Syrian desert, where the Ro¬
man and Persian empires flourished on each side, the
Arabian city of Palmyra appears to have received and
cultivated the learning and the arts of Greece j and at
a future period, when the successors of Mahomet car¬
ried their- dominion into other countries, in which they
settled and pursued the arts of peace, the Arabian con¬
querors cultivated various branches of literature. At
all times, however, the desert itself, or the native coun¬
try of the Arabians, has exhibited an illiterate race of
men. At present their youth are not indeed entire¬
ly neglected. The chiefs of the desert can frequently
read and write, and in the cities many of the lowest
of the people possess these qualifications. They have
schools in their mosques for the education of the poor j
and in great towns there are schools to which persons
in better circumstances send their sons j but no girls
attend the public schools, being privately taught at
home by women. The Arabians can scarcely be said
to possess any science. Astronomy is somewhat valued
by them, but only in subserviency to astrology, a sci¬
ence highly esteemed and very lucrative in the East,
though prohibited by the Mahometan law. From
their ignorance they are indeed extremely fond of
what are called the occult sciences, which are supposed
to enable their possessors to become familiar with genii,
and to oblige them to obey their pleasure, to teach
how to command the winds and seasons, to cure the
bites of serpents and many diseases or infirmities. A
great part, however, of these occult sciences have ap¬
peared to strangers to be nothing more than tricks,
which the credulity of the people induces individuals
to practise upon them. The Arabians are also extreme-
Supersti- ly superstitious. it frequently happens that a town
tious. has been reared on the spot which it occupies, merely
in consequence of its having been the dwelling place
of some Mahometan hermit or saint. In this way the
city of Loheia was founded. Its founder and patron
was a saint called Schieck Scelei, who spent his days in
a hut on the shore of the Red sea. A house of prayer
was afterwards raised over his tomb, and some devout
persons imagining it would be a great happiness to live
near the remains of so holy a person, built huts around
it. Nearly at the same time the sea having retreated
from a neighbouring harbour, an accident which is
always happening on the Arabian coast, the inhabi¬
tants deserted it, and settled at Loheia, which is now
a well-frequented port. In the same way the city ol
Beit el Fakeh originated around the tomb of a saint
called Achmed ibn Musa. Some devout persons built
themselves cottages round his tomb, and the harbour
of Galeska being about the same time choaked up, the
inhabitants of that city removed thither. I his saint
was a great worker ot miracles. A Turkish pacha,
who had been for 20 yea;s a captive in Spain, where
he was bound with ponderous chains to two large A*m.
stones, long and vainly invoked the aid of diflerent' v——'
saints. Last of all he bethought himself of the great
Achmed, and invoked him also in his turn. The saint
stretched out his hand from his tomb-, and at that very
instant, in the presence of many witnesses, the pacha
arrived from Spain, bearing with him his chains and
the stones to which they were fixed. This miracle
took place not many years ago, on the eve of the festi¬
val oi the saint 5 and the Arabs regard it as authenti¬
cated by unexceptionable evidence, notwithstanding
all prayers or invocations to saints are strictly pro¬
hibited by the Koran. Another miracle performed
by Ismael Mulk, the patron saint of the city of Taoes,
is easily accounted for. Two beggars bad asked cha¬
rity from the dola or governor of Taces, but only one
of them had tasted of his bounty. The other wrent
upon this to the tomb of Ismael Mulk to implore bis
aid. Ismael, who, when alive, had been very chari¬
table, stretched his hand out of the tomb, and gave
the beggar a letter containing an order on the dola to
pay the beggar an hundred crowns. Upon examin¬
ing this order with the greatest care, it was found that
Ismael Mulk had written it with his own hand, and
sealed it with his seal. The governor could not re¬
fuse payment, but to avoid all subsequent trouble from
such bills of exchange, he had a wall built inclosing the
tomb.
In the southern parts of Arabia the posterity of the
saints are treated with as much respect as is shewn to
the descendants of Mahomet at Mecca, which is very
great. .Every person who can number a reputed
saint among his ancestors, is dignified with the title of
Schieck, and accounted an ecclesiastic by birth. Fa¬
milies thus find it their interest to establish, by every
possible means, the sanctity of the person from whom
they are descended, and to maintain the authenticity
of the miracles ascribed to him. In this manner, in
spite of the Koran, which is strictly Unitarian, the
superstitious worship of saints is daily extending its
influence among the Arabs, and feigned miracles are
consequently multiplying, so that they may be said in
some measure to be relapsing into the polytheism of
their ancestors. At the same time it is to be observed,
that within these forty years a sort of reformation of re¬
ligion has been attempted, and even accomplished, in a
part of the central or mountainous country of Arabia,
by one Abdul Wahheb, in whose family a sovereignty
of considerable extent has been established. He taught
that God, as the creator and governor of the world, is
the only proper object of worship. He forbade the in¬
vocation of saints, and the very mention of the name
of Mahomet, or of any other prophet, in prayer, as
practices savouring of idolatry. He forbade the ma¬
king of vows to obtain deliverance from danger, as a
crime against providence. He represented Moses, Ma¬
homet, Jesus Christ, who were respected by his country¬
men as prophets, as merely great men, whose history
might he read with improvement; denying that any
book was ever written by divine inspiration, or brought
down from heaven by the angel Gabriel. 32
In thinly peopled countries men can afford to be ilospitality
hospitable to strangers, because they see them seldom. am1
In Arabia, however, this virtue is still more valued
than elsewhere. Poverty is a misfortune very general
among
A 5 I ^ t 7
Asia. among the people of this country } and when travelling
V””“W "1 through their deserts they are apt to suft’er great hard*
ships both from hunger and thirst. Hence among
them kindness to strangers, and charity to the poor, are
the most popular of all virtues, and a breach of the sa¬
cred laws of hospitality is productive of the most inde¬
lible dishonour. The rapacity of even an Arabian
robber is checked by the influence of this law, and an
enemy is safe with those who have consented to taste
along with him a morsel of bread. On the whole it
appears that the inhabitants of this great territory,
though in general barbarians, are yet of a mixed cha¬
racter. A part of them have in every age participa¬
ted the civilization of the countries in their neighbour¬
hood ; and though the tribes of the desert have been
always in some measure independent, and governed
only by their own fancy or prejudices, yet they have
always acknowledged a connexion with the rest of the
nation that reside in towns, or that cultivate the soil.
Though labouring under a degree of that tendency to
indolence which is common to rude nations, yet their
poverty and the hardships to which they are inured,
prepare them for the toils of war, and render them ca-
^ pable of enterprise.
Persia. Of the present Persian empire, in a general view of
Asia, it is unnecessary to take much notice. Both
sides of the Persian gulf are to some distance possessed
by the Arabs, and the interior provinces have sunk into
decay under a long succession of military usurpations.
Cultivation is in a great measure confined to the near
neighbourhood of a few towns ; and a considerable part
of the open country is used for the pasturage of the cat¬
tle of wandering hordes of barbarians that have descend¬
ed from Tartary, and that now occupy these seats of an¬
cient civilization and riches.
We have already remarked, that between the Per¬
sian gulf on the south, and the Caspian sea on the north,
hut nearest to the Caspian, a chain of mountains, the
celebrated iaurus of the ancients, proceeds from the
straits of the Dardanelles eastward to the front of the
high central region of Asia called Imam. After pas¬
sing the Caspian sea and the Persian gulf, these moun¬
tains widen to a great extent, and the middle ridge, as
it reaches Imaus, becomes very elevated. This middle
ridge appears to be crossed by no rivers, and according¬
ly the streams which descend from itself, or from Imaus
on the northern side of it, proceed in a north-westerly
direction to the Caspian or the lake Aral. These are
chiefly the Oxus and the Jaxartes. To the south of
the middle ridge of Taurus, the rivers descend south¬
ward to the Arabian sea or Indian ocean. The prin¬
cipal river that descends southward from the western or
River Sind south-western front of Imaus is the river Sind or Indus,
or Indus. upper branches of which approach very near to
those of the Oxus j and it may be proper here to re¬
mark that the present commerce between the Russian
empire and India proceeds in this channel. The mer¬
chants, after leaving the Caspian sea, travel in caravans
or bodies up the river Oxus and down the river Indus.
In the mountainous country near the western and
south*western fiont of Imaus, are several beautiful
valleys, which in all ages have been the admiration of
travellers. Among these we may mention between Imaus
and the Caspian, the valley or country of Sogdia with
its capital Samarcand. This country was in ancient
28 ] A S I
times accounted by the orientals a terrestrial paradise, Asia
possessing all the fertility of a torrid climate with the —A—.
salubrity of the coldest regions. Not less remarkable,
upon the south-western front of Imaus, on one of the
heads of the river Indus, is the valley of Cashmere, 35
which in every age has been the happy valley of tjie Caslimcre*
Indian poets, or the paradise of Hindoostan. It is of
an oval form, about 80 miles in length and 40 in
breadth, and is supposed to have been "once filled with
water, which having burst its mound, left this valley
fertilized to the most distant ages by the mud which
had been deposited in it. The emperors of Hindoo¬
stan frequently visited it to forget the cares of govern¬
ment, and to collect new health and vigour from the
salubrity of the air and the beauties of the place. In
1664 Aurengzebe went thither for this purpose from
Agra Ins Indian capital. jVI. Bernier attended in qua¬
lity of physician to one of his omrahs. The train of the
emperor was extremely splendid. The heats on the
march were dreadful, as the lofty mountains that skirt
the front of the high region of Tartary prevent the
cool air of the north from descending to refresh the
parched plains of India. A vast mountain called
Bember divides Cashmere from India. The southern
side of this mountain is steep and arid. The proces¬
sion encamped in the channel of a large torrent dried
up, full of sand and stones, which were burning hot.
“ After passing the Bember (says M. Bernier) we pass
from a torrid to a temperate zone: for we had no
sooner mounted this dreadful wall of the world, I mean
this high, steep, black, and bald mountain of Bember,
than in descending on the other side, we found an air
that was pretty tolerable, fresh, gentle and temperate.
But that which surprised me more in these mountains
was to find myself in a trice transported out of the In¬
dies into Europe. For seeing the earth covered with
all our plants and shrubs, except hyssop, thyme, mar¬
joram, and rosemary, I imagined I was in some of our
mountains of Auvergne in the midst of a forest of all
kinds of trees, pines, oaks, elms, plane-trees. And I
was the more astonished, because in all those burning
fields of Indostan, whence I came, I had seen almost
nothing of all that.
“ Among other things relating to plants this sur¬
prised me, that one and a half days journey from Bem¬
ber I found a mountain that was covered with them
on both sides, but with this difierence, that on the side
of the mountain that was southerly towards the Indies
there was a mixture of Indian and European plants,
and on that which was exposed to the north I observed
none hut European ones, as if the former had partici¬
pated of the air and temper of Europe and the Indies,
and the other had been merely European.” The same
traveller proceeds in this description of this valley or
kingdom of Cashmere. “ Thousands of cascades de¬
scend from the surrounding mountains of this en¬
chanting plain, and forming rivulets meandring through
all parts, render it so fair and fruitful, that one would
take this whole kingdom for some great evergreen
garden, intermixed with villages and boroughs dis¬
covering themselves between trees, and diversified by
meadows, fields of rice, corn, and divers other le¬
gumes, of hemp and saffron, all interlaced with ditches
full of water, with channels, with small lakes and rivu¬
lets here and there. Up and down everywhere are
also
A S I
also seen some of our European plants, flowers, and all
sorts of our trees, as apples, pears, prunes, apricots,
cherries, nuts, vines. Ihe particular gardens are full
of melons, skirrets, beets, radishes, all sorts of our pot¬
herbs, and of some we have not.”
J his delightful spot is surrounded by the mountains
adjoining to Imaus, which are of vast height and rude
aspect, perpetually covered with snow. At the foot of
the exterior chain of mountains is an inner circle of
hills, which abound in trees, grass, and various sorts of
vegetation, and which are full of all kinds of cattle, as
cows, sheep, goats, gazelles, and musks. The exterior
mountains are so lofty and cold, that the pioneers of
Aurengzebe were obliged to cut through a glaciere,
or a great mass, as Bernier calls it, of icy snow. The
capital is sometimes called Cashmvre, sometimes Sirina-
gur, and sometimes Nagas. It is in N. Lat. 34. 12. on
the banks of a celebrated river, the fabitlosus Hyduspcs
of the ancients. Its current is smooth, and it is navi¬
gable in Cashmere by small boats. The town was in
Bernier’s time three quarters of a French league long
on both sides of the river, and extending from it along
a navigable canal to a small but beautiful lake. The
houses are built of wood, four stories or more in height.
The lower story is for the cattle, the next for the fa¬
mily, and the third and fourth serve as warehouses.
The roofs are planted with tulips, which have a most
beautiful effect in the spring. Every part of the coun¬
try exhibits the remains of palaces, pavilions, and gar¬
dens, formed there by the emperors of Hindoostan.
The periodical rains which almost deluge the rest of
India, are excluded from Cashmere by the height of
the mountains ; and it experiences only light showers,
which, however, are sufficient to feed the thousands of
cascades which descend into the valley from every part
of the stupendous and romantic bulwark of mountains
by which it is encircled. The horses of this country
are small, hardy, and sure-footed. The cows are black
and ugly, hut yield abundance of milk and excellent
butter. ri hey have also a kind of sheep which is used
to carry burdens. The elk is mentioned as one of the
wild animals that inhabit the woods at the base of the
snowy mountains in the neighbourhood.
Cashmere is famous for its manufacture of shawls
made of the wool of the broad-tailed sheep of Thibet,
whose fleeces, in fineness, beauty, and length, are said
to exceed all others in the world. The Cashmerians en¬
gross this article, and have factors in all parts of Thi¬
bet for buying up the wool, which is sent into Cashmere
and w'orkcd into shawls of the highest value. The In¬
dian emperor Akbar, who conquered this country in
1585, greatly encouraged this manufacture, and intro¬
duce it into Lahore. The natural colour of the wool
is said to he gray tinged with red, but sometimes it is
quite white.
The Cashmerians are accounted an ingenious people,
fond of poetry, and having a language of their own.
They are industrious mechanics, and the various ar¬
ticles of their workmanship are sent to all parts of
India. They are celebrated for the fineness of their
features and their admirable complexions. They look
like Europeans, and neither resemble their neighbours
of Tartary nor of India, having nothing of the flat
noses and small eyes of the Tartars, nor of the black
colour of the Indians. In the time of Bernier the In-
Vol. II. Part II. f
[ 729 ]
A S I
Asia
dian courtiers were extremely solicitous to obtain
Cashmerian women, to have children by them whiter '
than the natives of Hindoostan, that they might pass
for the true Mogul breed of the same race with their
monarch.
As already mentioned, India consists of two penin¬
sulas, one to the westward and the other to the east¬
ward of the Ganges. The western peninsula is over¬
looked from the north, by that part of the chain of
Imaus or Emodus which constitutes the southern front
of the region of Tartary. In the south-western side of ®ou,'cc*
this high region the rivers Ganges and Indus havethe Ga,l»e*
their source. After advancing westward to no greatand
distance from the Indus, the river Ganges turns to¬
wards the south, and afterwards traverses almost the
whole breadth of the peninsula in an easterly direction,
till at last it proceeds south into the bay" or gulf of
Bengal. Ihe Indus, rising in the south-western part
of Tartary, called Ca&hgar, descends in a south but
somewhat westerly course, till it enters the Arabian
sea by various channels to the northward of the bay of
Cutch. At its mouth it has a broad delta or tract of
fertile land, like the Nile in Egypt, formed by its own
alluvions, or the deposition of mud brought down from
the high country by the periodical floods to which it is
subject. To a great distance from the sea it flows, like
the Nile, along a fertile valley enriched by its inunda¬
tions. Parallel to the channel of the river, after it has
received all its tributary streams, run two chains of
mountains, by which its course is directed, and its val¬
ley is separated from other countries. Beyond the
mountains, on the east, extends a sandy desert of 200
miles in breadth, by which the valley of the Indus is
shut out from the rest of India. The whole course of
this river amounts to nearly 1000 miles. It has an un¬
interrupted navigation from the sea, for flat-bottomed
vessels of nearly 200 tons, as high as the city of La¬
hore, at the distance of about 650 miles. The current
of the Indus must be rapid, as vessels frequently fall
down the river from Lahore in 1 2 days ; but the ascend¬
ing passage requires six or seven weeks.
As the Indus and the Ganges nearly peninsulate or Indus dc-
enclose western India on the north, in a manner similarscritwd.
to that in which it is enclosed by the ocean on the
south, we shall take some farther notice of the course
of the Indus. This river is the most westerly of In¬
dia. Before it enters the narrow tract already men¬
tioned between the mountains, which run parallel to
its course, it is formed by the contribution of a variety of
streams, which have their sources in the rugged country
adjacent to high Tartary. These rivers, whose union
forms the Indus, water a large and fertile territory, a
part of which appears to have belonged to the ancient
Persian empire , of Darius Hystaspes. Various great
and populous cities have in difl’erent ages stood upon
these streams, in what is called the Panjab, or country
of the five rivers, which consists of spacious and fertile
plains. Alexander the Great reached these plains,
and they formed the scene of his exploits against Po-
rus and other Indian kings. Here also ended the pro¬
gress of the Macedonian conqueror. He built a fleet
of vessels, and descended the river with his army ; an
attempt which he is said to have been induced to make,
from a notion that he had found out the head of the
Nile. As in his time it was not known to the Greeks
4 L that
A S I [ 730 ] AST
Asia. that any other river in the world, excepting that of
Egypt, contained crocodiles, the discovery of crocodiles
in the river Indus, suggested the notion in these times,
when geography was so little understood, that there
might be some communication between this river and
the great river of Africa. Arrian says, that Alexander
had even written to his mother an account of his disco-
^ very of the head of the Nile. But the voyage down the
river pointed out the mistake, as it brought him to the
.38 ocean.
thc ludr- r^ie ^ovver P*1’*18 ^ie Indus, or the fertile but
swampy land near its mouth, was in the time of the
ancients unhealthy and hot in the extreme. This rich
delta or triangle of land is of great extent, each side
of the triangle being 1x 5 miles in length. The mouth
of the river was well known at a very early period.
Not only did Nearchus, the admiral of Alexander the
G reat,'sail from it to the Persian gulf; but at a much
earlier period, Darius Hystaspes, from curiosity to as¬
certain the place at which the Indus met the ocean,
built, according to Herodotus, a fleet on the box’ders of
Scythia, that is, of Tartary, high up the river, and gave
the command of it to Scylax, a Grecian of Caryandra,
an able sailor. He was directed to be attentive to dis¬
coveries on both sides; and when he reached the mouth,
to sail westward, and that way to return home. He
executed his commission; passed the straits of Babelman-
del; and in thiity months from the time he sailed from
Caspatyrus, landed safely in Egypt, at the place from
whence it is said, that Necho sent his Phoenicians to cir¬
cumnavigate Africa, by its now well-known promontory
the Cape of Good Hope. This expedition took place
in the 12th year of Darius, and in the year $09 before
the Christian era.
The delta or low country is still extremely un¬
healthy. The heats are so violent, in consequence of
the vicinity of the sandy deserts, that it is found ne¬
cessary to ventilate the houses occasionally, by means
of apertures in the tops like chimneys. When the
hottest winds prevail, the windows that are closely
shut exclude the warmer current of the air, while
the more elevated part of the atmosphere being cooler,
descends through the chimneys. The soil depends for
its fertility entirely upon the overflowings of the river;
and it sometimes happens that a single shower does not
fall during three years. There are no trees upon the
delta ; hut in the drier parts the soil is covered with
brushwood. The city of Tatt-a stands in the delta, up¬
on the western branch of the river, about 65 miles from
the sea, which is the distance to which the tide as¬
cends. The British had at one period a factory here,
for the purpose of transmitting the English broad cloths
to the high countries around the sources of the Indus.
Beyond Tatta, various towns are formed along the
fertile banks of this river, during its whole progress
between the parallel ranges of mountains, which are
distant from ihs banks from 30 to 40 miles. In lati-
tude 290 8', on the eastern side, the Indus is joined
ffiver Set- by the river Setlege or Hysudrus ; and it is to bt> re-
marked, that in consequence of the sandy deserts by
which the lower parts of the Indus are" surrounded,
this is the first river that falls into it, in a tract of 520
miles from the sea. The river Setlege is the south¬
ern boundary of the Panjab already mentioned, which
having from time immemorial been a most fertile and
3
populous region, and at the same time the frontier of Asia.
India towards the north-west, has been the scene in dif- '——v—-
ferent ages of the most dreadful massacres, by the ce¬
lebrated destroyers of mankind, Alexander the Great,
Timur or Tamerlane, and Kouli Khan. The river
Setlege rises at the foot of Mount Imaus, and is joined
by another stream, called the Beyah or Hyp/iasis. Both
of them pass through a fertile tract of country.
About 50 miles above the discharge of the Setlege, Chunaub.
another river, called the Chunaub or Acesines, falls into
the Indus. On the southern banks of the Chunaub,
in latitude 30° 34' stands the city of Moultan, the ca-Capital of
pital of a province, in a country very fertile in cotton, the Bani-
and also in sugar, opium, brimstone, galls, and abound-ans-
ing in camels, which animals also are reared in great
numbers on the lower parts of the Indus. This city
is remarkable for being the principal residence of the
Banians, an hereditary cast or tribe, who employ
themselves solely in commerce, and are the merchants
or brokers of India. Their chief resides here, but
they form settlements in every commercial town of In¬
dia ; and they send colonies to the trading towns of A-
rabia and Persia, and even as far as Astracan. As
these die away or incline to return home, a supply is
sent from India of unmarried young men. As no
females attend them, they live at Astracan and some
other places, with Tartarian women : but the contract
lasts only during their residence. They are highly
esteemed for the integrity of their dealings, and are
trusted to a great extent by Europeans and other stran¬
gers, as well as by the natives. They are the bankers
of India; and the confidence reposed in them is one
of the means by which the civilization of that country
has been preserved amidst its revolutions and the san¬
guinary wars of its princes. No prince has ever of¬
fered violence to the Banians, with the view of extort¬
ing from them, their treasures, without speedily finding
himself fmdone. His officers have instantly conspired
against him, because by robbing the Banians, or
bankers in whose hands their money was deposited, he
ultimately plundered the very persons who supported
his power, and had the readiest access to his pei’son.
About 160 miles above Moultan, is Lahore, the
capital of the Seiks, a set of religionists who venerate
the ox like the Hindoos, but who are pure Monotheists
and Predestinarians, worshipping God without the use
of images. They form a sort of aristocratical republic.
They can raise 100,000 cavalry, and they have of late
become very formidable. They are a kind of Indian
reformers, hostile both to the government and the reli¬
gion of the country. They admit of proselytes, and
have no casts or division into distinct hereditary profes¬
sions. In their territory a vast mountain of rock salt is
found, which is cut into dishes, plates, and stands for
lamps.
Between Lahore and Moultan, the Chunaub is join- 8,;],^.
ed by the Behut, or the fahulosus Ilydaspes, which
flows, as already mentioned, from the romantic Cash-
mere. A little above, the mouth of the Chunaub, the
Indus receives an obscure river, the Lucca, from the
territory on the north-west, called the kingdom of Can-
dahar. The city of Candahar, situated in N. Lat. 33.
E. Long. 67. x 5. was anciently a place of much im¬
portance, being the gate of India, with respect to Per¬
sia, and the great magazine of Indian and Persian
goods.
Asia.
41
Bay of
Cutcl).
44
Pagoda of
Sumnat
A S I [ 731 1
goods. Somewhat higher, that is, more northerly, Many
r two tributary streams enter the Indus, called the Cow
or Cophenes, and the Kameh or Gurdus. On the for¬
mer stands the city of Ghizni, and on the latter is Ca¬
bal. This last city is in N. Lat. 34. 36. and E. Long.
68. 58. near the foot of the Indian Caucasus, or I-
maus. It stands in so happy a climate, that it produ¬
ces the fruits both of the temperate and torrid zones,
though it is in the near neighbourhood of mountains,
whose summits are coveted with perpetual snow. The
Indian historians speak of it with raptures. Cabul is
the residence of the kings of Candahar. It has at all
times been of much importance, as the frontier of In¬
dia towards the river Oxus, which flows into the Cas¬
pian sea, and towards Tartary. In ancient times, it
always was a great commercial magazine, as well as
an important fortress. To this day, it is on the direct
road by which the commerce of the southern parts of
the Russian empire is carried on with India. It is at
present noted for its vast fairs of horses and cattle, the
first of which are brought hither by the Usbec Tar¬
tars ; and merchants resort to these markets from Per¬
sia, China, and Tartary. Near the mouth of the ri¬
ver Kameh, the city of Attock stands upon the Indus.
Attock signifies forbidden; this being the original
boundary of Hindoostan, towards the north-west, which
the Hindoos were prohibited to pass. Here the river
is three quarters of a mile broad, and the water is cold,
and the stream rapid and turbulent, having much black
sand suspended in it. To this place the Indus descends
from the lofty mountains of Imaus, and the high re¬
gion of Tartary. The remainder of its course, there¬
fore, lies through a country little known, and so rude
in its soil and climate, as scarcely to admit even of the
most slender population.
Returning to the ocean, it is to be observed, that
the most eastern of the branches into which the Indus
is divided towards its mouth, flows into the bay or
gulf of Cutch, which advances far into the country,
receiving the river Puddar. This river, and the bay
into which it flows, form one side of the fertile penin¬
sula of Guzerat, the other side of the'same peninsula
being contiguous to the gulf of Cambay. The west¬
ern parts of the peninsula of Guzerat are mountainous
and woody. The rest is extremely rich, and once famed
for a very considerable commerce of its productions.
Here stood in former times, on the promontory of Gu¬
zerat in the neighbourhood of Diu, one of the last re¬
maining possessions of the Portuguese in India, the
great temple or pagoda of Sumnat. It was destroyed
in the eleventh century by Mahmud, the greatest of
the princes of that race of Tartars called Turks. He
was the sovereign of Ghizni, which we have already
noticed as a town in the kingdom of Candahar, upon
one of the streams that fall into the Indus from the
north west. Being a most fanatical Mahometan, he
undertook 12 holy wars, as they were called, against
the unbelieving nations of India. Lahore, Moultan,
and Delhi, were compelled to open their gates to him,
and he at last reached and conquered the rich penin¬
sula or kingdom of Guzerat. On the payment of a
tribute, tbe rajahs preserved their dominions, and the
people their lives and fortunes 5 but to the religion of
the country Mahmud was inexorable. Many hundred
temples or pagodas rvere levelled with the ground.
A S T
thousand idols were demolished ; and the ser- Asia,
vants of the Arabian prophet were stimulated, and re-y-—^
warded, by the precious materials of which they were
composed. The pagoda of Sumnat was at this time
conspicuous beyond all the retreats of Indian supersti¬
tion. Its magnificence and its destruction deserve well
to be noticed, as indicating the character of two Asia¬
tic nations : the riches and devout superstition of the
one, and the furious fanaticism which the other had
been able to diffuse over a great part of the world.
This pagoda, or temple, was endowed with the reve¬
nue of 2000 villages j 2000 Brahmins were consecrat¬
ed to the service of the deity, whom they readied
each morning and evening with water from the di¬
stant Ganges. The subordinate ministers consisted of
300 musicians, 300 barbers, and 500 dancing girls,
conspicuous for their birth or beauty. Three sides of
the temple were protected by the ocean : the narrow
isthmus was fortified by a natural or artificial preci¬
pice, and the city and adjacent country were peopled
by a nation of fanatics. They confessed the sins and
the punishment of Kinnoge and Delhi; but they boast¬
ed, that if the impious stranger should presume to ap¬
proach their holy precincts, he would surely be over¬
whelmed by a blast of the divine vengeance. By this
challenge the faith of Mahmud was animated to a per¬
sonal trial of the strength of this Indian deity. Fifty
thousand of his worshippers were pierced by tbe spears
of the Moslems ; the walls were scaled*, the sanctuary
was profaned ; and the conqueror aimed a blow of his
iron mace at the head of the idol. The trembling
Brahmins are said to have offered ten millions sterling
for his ransom *, and it was urged by the wisest coun¬
sellors, that the destruction of a stone image would
not change the hearts of the Gentoos, and that such a
sum might be dedicated to the relief of the true be¬
lievers: “Your reasons,” replied the sultan, “ are
specious and strong; but never in the eyes of posterity
shall Mahmud appear as a merchant of idols.” He
repeated his blows, and a treasure of pearls and rubies,
concealed in the belly of the statue, explained in some
degree the devout prodigality of the Brahmins. The
fragments of the idol were distributed to Gazna, Mec¬
ca, and Medina. Bagdad listened, says the historian,
to the edifying tale ; and Mahmud was saluted by thevol. v.
caliph, with tbe title of Guardian of the fortune and
faith of Mahomet. :;
Adjoining to the peninsula of Guzerat, and at the City of
bottom of the gulf of Cambay, stands the city of that Cambay,
name, which once was the capital of a considerable
kingdom. It is situated in a great manufacturing
country, which furnishes large quantities of coarse
unbleached cotton cloth, for Persia, Arabia, Egypt,
and Abyssinia ; also blue cloths for the same countries,
and for the English and Dutch trade on the western
coast of Africa ; likewise blue and white checks to be
used as mantles in Arabia and Turkey, some coarse,
and others enriched with gold ; muslins for turbans,
gauzes, mixed stuffs of silk and cotton, and shawls
made of the Cashmerian wool. This country also sends
annually to Surat, Bengal, China, Persia, and Arabia,
immense quantities of raw cotton, as well as rich cm- 46
broideries of various kinds. form of
From the bottom of the gulf of Cambay, the penin-^f^"*1*"
sula of western India may be said to begin in the strict-ji;nci00_
4 Z 2 estslan.
[ 732 ] A S I
Asia. est sense ; as a line of coast here commences, which
v n‘ proceeds without interruption, or any considerable
bending, to Cape Comorin, the southern part of the
peninsula, after which the coast suddenly turns to the
north-east ; and the bay of Bengal bounds the penin¬
sula on the east, hrom Cambay to Cape Comorin, the
western coast of the peninsula may be divided into
three unequal parts. The first extends from the most
advanced part of the gulf southward, a little beyond
the city of Surat. The second tract of coast, which is
more extensive than this, in a fourfold proportion, is
called t/ie coast of Cancan, or the pirate coast. To the
southward of this, the coast of the peninsula, all the
way to Cape Comorin, receives the appellation of the
Malabar coast. The first of these divisions, lying up¬
on the eastern shore of the gull of Cambay, consists of
a low country, into which the rivers descend from
the upper part of the peninsula of Hindustan. After
passing Surat, however, the physical structure of the
peninsula assumes a peculiar character well worthy of
attention. The Concan and Malabar coasts which
form almost the whole of the western shores of the pe¬
ninsula are extremely low, and a narrow stripe of le¬
vel land, of from 40 to 50 miles in breadth, runs along
the coast of Surat to Cape Comorin. At the back
^ of this stripe of low land, a chain of mountains runs
Ghauts, parallel to the sea shore. They are called the Ghauts,
and rise to a surprising height, opposing to the west a
lofty wall of rugged and precipitous rocks. The whole
chain seems one continued crest or wall, inaccessible
to the summit, unless by paths which have been work¬
ed by the hand of man, and which cannot be ascend¬
ed, even by a single traveller, without the fatiguing
labour of many hours. From the root of these rocks,
the plain towards the sea is variegated with small hills,
which gradually descend into a level and fertile coun¬
try, blest with a cool and healthy air. The small hills
near the foot of the Gnauts are clothed with forests
of the most valuable timber; and from the sides of the
mountains magnificent cataracts descend, forming tor¬
rents which facilitate the conveyance of the timber to
the sea coast.
The word signifies/wmv?; but this name has
been given to the whole front of rocks which over¬
looks the western coast. At the summit of the Ghauts
the country is level, and consists of an elevated tract
of fertile and populous plains, which are supported to
the west by the Ghauts, as by the walls of a terrace
formed on an immense scale. The country, however,
begins gradually to descend towards the east; and ac¬
cordingly from Surat to Cape Comorin, the great ri¬
vers of the peninsula uniformly flow' from the Ghauts
eastward, and form considerable tracts of low rich
land upon that coast, which receives the appellation of
the Cot'omandel coast. Thus the western peninsula of
India must be considered as resembling a plane, gradual¬
ly inclining towards the east, and supported on the west
by a long chain of lofty rocks.
In the north-western quarter of the peninsula, the
k.8*! two most consjderable rivers that flow into the gulf of
rivet-.11 3 Cambay> are tbe Nerbudda, in N. Lat. 23. 10. E.
Long. 82. 10. which runs a course of 700 miles, from
49 t^ie centre of the northern part of the peninsula ; and
TspU. the river Tapti, upon which stands the celebrated city
of feurat, in x\r. Lat. 21. 11. This city has long been
well known as a place of great commerce. It is the y—u
port from which the Mahometan pilgrims sail on their
way to Mecca. I he oldest British factory in India is
in tins city, anil it is still a place of the first commer¬
cial importance. Wheat grows in great abundance in
the surrounding country, of equal quality with that of
Europe, though it scarcely flourishes farther to the
south.
. tbe coast of Concan, or the Pirate coast, is the Coasi°of
island of Bombay, containing a celebrated British set-ConcaD, w
tlement which need not here be noticed. The PiratePiraU
coast contains a great variety of harbours, and is thu3COa,t'
described by Mr Kennel : “ Perhaps there are few
coasts so much broken into small bays and harbours,
and that at the same time have so straight a general
outline, ibis multitude of small ports, uninterrupted
view along shore, and elevated coasts favourable to di¬
stant vision, have fitted this coast for the seat of pira¬
cy ; and the alternate land and sea breezes that pre¬
vail during a great part of the year, oblige vessels to
navigate very near the shore. No wonder then that
Pliny should notice them in his time, as committing
depredations on the Koman East India trade ; and al¬
though a temporary check has been given them in the
destruction of Angria’s fleets, &c. ; yet we may ex¬
pect they will continue the practice while commerce
lasts. Ihey are protected by the shallowness of their
ports and the strength of the country within. As pi¬
rates, they have greater natural advantages than those
of Barbary, who being compelled to roam far from
their coast, have expensive outsets : here the prize*
come to their own doors, and the cruizers may be secure
in port until the prey is discovered.”
In ancient times the Romans wrere obliged to put on
board their merchant ships a number of archers to de¬
fend them against the attacks of these pirates. In mo¬
dern times the pirates have made a considerable fi¬
gure, particularly under a chief called Angria, who
was subdued by the English, and his port Gheriah ta¬
ken. They sometimes use vessels of 300 tons with
three masts ; but, in general, they are of 150 tons and.
only two masts. 1 heir cannon are six and nine pound¬
ers. They make prize of all that do not condescend
to purchase their passports. As the British trade in
these seas is carried on in large vessels, it does not suf¬
fer from the pirates ; but the ships of the Indians are
much exposed to their enterprises. It is said, that the
celebrated Ilyder Ally established a sea port upon this
coast, at the town of Mangalore, with a view of ac- 51
complishing a most grand but visionary plan. He had n^rAU ’
formed the project not only of becoming sovereign ofjyg project
the Indian seas, but even retaliating on the British the of invading
invasions they had made into India. To become a na-En»lan,i-
val power, he invited shipwrights from all countries,
and under them trained his own subjects. He had
heard something of the effects of frost in cold climates,
and had formed some strange ideas of the solidity and
strength, or hardness, of the waters of the European
seas. Under the notion, therefore, of combating
against oceans of ice, he strengthened his ships with
planks of great thickne ss. But his port was twice ta¬
ken by British detachments. In 1786 a fleet from
Bombay brought away from it nine great ships and se¬
veral
2
Asia.
51
Water
uf tlic Pi¬
rate coast.
A S I [ 733 1 A
III 1781, lie had nearly finished six is mined there in five years.
S I
veral lesser ones.
ips of the line, and several frigates and sloops of war,
when the port of Mangalore was again captured.
It is to be observed, that the approach to this coast
snakes show was formerly thought very dangerous. Ships were
ike vicinity hurried forward by so rapid a current, that they could
neither keep their reckoning, nor distinguish the coast
during the rainy season. Many vessels were conse¬
quently lost. These misfortunes have ceased, since an
observation was made of a fact noticed by Arrian in
ancient times, that in the Indian ocean, at a certain
distance from land, many water serpents, from 1 2 to 13
inches in length, are to be seen rising above the sur¬
face of the water. When these serpents are seen, they
indicate that the coast is precisely two degrees distant.
This coast of Concan was anciently denominated the
Lijmirica regio. It was greatly frequented by Roman
merchants, and is thus spoken of by Arrian : “ Origi¬
nally they performed only coasting voyages from har¬
bour to harbour, sailing from Cana, on the coast of A-
rabia Felix, till Hippalus, an adventurous seaman, ha¬
ving considered the situation of the harbours and the
form of the sea, found out a navigation through the
ocean, at the season in which the winds blow with us
from the sea, and the west-south-west wind prevails in
the Indian ocean, which wind is called Hippalus, from
the first discoverer of that navigation. From that time
till now, some sail in a direct course from Cana, others
from the harbour of the Aromati : they who sail for
Lymirica make a longer stay j others who steer for
Barygasa or Scythia, stay not above three days ; they
spend the rest of the time in completing their usual
voyage.”
Southward of Mangalore, all the way to Cape Co¬
morin, this shore receives the appellation of the Mala¬
bar coast. It contains several towns, the first of which
is Tellicherry : from the shore to the Ghauts, the coun¬
try here and elsewhere is extremely beautiful. Pepper
is the chief article of commerce 5 but coffee is also cul¬
tivated. There are various other towns of note, par¬
ticularly Mahi, originally a French settlement, Cali¬
cut, Canganore, Cochin, and Ajenga. The interior
of the level country, to the foot of the Ghauts, is co¬
vered with fine forests, both here and in Concan, which
contain that most valuable of all treasures for the na-
c«k wood, vigation of the Indian sea, the teek wood, which de¬
serves particular attention. It is an evergreen, and
esteemed a sacred tree. The Gentoos repair or build
their pagodas with this timber only, when timber is
at all used. Its property of resisting the worm, which
in these climates is so destructive to all ships, renders
it of the utmost importance. Mr Rennel speaks in
the following terms of it: “I cannot close this ac¬
count, without remarking the unpardonable negligence
we are guilty of in delaying to build teek ships of
war for the use of the Indian seas. They might be
freighted home without the ceremony of regular equip¬
ment, as to masts, sails, and furniture, which might
be calculated just to answer the purpose of the home
passage at the best season, and crews could be provided
in India. The letter annexed, which wras written
W’ith the best intentions nine or ten years ago, will ex¬
plain the circumstance of the same case. Teek ships
of forty years old and upwards, are no uncommon ob¬
jects in the Indian seas, while an European built ship
53
rtalabar
enut,
54
The ships built at Bombay a.sku
are the best, both in point of workmanship and matei’ials, —v—-
ol any that are constructed in India; and although
fourth rates are mentioned only in the letter, there is no
doubt that third rates may be constructed, as there is
a choice ot timber. The Spaniards build capital ships
in their foreign settlements. The East India Company
have a teek ship on her fourth voyage at present, which
ship has wintered in England ; therefore, any objection
founded on the effects of frost on the teek timber is don&
away.
“ ! requent have been the opportunities I have had
of ob serving how very rapid the decay of ships built
of European timber is in the East Indies; and, on
the contrary, how durable the ships are that are built
of the wood of that country, namely, the teek, which
may not be improperly styled Indian oak. The num¬
ber of ships of war that were ruined in those seas during
the late war (1757 to 1762,) may be admitted as 3
proof of the former remark ; and the great age of the
ships built in India may serve to prove the latter..
What I mean to infer from this for your lordships
use is, that ships of war under third rates may be con¬
structed in India, and, with moderate repairs, last for
ages ; whereas a ship ol European construction can re¬
main there but a very few years ; to which disadvan¬
tage may be added, that of losing, in the mean time, the-
services of the ships that are sent to relieve the worn-
out ones.
To the westward of the Malabar coast, at the di- Lnccadi*#
stance of several leagues, are the Laccadive isles. They »le«.
extend from latitude io° to 12*50'north. They are
supposed to be the isles mentioned by Ptolemy, under
the title of Insulce numero 19; though in fact they
are 32 in number. They are small, and covered with
trees. They have some trade. They export the pro¬
duct of the cocoa trees, that is to say, the oil extract¬
ed from the nut, and cordage formed of the rind..
They also export dried fish to the continent of India,
and receive rice in return. Ambergrease is frequent¬
ly found floating near these islands. At a considerable ^
distance from the Laccadives are the Maidive islands. Maldire*.
They extend from N. Lat. 1. to 7. 25. From their
number, Ptolemy calls them Insulce 1378. The na¬
tives make the number of their isles amount to 12,000.
They are divided into 13 provinces under one king,
whose subjects are miserably poor. He assumes, how¬
ever, the magnificent title of sultan of the Maldives,
king of 13 provinces and 12,000 isles: But these isles,
whatever their number may be, are extremely trifling..
A fishery, however, is carried on in their vicinity ; and
they produce cocoa nuts, which, with the cordage pro-,
duced from that useful tree, are sold upon the western,
coast of India. These isles are chiefly worthy of notice,,
on account of one article obtained from them; this is-
the cowry, a small species of shell, the cypreta tnoneta
of L innseus. These shells, which appear to be pro-shell*,
duced in the Maldives alone, have been used as cur¬
rent coin for ages past in different parts of the world.
The shells are collected twice in the month, at the full
and new moon, by the women, who wade into the sea
for that purpose up to their middle. They are pack¬
ed up in parcels of 12,000 each, and are used as cur¬
rent money among the poor in Bengal. As provisions
are exceedingly cheap in that country, it is found ab-,
soluteijr
A S I t 734 ] A S I
Asia.
58
Cape Co¬
morin.
Sit
Ceylon.
solutely necessary to employ, for the Use of the common
people, something less valuable than any coin formed
of metal. These shells or cowries serve this purpose.
One cowry is rated in Bengal at the hundredth and
sixtieth part of a penny. Eighty cowries make a pun j
and from 50 to 60 puns are equal to a rupee, or four
shillings and sixpence British money. In Africa, in
the country of the negroes, upon the rivers Niger, Sene¬
gal, and Gambia, thes'e cowries also pass as current mo¬
ney ; but at about ten times the value that they bear in
Bengal. Hence, the English, French, and Dutch, are
induced to purchase them in India, and to bring them
to Europe, from whence they are afterwards exported
for the purposes of trade ; and thus, an useless shell,
brought from the miserable islands of which we are now
speaking, comes to be ultimately employed to purchase
the persons of men.
Cape Comorin is the most southern part of this pe¬
ninsula, and consequently of Hindostan. It is in N. Lat.
8°. A little to the north of this cape, the Ghauts
terminate. The sea adjacent to it is considered by the
natives as sacred, and persons resort thither to perform
ablutions and lustrations. From this point the land
turns towards the north-east, along the gulf of Man-
ara, which is between the main-land and the island of
Ceylon. This island was known to the ancients, by
the name of Taprobana. Pliny treats very particular¬
ly" concerning it, and the Arabian geographers of a
later age give it the name of Serendib. It is rich in
almost all mineral productions excepting the diamond,
and possesses a fertile soil. On account of the cinna¬
mon which it produces, the Portuguese made themselves
masters of the whole of its ports. In 1656, they were
expelled by the Dutch ; who had been invited thither
by the monarch of the island, to rescue him from the
state of dependance in which he was held by the Por¬
tuguese. The emperor repaid the Dutch in cinnamon,
all the expence of their efforts in his favour j and in
return speedily found himself in the same dependant
state as before bis victories over the Portuguese. The
dunning Dutchmen obtained from him a grant of coast,
round the island, 12 miles in breadth, reckoning from
the sea ; and under pretence of defending him from
foreign invasions, they fortified every one of his ports.
Having thus hemmed in his majesty, these good allies
had it at all times in their power, by refusing to sell him
salt, to compel him and his subjects to submit to any
terms they were pleased to dictate.
It is to be observed, that the natives of this island
differ totally in their language, and in a considerable
degree in their religion, from the inhabitants of the
neighbouring continent. They are worshippers of Bud-
ho or Gaudma, who they believe came upon earth for
the salvation of mankind. They have many pagodas
or temples, which are richly carved. Between the
island of Ceylon and the continent, at the narrowest
part of the strait, is a chain of rocks which runs en¬
tirely across the channel. The length of the chain is
about 30 miles, but the whole is frequently interrupted
by narrow passages, which however are extremely shal¬
low". It is very probable that this succession of rocks,
at some period, formed part of an isthmus, which uni¬
ted Ceylon to the continent. Pliny takes notice of
the greenish cast of this shallow part of the channel,
of its being filled with shrubs, that is, with corals. On
each side of the chain of rocks, the water does not eic- Asia
ceed for some distance the depth of 13 or 14 feet. The 1 x—^
chain of rocks which we have now mentioned, is call¬
ed by the Mahometans Adam's Bridge. Their tradi-Ada6°
tion is, that our common father, alter his transgression, bridge,
was cast down from paradise, which they understand
to have been celestial, and not terrestrial as we do ;
that he fell upon Ceylon 5 but that afterwards this
bridge was made by angels, to enable him to pass over
to the continent. The highest mountain of the island, 6
which is of a conical form, is called Adam’s Peak. On Adam’s
the summit is a flat stone, with an impression resem--f>eak
bling a human foot, which is two feet long. The Ma¬
hometans say that it is the mark of Adam’s foot; that
he fell from paradise on this summit, and that Eve fell
near Judda in Arabia. They were separated 200 years,
after which he found his wife, and conducted her to
his old retreat in Ceylon, where he died and was bu¬
ried, and where twm large tombs remain, which are vi¬
sited by Mahometan pilgrims. But the Pagan inhabi¬
tants of the island ascribe the mark of the foot to
their great deity Buddo, Budho, or Gaudma, when he
ascended into heaven. To this summit therefore they
also make pilgrimages, and here they offer sacrifices,
which, by an ancient custom, descriptive of a very tole¬
rant spirit, they give to the. Mahometan pilgrims. 62
Fins fine island, with the valuable spices and other Ceylon re¬
riches which abound in it, is now relinquished by the,inclui.sl^d
Dutch in favour of the British : and it remains to beto Britain"
seen, whether the natives will find their independence
increased by this new alteration of the protectors of
their coast, and the purchasers of their cinnamon ; or
whether the monarch and his people will not as usual
be kept under controul, by the aid of the monopoly of
salt, an article of immense importance in hot climates
where vegetable food is chiefly used.
From Cape Comorin north-eastward to Cape Cal-
mere, in N. Lat. io° 20', is above 220 miles. The
country is watered by frequent streams from the north¬
west, that is, descending from the eastern side or summit
of the Ghauts. At Cape Calmere what is properly call- ,
ed the Coromandel coast begins. In the southern part of Coromandel
it is the pearl fishery, which has been well known and coast,
practised during several ages. ^
Around Cape Calmere, is the delta of the river Ca-River Ca-
very, which proceeding from the south of the Ghauts, very,
near the western shore of the peninsula, there forms
an extensive tract of low and fertile land, well suited
to the cultivation of rice, the grain best suited to hot
climates. This delta formed what was called the king¬
dom of Tanjore, now a province belonging to the British
East India Company. The river is at one place divid¬
ed by an island called Seringham, upon which are two
pagodas or Indian temples, one of which is perhaps the
most famed in Hindostan for its sanctity, magnitude,
and the vast resort of pilgrims, who go to it from all 6
quarters. Mr Orme gives the following description of Pagoda of
this sacred retreat. “ It is composed of seven square Seringliam.
enclosures one within the other, the walls of which are
20 feet high, and four feet thick. These enclosures
are 350 feet distant from one another, and each has
four large gates with a high tower, which are placed,
one in the middle of each side of the enclosure, and
opposite to the four cardinal points. The outward wall
is near four miles in circumference, and its gateway to
the
Asia.
66
Tranque-
Dar and
Pondi-
dierry.
• 61
Vultures.
A s 1 [ 735 ]
the south is ornamented with pillars, several of which extensive coast
-1 are single stones 35 ieet long, and nearly five in dia¬
meter; and those which form the roof are still larger.
In the inmost enclosures are the chapels. About half
a mile to the east of Seringham, and nearer to the Ca-
very than the Coleroon, is another large pagoda called
Jumbakistna, but this has only one enclosure. The ex¬
treme veneration in which Seringham is held, arises
from a belief that it contains the identical image of the
god Wistchnn, which used to be worshipped by the god
Brachma. Pilgrims from all parts of the peninsula
come here to obtain absolution, and none come with¬
out an offering of money ; and a lai^ge part of the re¬
venue of the island is allotted for the maintenance of
the Brah mins who inhabit the pagoda ; and these with
their families formerly composed a multitude not less
than 40,000 souls, maintained without labour by the li¬
berality of superstition. Here, as in all the other great
pagodas of India, the Brahmins live in a subordination
which knows no resistance, and slumber in a voluptu¬
ousness which knows no wants; and sensible of the hap¬
piness of their condition, they quit not the silence of
their retreats to mingle in the tumults of the state, nor
point the brand, flaming from the altar, against the
authority of the sovereign, or the tranquillity of the
government.”
Upon the same coast is situated the small Danish
settlement of Tranquehar ; to the northward of which
is Pondicherry, a settlement formerly belonging to the
French, hut now permanently annexed to the British
possessions. Near Pondicherry, the bird called the
vulture is frequently found. This animal is well known
to feed upon dead or putrid carcases. A singular cir¬
cumstance concerning it has been observed in every
age in the eastern countries, that though very rare in a
particular quarter, yet when two hostile armies approach
to give battle to each other, the air is suddenly seen fill¬
ed with multitudes of them, flying with their usual slug¬
gish vvimj, from every quarter, to partake of the car¬
nage. Hence in former times they were supposed to
possess a prophetic instinct, or presage of battle, which
led them to seek the spot of future slaughter three days
before the event. To this opinion Milton alludes,
wThen he compares the great enemy of mankind to one
of these birds.
A
I
Asia.
As when a flock
68
.ushna.
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote,
Against the day of battle, to a field
Where armies lie encamp’d, come flying, lur’d
With scent of living carcases design’d
For death, the following day, in bloody fight ;
So scented the.grim feature, and upturn’d
His nostril wide into the murky air,
Sagacious of his quarry from afar.”
Paradise Lost, book x. 1. 273.
Between Pondicherry and Madras, the. river Paliar
enters the sea. Upon this river, about 66 miles above
its mouth, stands the city of Arcot, the Arcati re¬
gia Sorcz of Ptolemy, and Soro-mandalam, corrupted
into the modern Coromandel, giving name to the whole
coast.
At a considerable distance to the north is the great
river Kistnab or Krishna, in Lat. 15. 43. It rises near
the western Ghauts, and like all the other rivers of this
nnuully overflows a vast tract of coun¬
try. Into the north side of this river, in Lat. 16. 20.'
flows a great stream called the river Beema, which al¬
so rises at the head of the Ghauts, within 50 miles of
the other side of the peninsula. It runs a course of
350 miles. To the north of the river Krishna is the
celebrated and once powerful kingdom of Golconda,
abounding in corn, rice, cattle, sheep, and every neces¬
sary ol life ; also in fish, which are found in the nume¬
rous rivers, which in some places are in a great mea¬
sure formed by art. Dams are made across the hollows
between hills sometimes half a league in length. These
are filled during the rainy season ; and the inhabitants
introduce the water as it is wanted into the lower coun¬
try, which, assisted by the heat of this climate, pro¬
duces prodigious fertility. ^
The river Godavery is the next great stream upon Godavery.
this eastern coast of the peninsula. Like the.others,
it rises near the western coast, and flows towards the
east. It is joined by another great river called the
Bam-gonga. The delta of this river is of vast fertility,
enriched by the soil brought down by the periodical
inundations. To this river succeeds a flat coast, which,
unlike the more southerly parts of this eastern side of
the peninsula, has behind it, at some distance inland, a
barren lofty chain of rude and almost inaccessible
mountains. The part of the coast betwixt the sea and
these mountains is called the Circars. To the north¬
ward the country descends regularly towards the
east, as throughout the rest of the peninsula. In
general, however, it is soft and morassy, though fer¬
tile. This country was known in the time of Plinv.
It is now called Orissa or Orixa, and was in his time
said to be the seat of the Gangaridce Calingce, whose
monarch was very powerful, being able to bring into
the field 70,000 foot, 1000 horse, and 300 elephants.
Beyond this part of the Indian territory, at some di¬
stance, the mouths of the Ganges begin, forming the
extremity of the bay of Bengal, and of the eastern side
of this peninsula.
The Ganges is the most celebrated of all the eastern Ganges,
rivers, being in every part of its course held sacred by
the original inhabitants of the country. It periodical¬
ly overflows an immense extent of fertile territory,
formed by the deposition of mud, which in the course
of ages it has brought down from the higher country.
Compared to this mighty stream, tiie Egyptian Nile
sinks into insignificance, and the fertility which it pro¬
duces is trifling. So completely is the whole of this
country formed by the alluvions of its river, that there
is not a stone quarry on the banks of the Ganges for
the space of 500 miles. The depth of the river
to that distance is 30 feet. Immediately at the
mouth, however, it is obstructed by the mud brought
down by its own floods, so that its eastern or true
channel cannot be entered by large vessels. The ^
channel called the Hoogleij river, upon which the Hoogley.-
city of Calcutta stands, is the most useful of its
mouths, being that which is entered by large vessels,
though even at the mouth of this branch great danger
is experienced from numbers of longitudinal banks at
its entrance, formed by the mud or sand brought down
and deposited there by the waters of the river. There
are some other branches also which may be entered
during the rainy season, or at its close. At the great
tract:
A S I t 736 ] A S I
A*i«. tract which faces the bay is a collection of flat islands,
^ v * divided by a labyrinth of canals covered with trees, and
forming altogether a forest as large as the principality
of Wales. The head of the delta is 220 miles from
the sea in a straight line. The numerous channels which
pass through it in every direction, form a complete in¬
land navigation along the lower parts. Ships sail
amidst a forest divided into numberless isles by a con¬
tinual labyrinth of channels, so various in breadth that
a vessel has at one time her masts almost entangled in
trees, while at another she passes uninterruptedly along
a capacious river beautifully sheltered with woods.
I he woods, however, are dreadfully infested by tigers,
to which the pious Hindoos, when coming on a pilgri-
mage, to wash themselves in the sacred stream, are apt
to fall a prey.
Source of ^t has been already mentioned, that this great river
the Gau- rises in the southern part of the high central region of
sf8** Asia. Its source is a small stream which issues from
under a mass of snow accumulated on the south side of
the Himmalaya mountains, between 310 and 320 of
north latitude, and 78° and 790 of east longitude. From
thence the Ganges proceeds to a considerable distance
westward, among mountains, after which it precipitates
itself into a deep chasm, from which, at a great dis¬
tance, it escapes, and enters at once, as from a second
source, into the vast and fertile plains of Hindoostan.
Ihrough these it runs navigable with an easv and smooth
current 1320 miles, till it reaches the sea. The place at
which it emerges through a gap or division of the lofty
I mans, or southern front of Tartary, is called Hurdwar.
In this neighbourhood the mountains are covered with
lofty spires of ice, overlooking the torrid plains of India.
Into the Ganges flow multitudes of great rivers from
each side, which give a matchless inland navigation. It
receives in its course through the plains eleven rivers,
some of which are equal in size to the Rhine, and none
less than the Thames. It maintains 30,000 boatmen by
the carriage of salt and food for ten millions of people
in the province of Bengal, and all this independent ofits
fisheries, and ofits different exports and imports. Where
it passes through valleys which require not the aid of
its inundations to assist the fertility of the soil, the coun¬
try is defended by vast dikes, which are kept up at an
enormous expence. One branch of the Ganges is thus
confined for the extent of 70 miles, so that when the
river is full, passengers in ships and boats look down
on each side as from a lofty eminence into the adjacent
country. Its w;aters are periodically increased by the
tropical rains, and by the melting of the snows in the
mountains of Tartary adjacent to its source j it then
assumes the appearance of a sea of almost boundless ex¬
tent. When the rains subside the water quickly passes
away, and in its stead there suddenly ascends to view a
fertile country, which, by the rapidity of tropical ve¬
getation, is almost instantly covered with corn fields
and other plantations, some of the islands of the Ganges
producing three or four crops yearly.
Jlmiua. The most important of the rivers which join the
Ganges is the Jumna from the south. It proceeds
through a very fertile country 5 and Delhi and Agra,
the ancient Mogul capitals, are situated upon" it.
Though the waters of the Ganges are in every part
held sacred, yet they are doubly so at their junction
with the Jumna, which is also accounted sacred. The
city, which stands at the junction or forks of the two Ash.
rivers, is therefore called Allahabad or the City of God. v—
At some distance below this is the city and district of
Benares, the great seat of the Hindoo sciences, in which
the Brahmins instruct immense numbers of pupils in
their religion, contained in books written in, what is
now a dead language, the Sanscrit. Many other great
cities stand upon this river, of which it is unnecessary
here to take notice. The whole country naturally en¬
joys extreme fertility, and being possessed by an indus¬
trious people it abounds with inhabitants.
To the north-east of Bengal, which is the province Beotia,
at the mouth of the Ganges, the high country of
Bootan is situated, near the foot of the mountains that
overlook the plains of Hindoostan. Here the great
chain of Emodus, caped with eternal snow, shows it¬
self to the inhabitants of Hindoostan, over the lesser
hills which guard its approach. On the eastward of ^
the Ganges the river Burrampooter also falls into the
bay of Bengal. This river is superior to the Ganges in pooler,
size and in extent of course. It rises, like it, in the
southern part of the high regions of Tartary, but flows
eastward j and as its channel lies among rugged rocks
and mountains, inhabited only by scattered and bar¬
barous tribes, it is of little renown, and till lately was
unnoticed by strangers, though its mouth is close to the
mouth of the Ganges. It has only been discovered
to be a first-rate river so late as the year 1765. Be¬
yond the lower part of the Burrampooter, Hindoostan
speedily terminates to the east, at a narrow chain of
mountains running from north to south, the last pro¬
vince receiving the appellation of Chittago?ig. This
province proceeds only to a short distance southward
along the eastern shore of the bay of Bengal.
The great country of Hindoostan, from the Panjab
and the course of the Indus on the west, to the lower
part of the Burrampooter and Chittagong on the east,
and from the front of Tartary on the north to Cape
Comorin on the south, has undoubtedly from the most
distant ages been one of the most fertile and populous
regions on the globe. Its civilization runs back to
the remotest periods, and the monuments of ancient
magnificence which it exhibits are innumerable. When
Alexander the Great invaded the western part of it,
he found it, as it now is, filled with an industrious,
wealthy, and civilized people, possessing the same reli¬
gion and manners as at present. In its original state
it does not appear that India, like China, was ever
united under one government, unless when subjected
to a foreign yoke. It would seem to have been divided
into a great number of independent principalities, and
it has always had a tendency to fall back into that state,
a circumstance which has rendered its different parts
an easy prey to foreigners. The Hindoos are a mild t'harac-
and humane people j but they are at the same time an ter oftha
extremely inactive, timid, and feeble race of men, pa- Hindoo*,
tient of insults and injustice, so that all invaders have
been able to subdue them. A Tartar conquest intro¬
duced the Mahometan religion and a feudal govern¬
ment into their country, and changed their language
for that of Persia, though to this day the Mahometans
are only as one to ten of the population. The British
also coming from an island of the Western ocean, have,
with a handful of men, been able to become their
masters. A remnant, indeed, of Hindoo independence
exist
AST t 737 ] A S I
Ada. exists in what are called the Mahratta states, upon the
v summit of the Ghauts in the western part of the penin¬
sula ; but this independence they will not probably be
long able to preserve. Even in the ordinary exertions
of life, the Hindoos act like men destitute of energy.
As carpenters, for example, they perform their work
with much neatness and dexterity, but they employ
small and light tools, which to men of a more vigorous
character and habit, appear contemptible j and when
an ordinary beam is to be turned over, an assistant la¬
bourer must give his aid, of which an European work¬
man would not perceive the necessity ; but the Hindoos
living in a country in which labour is extremely cheap,
are accustomed to supply by numbers their own defi¬
ciency of energy of mind, or of strength of body.
A general imbecility of character seems indeed to
mark this nation, or an incapacity to make any vigor¬
ous effort of self-command. In -matters of intellect
they are slaves of imagination and of education. On
the banks of the Ganges, in a fertile climate, in which
human life is easily sustained, and the constitution na¬
turally prone to indolence, a superstition has been invent¬
ed which seems to have proved a source of the greatest
misfortunes to the nation. Not only is the imagina¬
tion filled, and the exercise of the understanding in¬
jured, by endless legends or tales about the transfigu¬
ration of their divinities, but a set of ceremonies and
regulations is introduced which places every part of
life under controul. The whole people are divided in¬
to tribes or hereditary casts. A member of one of
these casts cannot marry into a different cast without
contracting impurity, and being for ever dishonoured
or driven out of his tribe. A Hindoo is not permit¬
ted by his religion to eat with a stranger, or even to
drink water that has been drawn by impure hands,
that is to say, by persons belonging to a different cast.
One cast only, the Rajaputes, are permitted to eat ani¬
mal food, but the rest are compelled by their religion
to live upon vegetables alone. Endless minute obser¬
vances in their eatings are also imposed upon them,
founded on the notion of the possibility of contracting
pollution in this way. Thus are the Hindoos, though
a mild and humane race, rendered in the most ordi¬
nary actions of life, the most unsocial as well as the
most irrational of mankind. Being occupied at every
moment by some religious ceremony or other, and fill¬
ed with the dread of pollution, they appear contemp¬
tible to those strangers whom they avoid as profane or
impure. From the impossibility, in this manner im¬
posed upon them, of uniting in any respect with the
Tartars who conquered their country, they have sunk
into a degraded and despised race ; whereas, could they
have united or mingled with the invaders, they must
speedily have become as one people, and the evils re¬
sulting from conquest would gradually have been for¬
gotten. They have persevered for ages in the same
intellectual errors, because they have got possession of
their imaginations, and because they want energy to
cast off any habit or train of thought to which they
have once submitted.
The Hindoos appear to be no less destitute of self-
command in their active than in their intellectual
powers. Hence arises the unbounded superiority in all
military enterprises which the Europeans possess over
them. The attack of their armies is thus described by
VoL. II. Part II. f
an ingenious writer : “ It may perhaps afford some
measure of gratification to European curiosity, to be
informed, that the undisciplined troops of Asia, general¬
ly inflamed with dang and other intoxicating drugs,
pour forth, as they advance, a torrent of menacing
and abusive language on their adversaries. Every ex¬
pression of contempt and aversion, every threat, fitted
to make any impression of terror, or to excite ideas of
horror, that custom readily presents or inventive fancy
can suggest, accompanies the utmost ferocity of looks,
voice, and gesture. A murmuring sound, with clouds
of dust, announces their approach, while they are yet
at the distance of several miles. As they advance,
their accents are more and more distinctly heard, until
at last, with their eyes fixed and tveapons pointed at
some individual, they devote him, with many execra¬
tions, to destruction, giving his flesh, like the heroes in
Homer and the Philistine warriors, to the dogs, and the
birds of the air, and the beasts of the field. The num¬
bers of the Asiatic armies, the ferocity of their manner,
and the novelty of their appearance, would unnerve
and overcome the hearts of the small European bodies
that are opposed to them in the field of battle, if ex¬
perience had not sufficiently proved how much the
silence of discipline excels barbarian noise, and unifor¬
mity of design and action, the desultory efforts of brutal
force, acting by starts, and liable to the contagion of
accidental impression.”
Indeed the superiority of Europeans over Hindoos is
so great, that it is never balanced by almost any differ¬
ence in point of numbers. If a body of European
troops is only sufficiently numerous to cover a tolerable
extent of ground, so that one part of them may rest
while the other is on guard, and that advantage may
be taken of the victory when gained, the event of the
war is uniformly unfavourable to the feeble natives of
this region. There seems to exist a defect in their
moral nature, to which military discipline cannot afford
a remedy. An European gentleman, though a stranger
to the use of arms, if called upon by what he accounts
his honour or his duty, is able, with an unchanging
countenance, to meet the hazard of instant death, and
can take the chance of giving or receiving destruction
with little passion, and without exhibiting the external
symptoms either of anger or of fear. The case is dif¬
ferent with the mild and timid inhabitants of Hindoo*
stan $ they cannot meet danger with coolness and re¬
collection, but are under the necessity of working
themselves into a rage, which enables them to rush up¬
on perils which they are unable calmly to encounter.
Thus their fury is irregular and fruitless, like that of
men under the influence of intoxication j while at the
same time, if their passion decline for an instant, they
are seized with sudden terror, and under its influence
sometimes rush into greater perils than they wished to
avoid. They possess throughout their country fortresses
situated upon elevated and precipitous mountains, or
surrounded by works of art of inconceivable solidity
and strength. Many of these fortresses, under defence,
would prove absolutely impregnable, and in this ardent
climate, the armies of their northern invaders might
perish miserably before them , but these fortresses the
Hind oos have been utterly unable to defend. They
cannot long remain coolly and without passion on the
defensive j in some moment or other of weakness tlay
5 A become
. A S I [ 733 ] A S I
seTv0eTehPeandlContrUfCk’ ^ aH ^ f ^ ^ f7 t0 SUggeSt’ therefore’ to such of °ur countrymen as
' selves headlong from the summit of the walls, and have occasion to reside for any length of time amonc
^ murdered the.r wives and children, this ancient people, that one of the most valuable ser-
they cast themselves upon the weapons of their anta- vices which they can perform to society in Europe
fatim/thatacr8 ' ^ I"th.1S ™aiJn?r’ til0USh the agi- might consist of executing and transmitting accurate
tahon that accompanies their blind fury prevents them descriptions of the different tools and machinery made
Asia.
What ad¬
vantages
arise from
an inter-
from finding revenge for their calamities.
In every age, the inhabitants of Hindoostan, who
want nothing from the rest of mankind, have received
an inter- ^ie anc^ 3dyer of other nations in return for the
course with Prcci°us productions of their favoured soil : the sugar,
Hindoo- the spices, the gems, and the valuable manufactures of
stan. the country, have at all times been sought, either by
commerce or by conquest. But excepting these pro¬
ductions of nature, or of art, it does not appear that
any valuable advantages can be derived from an inter¬
course with the people. Notwithstanding the high an¬
tiquity of their civilization, they are inferior in every
branch ot science to ourselves. I heir moral and poli¬
tical speculations are extremely trifling, so far at least
as has hitherto been discovered. Eheir poetry may
have its beauties, but it undoubtedly equals not the
productions of the north-western regions, that is, of
Europe. It is probable, that the only branch of va¬
luable knowledge which could be improved by an in¬
tercourse with the people of these countries is, that
which concerns the construction of different machines,
or the performance of processes connected with the va--
rious parts of manufacturing, agricultural, or domestic
economy. They are understood to possess several
machines of wonderful simplicity, and to perform m'a-
ny processes in an easier and less expensive mode than
we are accustomed to do in Europe. They used, from
time immemorial, the drill-plough, which with us is a
late invention. Their hand-mills for grinding grain
are at once simple and effectual ; as also their process
of distillation. It ought to be recollected by the Eu-
1 opean nations, that they are but of yesterday when
compared with the Hindoos j though we have outrun
them in the career of intellect, or of general science,
yet the improvement of the processes and instruments
connected with the economy of ordinary life requires
various successive experiments, which can only be per¬
formed during a great length of time, especially if
these processes are not usually performed by persons
conversant in the highest walks of literature. All
newly invented machines and processes are apt to be
complex, expensive, and imperfect. It is only after
repeated^ tuals and alterations that they are reduced
to that simplicity which constitutes their excellence.
Ample leisure has been allowed for these trials and im¬
provements in the civilized nations of the East; and
the simplicity of their machines, which deducts from
their apparent importance, ought to be regarded as
their perfection. Ihey were probably invented by
more ingenious men than those who now use them,
and they probably had the same imperfections by which
ours are at present affected : but succeeding genera¬
tions gradually improved them, and they have at last
come down into the possession of a degenerate race
incapable of discerning the value of tools in whose
construction there is no seeming intricacy, though their
gradual progress to the present state may have requi¬
red much exertion from successive minds possessed of
great energy and ingenuity. We may take the liber-
2
use of by the Hindoos, and of the processes used by
them in the different branches of their domestic eco¬
nomy and management. The discovery of the ancient
code of Roman law at Amalfi in Italy, together with
the introduction of Grecian literature after the taking
of Constantinople by the Turks, gave to the European
nations immense assistance in their progress to civiliza¬
tion, by exhibiting to them the practices and the senti¬
ments of a former enlightened age, and thereby abridg¬
ing their labour in the pursuit of intellectual improve-
nient. A similar aid, or abridgement of the labours of
invention, would in all probability be derived from a
minute acquaintance with the practices and machinery
employed with success during so many ages in the eco¬
nomy of Hindostan.
Leaving this mild, but timid and feeble race of men,Eastern
we pass to the eastern peninsula of India, a narrow peninsula
part of which stretches under the name of Malacca toof
within two degrees of the equator. Before advancing
to the main land, however, we may notice towards the
south-eastern part of the bay of Bengal a group of isles
called the Andamans, chiefly remarkable on account of
the singular people by whom they are inhabited. They Andaman
are the northern division of a number of small islands,isles,
stretching from lo° 32' to 130 40' N. Lat. and from
90 6' to 920 9' E. Long. : the southern division of
these isles is called the Nicobaj's, inhabited by a mild
and inoffensive people. Wliat is called the Great An¬
daman, the chief of the northern division of islands, is
140 miles in length, and 20 in breadth. A settlement
was established upon it by the British in 1793, and con¬
victs are transported thither from Bengal. All that
voyagers have related of uncivilized life is said to fall
short of the barbarism of the people of Andaman. The
ferocious natives of New Zealand, or the shivering
half-animated savages of Terra del Fuego, are in a
state of refinement, compared to these islanders. The *
population of the Great Andaman, and its dependen¬
cies amounts to little more than 2000 souls, whose sole
occupation it is to rove along the margin of the sea in
quest of a precarious meal of fish, which during the
tempestuous season they often seek in vain. In stature,
the Andamaners seldom exceed five feet. Their limbs
are disproportionably slender, their bellies protuberant,
with high shoulders and large heads; and, strange to
find in this part of the world, they are a degenerate
race of negroes, with woolly hair, flat noses, and thick
lips. Their eyes are small and red ; their skin of a
deep sooty black ; whilst their countenances exhibit
the extreme of wretchedness, a mixture of famine and
ferocity. Ihey go quite naked, and are insensible of
any shame from exposure. Two young women, allu- Sjjmei's
red by the temptation of fish, were secured, and brought
on board a ship at anchor in the harbour. The captain
treated them with great humanity : They soon got rid
of all fear of violence, except what might be offered to
their chastity, which they guarded with unremitting
vigilance. Although they had a small apartment al¬
lotted to themselves, and had no real cause for appre¬
hension,
A S I [ 739 3 A S I
Asia. hension, one always watched while the other slept,
“-v——' They suftered clothes to be put on, but took them off
again as soon as opportunity offered, and threw them
away as useless incumbrances. When their fears were
over, they became cheerful, chattered with freedom,
and were inexpressibly diverted at the sight of their
own persons in a mirror. They were fond of singing,
sometimes in melancholy recitative, at others in a lively
key j and often danced about the deck with great agi¬
lity, slapping their posteriors with the back of their
heel. Wine and spirituous liquors were disagreeable
to them : no food seemed so palatable as fish, rice, and
sugar. In a few weeks, having recovered strength,
and become fat, from the more than half famished state
in which they were brought on board, they began to
think confinement irksome, and longed to regain their
native freedom. In the middle of the night, when all
but the watchmen were asleep, they passed in silence
through the captain’s cabin, jumped out of the stern
windows into the sea, and swam to an island half a mile
distant, where it was in vain to pursue them, had there
been any such intention ; but the object was, to retain
them by kindness, not by compulsion 5 an attempt that
has failed on every trial. Hunger may (and these in¬
stances are rare) induce them to put themselves in the
power of strangers ; but the moment that want is sa¬
tisfied, nothing short of coercion can prevent them from
returning to a way of life more congenial to their sa¬
vage nature. The few implements they use are of the
rudest texture ; a bow from four to five feet long; the
string made of the fibre of a tree, or a slip of bamboo,
with arrows of reed, headed with fish bone, or wood
hardened in the fire, is their principal weapon. Be¬
sides this they carry a spear of heavy wood sharply
pointed, and a shield made of bax-k, to defend them¬
selves from the assaults of their enemies j for even these
poor wretches have rights to assert and dignities to
maintain. Necessity has taught them an expert ma¬
nagement of their arms, on which they rely for subsist¬
ence. Happily for them, their numerous bays and
creeks abound with fish, which they shoot and spear
with surprising dexterity. They are said also to use a
small hand-net made of the filaments of bark ; the fish,
when caught, are put into a wicker basket, which they
carry on their backs. Having kindled a fire, they
throw the food en the coals, and devour it half-broiled.
A few diminutive swine are to be found in the skirts of
the forests, and among the mangrove thickets in the
low grounds j but these are very scarce, and are pro¬
bably the progeny of a stock left by former naviga¬
tors. When a native has the good fortune to slay one,
he carefully preserves the skull and teeth, to ornament
his hut. They cross the bays, and go to fish, either in
canoes formed of a hollow tree, or on rafts of bamboo,
which they direct by paddles. Their habitations dis¬
play little more ingenuity than the dens of wild beasts j
for sticks stuck in the ground are bound together at
the top, and fastened transversely by others, to which
branches of trees are suspended j an opening is left on
one side, just large enough to admit of entrance $—
leaves compose their bed. Being much incommoded
by insects, their first occupation in a morning is to pla¬
ster their bodies all over with mud, which, hardening
in the sun, forms an impenetrable armour. They paint
their woolly heads with red ochre and water. When
thus completely dressed, a more hideous appearance is Asia,
not to be found in human form. e—
Although their principal food consists of fish, yet
they eagerly seize on whatever else presents itself: li¬
zards, guanas, rats, and snakes, supply a change of re¬
past. The vegetable diet of the Andamaners consists
ol the natural produce of the woods, in which the re¬
searches of Europeans find little that is palatable or
nutritious. The fruit of the mangrove is principally
used, having often been found in their deserted habita¬
tions, steeping in an embanked puddle of water. As
they have no pot or vessel that can bear the action of
fire, they cannot derive much advantage from such es¬
culent herbs as the forests may contain ; indeed, their
extenuated and diseased figures too plainly indicate the
want of wholesome nourishment. Unhappily for them,
the cocoa-nut, which thrives in the utmost luxuriance
in the neighbouring isles, is not to be found here j but
they are extremely fond of it j and whenever a nut
was left in their way by the settlers, it was immediately
carried off with much apparent satisfaction.
There are several sorts of trees on the island ; among
which are, the ficus religiosa or banyan tree, the al¬
mond tree, and the oil tree ; which latter grows to a
great height, and from it a very useful oil is thus pro¬
duced A horizontal incision being made in the
trunk, six or eight inches deep, a chip fourteen or fif¬
teen inches long is cut at right angles, and the surface
ol the incision being hollowed and filled with live coals,
the turpentine, or wood oil, exudes copiously from the
top of the wound. The peniagre tree is also found,
and is well adapted for the knees of ships; and the
iron tree, of stupendous size, whose timber almost bids
defiance to the axe of the wood-cutter ; the red wood,
which makes beautiful furniture, little inferior to fine
mahogany. Besides these, there are numberless creepers
and rattans which surround the stems of the larger trees,
and, interwoven with each other, form so thick a hedge,
that it is impossible to penetrate far into the forests, but
by the slow and laborious process of cutting a road.
It is a sort of historical mystery how a race of ne¬
groes should be found here, a people so widely differ¬
ing, not only from all the inhabitants of that vast con¬
tinent in which the island of Andaman is embayed,
but also from the natives of the Nicobar islands, which
are immediately contiguous to it. Some have suppo¬
sed, that a Portuguese vessel, early in the sixteenth
century, laden with slaves from Africa, may have been
cast on these shores, and that the present Andamaners
are the descendants of such as escaped drowning. This
conjecture, however, is proved to be erroneous, from an
account of the Andamaners given by two Mahometan
travellers, long before the navigation of those seas by
Europeans. But an accident similar to that now sug¬
gested may possibly, at some period or other, have oc¬
curred to an Arabian vessel, as that people are known
to have sailed upon the Indian ocean as early as the
seventh century ; and they not only explored the conti¬
nent of India as far as the Chinese sea, but likewise
gained a knowledge of most of the Eastern islands.
Returning from these islands to the province called
Chittagong, which forms the extremity on the east of
the British East India Company’s possessions, as well
as the boundary in that quarter of the territory of Hin-
doostan, we enter upon the farther or eastern peninsula
5 A 2 of
A S I [ 740 ] A S I
Asia. of India. From Cliittagoncr, proceeding southward
' v along the eastern shores, the coast is fertile and rich for
A rscan a consi^era^e distance vvitliin land, forming the an¬
cient kingdom of Aracan. Parallel to the coast runs
a chain of lofty and precipitous mountains, forming
the boundary of Aracan to the eastward. Beyond
these mountains eastward is a level and fertile country,
containing rivers which, descending from the regions
of High Tartary already mentioned, descend south-
ward along the peninsula, fertilizing the soil by their
periodical floods, and forming at their mouths a great
extent of low and fertile territory, or delta land. The
country to the south-east of Aracan is called Pegu;
that to the east has long been called Ava by Europe¬
ans, from the name of the former capital, but is called
Si by the people of the country Birmah, and the people
Birmah. themselves Birmans. This last people, the Birmans,
have recently subdued both of the kingdoms called
Pegu and Aracan, and form at the present period a
rising empire of great importance in the east, and well
deserving our attention. Though their territories are
only divided from those of the British East India Com¬
pany by a narrow chain of mountains, and at one place
by a trifling river called the Naaf, yet it was only very
lately that they were at all known to the Europeans in
that quarter as a neighbouring power of any considera¬
tion, our connexion with them having formerly been
merely in the way of commerce carried on from their
southern ports, near the mouth of the bay of Bengal.
The following circumstance gave rise to farther inquiries
concerning them :—The trade of Aracan had suffered
by the attacks of some robbers, or pirates, who infested
the rivers near the coast. They conveyed their plunder
across the river Naaf into the Chittagong province,
where, being secured from pursuit under the protection
of the British flag, they disposed of their spoils to ad¬
vantage, and lived at ease till returning want impelled
them to resume their predatory excursions. On its
being ascertained that three of the most distinguished of
the robbers had sought refuge in the British districts,
the king or emperor of the Birmans sent one of his offi¬
cers into the East India Company’s territories at the
head of 5000 men, with injunctions to the commander
to bring with him the delinquents, dead or alive, and
not to return without them. To support this detachment,
g2 an army of 20,000 men was held in readiness at Aracan.
Birman ar- Senee Nunda Kiozo, the Birman chief, having cros-
my enters sed the river Naaf, and encamped within the Company’s
the British territory on the western bank, sent a letter to the Bri-
Imlia01^*11 t*s^1 mag'strate °f Chittagong, acquainting him of the
reasons for the inroad ; that the seizure of the delin¬
quents was his sole object, without harbouring any de¬
sign of hostility against the English. At the same time
he declared, that, till the delinquents were given up,
he would not depart from the Company’s territory. In
confirmation of this threat, he fortified his camp with a
stockade. These matters being reported to the British
government at Calcutta, the refugees were ordered to
be apprehended and kept in custody ; and, in the mean
time, detachments of Europeans, and of Indian troops
in their service, called Sepoys, with proper artillery,
were sent to the spot under Major General Erskine.
On the approach of General Erskine, the Birman ge¬
neral sent a flag of. truce to propose terms of accom¬
modation, stipulating for the surrender of the fugitive
pirates as the basis of the agreement. It was replied, —
that no proposal could be listened to while, the Birmans
continued on the British territory; that, unless they
departed from it in a limited time, force would be used j
but that, it they would withdraw peaceably, the subject
of their complaints would be discussed. On receiving
this answer, the Birman chief, with a manly confidence
in the character of his antagonists, which commanded
respect, personally waited on General Erskine, and
stated the nature of his instruction, the enormity of the
offenders, and the outrages they had committed. Ge¬
neral Erskine assured him that the British government
had no desire to afford an asylum to robbers ; that it
had no objection to do justice ; but insisted, that in the
first instance, the Birmans ought to retire peaceably
from the British territory. The Birman general, in
consequence of these assurances, professed his reliance on
General Erskine, and agreed to withdraw his troops.
The retreat was conducted in the most orderly manner 5
and so strict was the discipline of the Birman army, that
not one irregular act was committed while they remained
within the Company’s territory. The charges against
the refugees were afterwards investigated, and their guilt
being clearly established, they were delivered over to
their own laws, by whose sentence two out of the three
underwent capital punishment.
This event called the attention of the British go¬
vernment in India towards the Birmans, a people evi¬
dently of a superior character to the Hindoos, whose
territory was in their vicinity, and with whom, by
their southern ports, a very extensive commerce had
within a few years sprung up j which, in the single ar¬
ticle of teek-wood, already required an annual return of
Indian commodities to the amount of 200,000!. ster¬
ling. It therefore appeared a matter of importance to
enter into something in the nature of a commercial
treaty with this power, at least to the effect of obtain¬
ing regular protection for our merchants when visiting
their ports. With this view, and to obtain farther in¬
telligence concerning the nature of the government, the
character of the people, and the advantages to be deri¬
ved from intercourse with them, the governor-general
of Bengal, Sir John Shore, sent by sea to the principal
Birman port a regular embassy j at the head of which
was Michael Symes, Esq. then a captain in the British British era-
army. From the information obtained and published^assyto the
in consequence of this embassy, the following account ®1.^nan'•
of the Bi rmans and their empire is extracted. S1 mes't
As already noticed, the Birman empire extends ijnhcnsy.
along the western coast of the eastern peninsula of In¬
dia, or forms the eastern side of the bay of Bengal.
It approaches the frontier of China on the north-east,
and is limited on the north by the rugged and moun¬
tainous country which forms the south-eastern front of
the high region of Tartary, being a continuation to
this quarter of the great chain of Imaus. From the
foot of that elevated region, this, like the western pe¬
ninsula of India, descends gradually to the south, and
the rivers proceed in that direction till the largest of
them terminate near Cape Negrais in the south-eastern
quarter of the bay of Bengal, where the coast turns
suddenly eastward to a considerable distance $ after
which it proceeds as formerly to the south. The prin¬
cipal
Asia.
84
History of
the Bir¬
mans.
A S I [
cipal towns of the Birman empire stand upon the ri-
85
Alompra
flrst of the
present
dynasty.
86
Alonipra’s
rebellion.
and the British embassy sailed up the chief river,
the Irrawaddy or Erabatty, to a great distance, till they
reached Ummerapoora, the present capital of the Bir¬
man dominions.
The Birmans and the people of Pegu have long
been rival states. The Birmans, though formerly sub¬
ject to the king of Pegu, revolted about the middle of
the sixteenth century, and appear to have acquired a
superiority over the Peguers which continued down
to about the year 1740. At that period a war took
place, which was prosecuted on both sides with savage
ferocity j but as the Peguers, living to the south¬
ward near the mouth of the navigable rivers already
mentioned, had a considerable intercourse with Euro¬
pean traders, from whom they could purchase better
arms than are manufactured in the east, they gradu¬
ally obtained a superiority, and gained several victories
over the Birmans in the years 1750 and 175T. These
advantages were so vigorously prosecuted, that in the
year 1752 the Birman capital Ava was invested. The
Birmans, dispirited by repeated defeats, and probably
ill commanded, after a short siege Diveepdee,. the last
of a long line of kings, was made prisoner with all
his family, except two sons who escaped to Siam.
Beinga Della, king of Pegu, left his brother Apporaza
as governor of Ava, and carried to Pegu the captive
Birman king. Thus a complete conquest appeared to
be effected. The landholders and principal inhabitants
of the country round Ava submitted, and took an oath
of allegiance to the king of Pegu, who in an insolent
proclamation, announced the annexation of the Bir¬
man country to the Pegu monarchy. In the mean time,
a Birman of low extraction, Alompra, aspired to be¬
come the deliverer of his country. He had submitted
like the rest, and was continued by the conqueror in
the command of an inconsiderable village, Moncha-
boo. Here he had no more than 100 devoted follow¬
ers, upon whose intrepidity and fidelity he could rely.
This village, like most of the Birman towns, was sur¬
rounded by a stockade. This he strengthened and re¬
paired, without awakening any suspicion in the Pegu
conquerors, who never suspected that so inconsiderable
a person would attempt a rebellion. In Alompra’s vil¬
lage of Monchaboo there were no more than 50 Pegu
soldiers, who treated the Birmans with great arrogance :
Taking advantage of the indignation excited by some
particular act of indignity, Alompra encouraged his
followers to attack the Pegu soldiers, and he put every
one of them to the sword. Even after this act of re¬
bellion, Alompra disguised his intention with a view
to gain time. He wrote to the brother of the Pegu
king Apporaza, who had been left governor of Ava,
expressing much humility and regret for what had
happened, professing his fidelity to the Pegu govern¬
ment, and representing the massacre as the result of an
accidental quarrel between the Pegu soldiers and the
people of his village. These assurances prevented vi¬
gorous measures from being taken with sufficient speed
against him. Apporaza, having pressing bussiness at
Pegu, left Ava under the government of his nephew
Dotachew, with instructions to keep Alompra as a pri¬
soner. Accordingly about a thousand men were sent
to occupy Alompra’s turbulent village, and to send
himself to Ava,. They expected no opposition, and
741 ] A S I
came ill prepared for it. They were not a little dis¬
concerted to find the gates of the stockade around the
village shut against them on their arrival, which was
late in the evening j and at daybreak next morning
they were suddenly attacked and routed by the Bir¬
mans. Alompra, having thus involved a small party
of his countrymen in rebellion against their conquerors,
represented to them that there no longer existed for
them any safety but in victory ; that they would never
be forgiven, and must resolve to conquer or perish. He
invited the Birmans of the neighbouring towns to join
his standard, and he found a small number who were
willing to embrace his apparently desperate fortunes :
with these he adopted the sudden resolution of march¬
ing towards Ava the Birman capital, before the nume¬
rous detachments of Peguers that were scattered over
the provinces could be recalled for its defence. As
he advanced, fame magnified his numbers. The gover¬
nor of Ava, who had no more than 3000 men, was
disconcerted ; and, despairing of success, deserted that
city with his troops, and a few of his countrymen
A sia.
remained behind him were put to death by the
populace. Instead of advancing in person, Alompra Alompra’s
now sent his second son Shembuan to take possession ofsucccss.
Ava. These events occurred in autumn 1753. Inconse¬
quence of his first success Alompra’s reputation became
unbounded. His countrymen everywhere revolted, and
attached themselves to him as their deliverer. The Pe¬
gu king was alarmed for the northern districts of his own
territory, in which the Birman population exceeded that
of the Peguers. A large force was collected under Ap¬
poraza the Pegu king’s brother. It consisted of an ar¬
my, and of a numerous fleet of war boats, which sailed
up the Irrawaddy to reduce the insurgents. He laid
siege to Ava, where Shembuan held out 40 days, till his
father Alompra advanced to his aid. Apporaza raised
the siege, and went to encounter Alompra. The contest
was chiefly confined to the fleet j the armies only skir¬
mishing on shore. Shembuan having advanced from the
fort of Ava to attack the rear of the Peguers, they gave
way and fled with precipitation, suffering great slaugh¬
ter in their retreat. The Peguers, enraged by these
misfortunes, put to death the dethroned monarch of the
Birmans, together with all the principal men of his na¬
tion, to the amount of several hundreds, that were in
their power, under pretence that they had been detect¬
ed in a plot against their conquerors. This only render¬
ed the mutual hatred of the nations more violent ; and
in several towns the Birmans rose upon the Pegu garri¬
sons, and massacred the whole of them. 8g
In the mean time Alompra continued to improve Alompra
his fortune, and avowedly endeavoured to establish in aspires to
his own person the sovereignty of his country. When roya'tJ“
the son of the late king attempted to return, he drove
him back to his asylum among the Siamese. Towards
the end of the year 1754 the Pegu king Beinga Della,
with a considerable army, laid siege to Prome, a fron¬
tier town defended by a solid wall, a deep ditch, and
a strong stockade. The Birmans successfully resisted
a general assault, and the Peguers had recourse to a
blockade. Alompra sent 36 war boats to the assistance
of the town, which stands upon a river j the com¬
mander of these threw himself with a considerable sup¬
ply of men and provisions into the town, and sent
back his boats, only a few of which were taken. After
A S I
a farther delay oi six weeks, Alompra arrived in person
and attacked the Peguers both by land and water. In¬
stead of keeping up a fire of musquetry as usual, the
boats ciosed, and after a desperate engagement, the
Peguers abandoned the siege. The tide of success was
now so completely turned, that the war was become
defensive on the part of the king of Pegu. Pie retired
to his capital, which being near the sea-coast, the con¬
test became a kind of maritime warfare in the mouths
and creeks of the rivers ; which last are extremely nu¬
merous in the low delta land near their mouth. At
this time both the Prench and Pnglish were in possession
of factories in the Pegu country, and both the Pe¬
guers and Birmans solicited the assistance of the stran¬
gers, being abundantly sensible that a few ships of bur¬
den furnished with guns would give a vast advantage
to either party, in a contest against the war boats used
in their country. In the course of the year 1755 both
the French and English appear to have entered secretly
into separate negociations with each of the parties, and
to have promised aid to each of them. Both of them
ultimately broke faith with Alompra, and joined the
people of Pegu. Notwithstanding this assistance, the
Birman leader continued to enjoy a career of success,
lie was victorious on land, and the aid of the foreigners
by water only produced a slight degree of embarass-
nient. At one time three English ships and one
I rench ship assisted the Pegu force, consisting of 200
armed boats, while 10,000 men marched along with
them as a land force $ but the Birmans disconcerted
the attack by' a stratagem. With considerable ingenui¬
ty they constructed fire-rafts, consisting of a number of
boats fastened together, and filled wuth combustibles.
These rafts were floated with a strong spring tide to
where the European ships lay at anchor, and directed
with such skill and eflect as to oblige them to slip
their cables and remove, the French ship narrowly
escaping destruction. Alompra at last succeeded in
cutting oft the communication between Pegu and
the sea. A I rench ship coming to the assistance of
the Peguers was taken by surprise $ and as her papers
proved the object of her voyage, her officers wrere put
to death by the order of Alompra : other foreigners,
however, particularly the English, taken in the impor¬
tant Pegu town of Syriam, were suffered to depart un¬
molested, though he had sufficient reason to complain
of their countrymen. Alompra was at last, in conse¬
quence of his success in every quarter, enabled to lay
siege to Pegu itself, the capital of his enemies. It was
situated on an extensive plain, surrounded with a high
solid wall, flanked by small towers, and strengthened
on each face by demibastions equidistant. A broad
ditch contained about three feet depth of water, and
the pagoda of Shoemadoo, which will be afterwards
described, served as a citadel. Circumvallation is a
favourite mode of warfare with the Birmans, as they are
almost destitute of cannon, and therefore trust rather
to famine than to force. Having invested Pegu, and
erected numerous stockades both to hem in the town,
and to secure firs own army against external attack*
Alompra, in the month of January 1757, resolved to
wait patiently till the want of supplies should bring the
city into his power. After a siege of two months the
numerous population of Pegu became mutinous in con-
ssequence of want. The king summoned a council of
r 742 ]
A S I
his family and chiefs, and proposed to sue for peace, on Asia,
condition of being allowed to govern his country, con- y—f
Renting to do homage for it to the Birman monarch.
I Ire proposal was accepted by Alompra j but, as a pre¬
liminary, the Pegu king was under the necessity of sur¬
rendering to the conqueror his only unmarried daugh¬
ter. lor some days the peace seemed restored, and
the besiegers and the besieged mingled with each other
in amity j but Alompra, probably with a treacherous
intention, having introduced some soldiers in disguise
into the town, they were seized and put to death by
order of the king of Pegu’s nephew Choupavea. Ho¬
stilities recommenced, and at last the king of Pegu,
who appears to have been a timid man, privately ad- c
mitted the Birmans into the city, on condition that penU ta-
his own life should be spared $ the town itself was de-ken.
livered up to plunder.
Alompra, thus successful, extended his power over
several surrounding provinces, and rendered Moncha-
boo, his original residence, the seat of imperial go¬
vernment. While upon an expedition to Cassay, a
northern province of his empire, the Peguers revolted,
but weie defeated on his return. On this occasion he
was led to suspect, that the persons belonging to a Bri¬
tish settlement at the island of Negrais, had given as¬
sistance to the revolters : They were suddenly attack- Ma«?a°cre
ed, therefore, by his orders, in October 1759, and of the Bri-
most of them destroyed. A few escaped in two ves- tish.
sels, the Shaitesbury and the \ ictona. Alompra next
made war upon his neighbours on the east, the Siamese, w pr.
accusing them of assisting his enemies of Pegu, and of Siam,
raising conspiracies against his authority. He under¬
took an expedition against the capital of Siam j th&
enemy harassed his march, but did not hazard a deci¬
sive engagement. In a month he reached the vicinity
of the metropolis, which prepared to sustain a siege;
but here the career of Alompra terminated. He was
taken ill of a mortal disease, said to be a species of
scrophula. He foresaw his end, and gave orders for ^
an immediate attack; but he died on the 15th of May Death of
1760, before he reached his capital. He was deeply Aloropra*
regretted by his people, who admired his talents and
his success, and regarded him as their deliverer from a
foreign yoke. He is represented as having performed
no less service to his country by the laws which he
enacted, than by the battles W'hich he fought. In par¬
ticular, he reformed the administration of justice, pro¬
hibited magistrates to sit in judgment, unless in a pub¬
lic place, and required every decree to be registered.
He also issued edicts against gaming, and the use of
spirituous liquors, in his dominions.
T he Birman law vests the right of succession in the
eldest heir male; but, upon the death of Alompra,
his second son, Shemhuan, made an attempt to seduce
the army and to seize the throne. Receiving little A^[on^pra
support, he submitted to his eldest brother, Namdogee succeeded
I raw, who, at the request of their common mother, by his eldes
received him into favour. One of Alompra’s generals,son
called Nuttoon, was a more dangerous rival. A divi-p°^e
sion of the army under his command seized upon the
city of Ava. He expected succours from Siam, but
was disappointed; and being besieged in Ava, he was
reduced to great distress. He tried to make his escape;
but was taken and put to death with most of his adhe¬
rents. The destruction of Nuttoon did not put an end
to
A S I
94
Shembuan
obtains 1
throne.
95
Invades
Siam.
96
The Chi
Asia. to the disturbances that agitated the Birman empire.
“"'v" 1' ’ A younger brother ot Alompra, who held a consider¬
able government, aspired to independence ; but he also
was taken in his fortress, after a siege of three months.
His life was spared, but he was kept a close prisoner.
Namdogee Praw died at his capital in March 1764,
of the same disease that brought his father to the grave,
leaving one son, Momien, an infant. Shembuan, the
throne8.1 ^ se>contl son of Alompra, now seized the government as
king j and the child of his elder brother was educated
in religious obscurity, as a rhahan or priest. Shem-
buan’s first undertaking was a war against the Siamese,
whose country, in the year 1766, he entered at differ¬
ent points with three armies ; which, after some resist¬
ance, effected a junction. Having approached the ca¬
pital, a general battle was fought, in which the
Birmans were successful, and invested the capital of
Siam, Each party had some artillery, which was of
little service 5 and the Birmans had recourse to block¬
ade, which, as already noticed, is their favourite sy¬
stem of warfare. After a turn months siege, the king
of Siam secretly made his escape. The city capitu¬
lated, and a Siamese governor was appointed, who
swore allegiance, and engaged to pay tribute to the
Birman monarch.
  . I” ^ie beginning of the year 1767, a Chinese army
uese invade invaded the Birman empire. Shembuan prepared to
Biimali. meet this danger ; and it appears that, in consequence
of the numerous wars in which they had recently been
engaged, the Birmans were enabled to act upon this oc¬
casion with a considerable degree of military skill and
energy. I hey formed two separate armies, one con¬
sisting of 10,000 infantry and 2000 cavalry, was sent
to meet the invaders. They accordingly advanced,
and encamped within eight miles of the Chinese army.
On the following day, an action took place, in which
the Birmans were worsted and retired. The Chinese,
elated by their success, pressed eagerly forward, and
were in this manner drawn to a considerable distance
into the country. In the mean time, a second Bir¬
man army, amounting to 30,000 men, had taken a
circuitous road, and got into the rear of the Chinese.
rI he army in front now made a stand, and the inva¬
ders found themselves hemmed in on all sides. The
Tartar cavalry, on whose activity the Chinese army
depended for provisions, would no longer venture out
either to procure supplies or to protect convoys. The
Birmans now attacked their enemy with impetuosity,
who resisted with a resolution founded on despair. The
conflict lasted three days, and the Chinese at last at¬
tempted to cut their way through the weakest part of
the Birman line. This attempt proved fatal. The
Birmans, sure of being reinforced, maintained their
ground till the troops of both their armies arrived to
their assistance. Ihe Chinese now sunk under the
pressure of an attack from numbers which were in¬
creasing every hour. The carnage was dreadful, as
the Birmans are extremely ferocious and unrelenting
in war. Of the Chinese army not a man returned to
his native country. About 2500 were preserved from
the sword and conducted to the Birman capital, where
they were employed in such occupations as they under¬
stood, without any other reward for their labour than a
bare subsistence.
Meanwhile, Shembuan’s successes against the Sia¬
[ 743 ]
A S I
Asia.
mese were attended with no permanent advantage. His
armies were no sooner recalled than his authority was
openly disregarded. He sent one of his generals once
more into their country 5 but he met with such opposi¬
tion as compelled him to retreat and to demand rein¬
forcements. This last request was complied with, in
a manner that produced a serious danger. One of the
viceroys of the southern parts of the empire was com¬
manded to raise the necessary supplies ; but as his ju¬
risdiction was inhabited chiefly by families of Peguers,
he had no sooner assembled his recruits and placed
arms in their hands, than they became conscious of
their own strength, and were seized with a desire to
regain their empire. They rose upon their Birman
officers and companions, and commenced an indiscri¬
minate slaughter. It was not till after an army of
20,000 men was assembled, with 24 pieces of cannon,
besides a great number of war boats, that they could
be subdued. While this struggle was going on in the
lower part of the empire against the people of Pegu,
now considered as rebels, Shembuan followed out a
plan of conquest to the north-west, in the country call¬
ed Cassciy. His troops even penetrated within what
are called the Himmaleh hills, which form a continua¬
tion of the lofty Imaus, and which descending towards
the extremity of the bay of Bengal, seem to be a bar¬
rier raised by nature to protect the unwarlike inhabi¬
tants of Hindoostan from the more hardy natives of
the east. Shembuan lost a great number of troops in
attacking the chiefs or rajahs of these hilly countries,
but at last succeeded in subduing a great number of
them, though the conquest could be of little utility,
as possession of these rude territories could scarcely be
retained.
On his return from this north-western expedition.
Shembuan went southward to visit his Pegu territories, Old king of
which had so recently been involved in civil war. On Pegu put to
this occasion he pretended to discover that the old king^eat^‘
of Pegu, who had been taken by Alompra, and had
remained all this while in prison, had engaged in some
kind of conspiracy. In consequence of an accusation
to this effect, the dethroned monarch underwent the
form of a trial, was condemned and put to death.
Many persons of rank, of the race of the Peguers,
were also put to death on this occasion, under pre¬
tence that they had given countenance or aid to the late
rebellion. ^
These were among the last transactions of Sliem-Death of
buan’s life. He died in the city of Ava, about the Shembuan.
middle of spring, in the year 1776. He was succeed¬
ed by his son Chenguza, who appears in every respect QjjCr^lz,
to have been incapable of exercising dominion with succeeds to
any tolerable degree of propriety. He degraded his the throne,
father’s most respectable officers, and plunged into the
most shameful debauchery, which he avowed openly by
repealing the edict against the use of spirituous liquors.
He put to death a younger brother, from jealousy of
his ambition, employed himself wholly in hunting, and
left public affairs to be managed by favourites. He
also put to death one of his uncles, kept another of
them close prisoner, and watched vigilantly a third of
them, who affected to live in the most inoffensive
obscurity. In a fit-of jealousy he also put to death his
wife in a public and open manner, and having at last
rendered himself both odious and terrible, a conspiracy
A S I
[ 744 ]
A S I
IOO
Mindera-
gee suc¬
ceeds to the
Asia. 'vas formed against him, at the head of which was his
—v uncle Minderagee Praw, the result of which was, that
the latter obtained possession of the throne, and Chen-
guza, deserted by all the world, was killed by the fa¬
ther of the wife whom he had put to death, though
the slayer was afterwards also put to death, under pre¬
tence of having shed royal blood contrary to the ex¬
press letter of the law of the Birmans.
Shembuan Mia Shean Minderagee Praw, the fourth
son of the deceased Alompra, thus succeeded to the
throne possession of the empire. In the first days of the con¬
spiracy, a pretence had been made that the object of
it was to raise to the throne Momien, the only child
of Namdogee Praw the eldest son of Alompra ; but
this pretence was speedily laid aside, and in eleven days
after his accession to the throne, he was put to death.
Minder^gee Praw, notwithstanding the manner in which
he obtained the sovereignty, is understood to have go¬
verned well, and he was upon the throne when the
British envoy, Captain Symes visited that country.
While he led a private life, however, this monarch is
represented as having imbibed much of the superstition
that so strongly characterizes every form of religion in
the east. During his days of leisure he had directed
much of his attention to astronomy, and became a
thorough believer in judicial astrology. Some few
Brahmins had for ages been accustomed to emigrate
from Cassay and Aracan, to Ava, where, on account
of their superior knowledge, they were employed as
professors of science. A college w^as established and
lands appropriated for its support. These Brahmin doc¬
tors composed almanacks, calculating eclipses j and from
their intercourse with the planets, pronounced the pro¬
pitious hour and season to attempt any momentous un¬
dertaking. Long before his elevation, these Brahmins
had foretold to Minderagee Praw the fortune that a-
waited him. The accomplishment of their prophecy
Confirmed their influence over him. He appointed a
certain number to be his chaplains, who, on court days,
arrayed in white robes and standing round the throne,
chaunt a solemn benediction in melodious recitative.
. Th is ceremony is performed as soon as the king ascends
the imperial seat, and before the commencement of
public business. Prompted by the persuasions of his
counsellors, Minderagee resolved to withdraw the seat
101 °f government from Ava, and to found a new city.
New capi- The site fixed on for the projected settlement was judi-
tal Umme- cious : about four miles north-east of Ava, there is a
lapooia deep and extensive lake called Toy«g-ew?o/???, formed by
the influx of the river during the monsoon, through a
narrow' channel, which afterwards expands and displays
a body of water a mile and a half broad, and seven or
eight miles long. This lake first takes a northerly di¬
rection, nearly parallel with the river j it afterwards
curves to the south-east, in a lessening sheet, and di¬
minishes to a morass favourable to the culture of rice.
When filled by the periodical rains, the lake with the
river on one side, encloses a dry and healthy peninsula,
on which Ummerapoora, the name given to the new city,
now stands. Buildings in the Birman country are com¬
posed for the most part of wood •, and water carriage
being here convenient, the old town was speedily de¬
molished, and the present capital rose from its mate¬
rials ; whilst such was the assiduity used in removal,
that Ummerapoora became, in a short time, one of the
most flourishing and well built cities of the east. The Aria*
fort likewise, which is spacious and regular, is com- v—y—
pletely fortified after the Asiatic manner. A lofty
rampart, protected by a parapet, and strengthened by
bastions composed of excellent masonry, is further se¬
cured by a deep and broad ditch, faced with brick and
filled with water: the gateways are guarded by cannon*
and retrenchments defend the passes of the ditch. The I02
new monarch soon resolved to extend his dominions Invasion
westward, by the conquest of Aracan. This country, and oon-
as already mentioned, is situated to the westward of^®®1^
Ava, along the shore of the bay of Bengal, but the
direct road is embarrassed by a chain of mountains 56
miles in breadth. The road is so difficult that an en¬
terprising people might easily have defended the passes
against any superiority of number \ but the Birman
king knew too well the indolent character of the king
of Aracan, and the unwarlike disposition of his subjects,
to dread any vigorous opposition. This country, how¬
ever, had never been completely conquered : the Mo¬
guls on the west, the Peguers on the east, and the
Portuguese from Europe, had at diflerent times carried
their arms into the heart of the country, but after these
passing inroads Aracan had always recovered its inde¬
pendence. The difficulty of conquest, on the present
occasion, consisted chiefly of finding a way into a
country so well defended by nature. The range of
lofty mountains, already mentioned, nearly encircles it
on the east. From the southern quarter at Negrais,
Aracan could only be invaded by water, through the
many rivers that intersect the country adjacent to the
sea. From the side of Chittagong, entry into Ara¬
can must be effected by a march along the sea beach,
which is interrupted by several channels, that owe
their waters chiefly to the action of the tide. The
coast, however, is extremely well adapted to commerce,
by the various large and well cultivated islands which
it possesses, and the variety of channels by which ves¬
sels can pass into the country, which to the mountains
is everywhere low and well watered. The trade of
Aracan has not indeed been very considerable. It is
confined to salt, bees wax, elephants teeth, and rice.
This latter article is produced in such abundance, that
it might be improved into a lucrative branch of com¬
merce. Possession of Aracan and its islands is not on¬
ly coveted by the Birmans, on account of the fertility
of the soil, but also from the protection it might af¬
ford to their boats, which navigating along the coast
make an annual voyage to Chittagong and Calcutta,
where they dispose of the produce of their country,
and in return bring back cloth and the commodities of
India.
In the year 1783, the Birmans accomplished their
intended invasion, by attacking Aracan in different de¬
tachments, a part of which crossed the mountains, while
others went round by water. After a naval engage¬
ment, which terminated in favour of the invaders, the
king of Aracan took flight with his family} but being
closely pursued, he was taken prisoner, and conducted
to the Birman capital, where he was treated with hu¬
manity, but died in the course of a year. The town
and port of Aracan fell after a faint resistance. The
booty found in it was considerable, but on nothing was
a higher value placed, than on an image of burnished
brass of the god of the Birmans, called Gaudma, or
Boodh,
103
Aracan
now a Bir-constituted a province of the Birman
viucV'1 gover,,e^ by a maywoon or viceroy.
are distributed in the different towns, and
A'oa. Booclh, or Budhoo. The figure is about 10 feet high
—tfi the customary sitting posture, with the legs crossed,
tiie left hand re-ting on the lap and the right pendent.
Ibis image is believed to he an original resemblance,
taken from life, and is so highly venerated, that pil¬
grims have for centuries come from the remotest coun¬
tries, even Ceylon, China, and Japan, where the su¬
premacy of Gaudma is acknowledged, to pay their de¬
votions at the feet of his brazen representative. There
were also found five images of Rakuss, the daemon of
the Hindoos, of the same metal and stature. These
were valued as guardians of the sanctity of the idol.
A singular piece of ordnance was also found of enor¬
mous dimensions, composed of huge bars of iron beat¬
en into form. Ibis ponderous cannon measured 30 feet
in length, two feet and a half in diameter at the mouth,
and 10 inches in the calibre *, it was transported to
Ummerapoora by water, and deposited in the yard of
the royal palace, where it is now preserved as a mili¬
tary trophy $ it is tmi nted on a low carriage supported
by six wheels, and is covered from the weather by a
wooden pent-house. Gaudma and his infernal guards
were, in like manner, conveyed by water to-the capi¬
tal, with much pomp and superstitious parade.
Since this period Aracan, with its dependencies, has
empire, ai d is
Birman troops
lands were
granted to many Birmans, on condition that they should
come with their families and settle in the country. The
valuable acquisition of Aracan did not satisfy the am¬
bition of Minderagee Praw, and he speedily turned
his arms against the Siamese, his neighbours on the
south-east. From the year 1785 to 1793, he carried
on against them a very sanguinary war, in which he
suffered a considerable number of defeats, though the
Siamese could make no progress against him upon his
own territory. At length the Siamese proposed a ne-
gociation, which terminated in a treaty of peace, very
favourable to the Birman interests, as the Siamese con¬
sented to relinquish to them a considerable extent of
territory to the southward, on the western side of the
peninsula.
Extent of resu't ab these acquisitions is, that the Bir-
*he Birmanman empire upon the whole, at present, appears to
empire. include the space between 90 and 26° N. Lat. and
between 920 and 107° E. Long, from Greenwich, or
about 1050 geographical miles in length, and 600 in
breadth. These are stated as the ascertainable limits
taken from the Birman accounts, though it is thought
that their territories stretch still farther to the north j
but it must he remarked, that in the southern parts the
breadth often varies, and is in many places very inconsi¬
derable. On the whole, however, they possess a ter¬
ritory superior in extent to the German empire. But
their perpetual wars, especially their sanguinary con¬
tests with Pegu and Siam, have greatly depopulated
their country: and here, as in every other part of the
world, it has been found, that war, while it ruins the
vanquished, is seldom the source of internal prosperity
to the victorious nation. From what can be discover¬
ed, there is no reason to believe that their present po¬
pulation, including Aracan, exceeds 17,000,000. Yet
the soil of the southern provinces of the Birman em¬
pire is remarkably fertile, and produces as luxuriant
Vol. II. Part II. f
[ 745 ]
A S I
crops of rice as are to be found in the finest parts of
Bengal ; hut extensive plains, on which the vestiges of-—v '
former culture and population are abundant, remain
without a single house or inhabitant, having been de¬
solated by the ravages of war, during the contests of the
Birmans and Peguers, so that the finest territories in
the world have in many places of this empire become,
lor a time at least, the undisputed domain of the wild
beasts of the forest. In the northern parts of the em¬
pire, the country, becomes irregular and mountainous ;
but the plains and valleys, particularly near the rivers,
are exceedingly fruitful. They yield good wheat, and
the various kinds of small grain which grow in warm
climates, with the different sorts of esculent vegeta¬
bles : sugar canes, tobacco of superior quality, indigo,
cotton, and the different tropical fruits in perfection,
are all natural products of this favoured land.
The climate of every part of the Birman empire is Climate,
said to testify its own salubrity by the best of all cri-
terions, the appearance and figure of the natives, who
appear equal in strength and activity to any other race
of men in the world. The seasons are regular, and
the extremes of heat and cold are seldom experienced ;
at least the duration of that intense heat, which imme¬
diately precedes the commencement of the rainy season,
is so short, that it incommodes but for a veiy little time.
During the residence of the British embassy in the coun¬
try, only one man was lost by disease. Another met an
accidental death : in wandering through the woods he
became the prey of a tiger. Io6
One of the most valuable productions of this empireTeck wood,
is the teek tree, which grows in vast abundance in the
southern parts of the empire, near the great rivers.
This article alone renders a free commerce with the
Birmans of vast importance to the British settlements
in India. Teek wood, so absolutely necessary for the
navigation of the eastern seas, cannot be conveyed from
the Malabar to the Coromandel coast of the western
peninsula of India, or to Calcutta, hut at an expence so
great as to preclude the attempt. This wood grows
indeed on the banks of the river Godaverry, but the
impediments to procuring it from that quarter have
hitherto been found insurmountable. Hence a great
part of British India depends for ship-timber upon the
Birman empire. Most other descriptions of timber
are also found in this empire ; on the banks of the
river Irravady a large log of fir was seen by Doctor
Buchanan, one of the gentlemen belonging to the em¬
bassy. He was informed by the natives that it had
been washed down by the torrents from a mountainous
part of the country northward of the capital, where it
grows in abundance and of considerable magnitude.
It is called tcenys. The turpentine is extracted from
it, and turned to use, but the wood is considered as of
little value on account of its softness. It will probably
hereafter be brought to market in India, as top-gallant-
masts and yards made of teek are thought too heavy,
and European and American spars are often bought
for these purposes at a very exorbitant price. 107
On account of the depopulation of various parts of Animals,
the country by war, the wild animals have multiplied
to a great extent. The most troublesome of these are
tigers, which infest all the forests, and what are called
jungles or woody thickets near the banks of torrents, so
as to render it dangerous to enter them : wild elephants
5 B also
A • S I [ 746 ] A S I
! ^13- abound, and occupy the forests in great numbers.
These powerful animals, allured by the early crops of
rice and sugar cane, make predatory excursions in large
troops, and do much mischief, destroying more than
they devour. The peasantry have often to lament the
destruction of their most exposed plantations in conse¬
quence of these inroads. Herds of deer are frequently
seen, and horses and cattle are reared in abundance by
the people. They have also large herds of buffaloes,
which have a powerful antipathy to a red or scarlet co¬
lour, and are so extremely fierce, that the tigers dare
not attack them.
The two peninsulas of India are the native countries
of the peacock, and also of our barn-door fowl 5 the lat¬
ter abound in the jungles or thickets, and are well known
to sportsmen in India. They differ little from the barn¬
door fowl in Europe, except that the wild sort are all
similar in colour ; a dark red, with black breast and
108 ' ^ie‘r very delicate.
Minerals. ^ie Birman empire abounds in minerals. Near the
frontiers of China they have mines of gold and silver}
there are also mines of gold, silver, rubies, and sapphires,
at present open on a mountain near the river Keenduemj}
but the most valuable, and those which produce the
finest jewels, are in the vicinity o*f the capital. Precious
stones are found in several other parts of the empire.
The inferior minerals, such as contain iron, tin, lead,
antimony, arsenic, sulphur, &c. are met with in great
abundance 5 amber, of a consistence unusually pure and
pellucid, is dug up in large quantities near the principal
river. Gold likewise is discovered in the sandy beds of
streams which descend from the mountains } diamonds
and emeralds are not found in any part of the Birman
empire, but it affords amethysts, garnets, very beautiful
chrysolites, jasper, loadstone, and marble. This’last is
equal in quality to the finest marble of Italy, and ad¬
mits of a polish that renders it almost transparent } but
it is not allowed to be sold in its rude state or in blocks,
being held sacred, and used only for the purpose of ma-
1C9 nufacturing images of Gaudnla.
Petroleum ^ hey have also wells of petroleum, which were visited
wells. by the British envoy, who describes his journey to them
in the following terms : “ Doctor Buchanan partook
of an early dinner with me, and when the sun had de¬
scended so low as to be no longer inconvenient, we
mounted our horses to visit the celebrated wells that
produce the oil, an article of universal use throughout
the Birman empire. The face of the country was cheer¬
less and sterile ; the road, which wound among rocky
eminences, was barely wide enough to admit the passage
of a single cart; and in many places the track in which
the wheels must run, was a foot and a half lower on
one side than the other: there were several of these
lanes, some more circuitous than others, according to
the situation of the small hills among which they led :
vehicles going and returning were thus enabled to pur¬
sue different routes, except at particular places, where
the nature of the ground would only admit of one road ;
when a cart came to the entrance of such a defile, the
driver hallooed out to stop any that might interfere with
him from the opposite side, no part being sufficiently
wide for two carts to pass. The hills, or rather hillocks,
were covered with gravel, and yielded no other vegeta¬
tion than a few stunted bushes. The wheels had worn
ruts deep into the rock, which seemed to be rather a
mass of concreted gravel than hard stone, and many Asia.
pieces of petrified wood lay strewed about. It is re-    
markable, that wherever these petrifactions were found,
the soil was unproductive, and the ground destitute of
verdure. The evening being far advanced, we met but
few carts ; those which we did observe were drawn
each by a pair of oxen, and of a length disproportionate
to the breadth, to allow space for the earthen pots that
contained the oil. It was a matter of surprise to us how
they could convey such brittle ware, with any degree
of safety, over so rugged a road ; each pot was packed
in a separate basket, and laid on straw ; notwithstand¬
ing which precaution, the ground all the way was
strewed with the fragments of the vessels and wet with
oil; for no care can prevent the fracture of some in
every journey. As we approached the pits, which
were more distant than W’e had imagined, the country
became less uneven, and the soil produced herbage ; it
was nearly dark when we reached them, and the la¬
bourers had retired from work. There seemed to be a
great many pits within a small compass; walking to
the nearest, we found the aperture about four feet
square, and the sides, as far as we could see down,
were lined with timber; the oil is drawn up in an iron
pot, fastened to a rope, passed over a wooden cylinder
which revolves on an axis supported by two upright
posts ; when the pot is filled, two men take the rope
by the end, and run down a declivity which is cut in
the ground to a distance equivalent to the depth of the
well; thus, when they reach the end of their track,
the pot is raised to its proper elevation ; the contents,
water and oil together, are then discharged into a
cistern, and the water is afterwards drawn off through
a hole at the bottom. Our guide, an active intelligent
fellow, went to the neighbouring house and procured a
well-rope, by means of which we were enabled to mea¬
sure the depth, and ascertained it to be 37 fathoms,
but of the quantity of oil at the bottom we could not
judge ; the owner of the rope, who followed our guide,
affirmed that when a pit yielded as much as came up
to the waist of a man, it was deemed tolerably produc¬
tive ; if it reached to his neck it was abundant ; but
that which rose no higher than the knee was account¬
ed indifferent: when a well is exhausted, they restore the
spring by cutting deeper into the rock, which is ex¬
tremely hard in these places where the oil is produced.
Government farm out the ground that supplies this use¬
ful commodity ; and it is again let to adventurers, who
dig wells at their own hazard, by which they sometimes
gain, and often lose, as the labour and expence of dig¬
ging are considerable. The oil is sold on the spot for
a mere trifle ; I think two or three hundred pots for a
tachal or balf-a-crown. The principal charge is incurred
by the transportation and purchase of vessels. We had
but half gratified our curiosity when it grew dark, and
our guide urged us not to remain any longer, as the
road was said to be infested with tigers that prowled at
night among the rocky uninhabited ways through which
we had to pass ; we followed his advice, and returned,
with greater risk, as 1 thought, of breaking our necks
from the badness of the road than of being devoured by
wild beasts. At ten o’clock we reached our boats with¬
out any misadventure.” iiq
The Birmans are very far from being in a state of character
intellectual darkness. Though they have not explored of the Bir-
thc mans.
A S I
Asia.
nt
Women.
the depths of science, nor reached to excellence in the
■J finer arts, yet they have an undeniable claim to the
character of a civilized and well instructed people.
Their police is better regulated than in most European
countries. In their natural dispositions they are high-
spirited, active, impatient and irascible ; but at the
same time they are friendly and hospitable to strangers,
and their manners are rather expressive of manly can¬
dour than of courteous dissimulation : a knowledge of
letters is so widely diffused, that there are no mechanics,
few of the peasantry, or even the common watermen,
usually the most illiterate class, who cannot read and
write in the vulgar tongue j few, however, are versed
in their books of science, which containing many Shan-
scrit terms, and being often written in the Pali text,
are (like the Hindoo Shasters) above the comprehen¬
sion of the multitude. The Birmans are not shackled
by any prejudices of casts like the Hindoos, restricted
to hereditary occupations, or forbidden to participate
with strangers in every kind of social connexion. Hence
it is probable, that if a respite is allowed them from fo¬
reign wars, their progress in improvement will be rapid.
They are a very sober people, and though the activity
of their character renders them fond of amusements, yet
multitudes of them are seen assembled together upon
their public festivals, without one act of intemperance
being committed, or a single instance of intoxication
being perceived.
The laws or customs of the Birmans with regard to
women contain a strange mixture of reason and of ab¬
surdity 5 on the one hand the women are allowed en¬
tire freedom, and are considered as of much importance,
while in other respects they are treated with great con¬
tempt. The Birmans encourage all strangers to marry
Birman wives j even slaves taken in war who comply
with this invitation, acquire considerable privileges.
This custom, in which these people agree with the
wisest and best governed nations of antiquity, is singular
among the civilized countries of the east, and peculiar¬
ly remarkable in a people surrounded by kingdoms
where women are kept inviolably sacred from the sight
and converse of strangers, and where the exclusive
system of casts or tribes admits neither of civil nor re¬
ligious proselytism. Even the public prostitutes in
China are prohibited from having intercourse with
strangers. The Hindoo women of rank are no less in¬
accessible, and admission into a respectable cast is not
to be obtained by money. The Birmans, on the con¬
trary, sensible that the strength of an empire consists in
its population, admit to their society men of all reli¬
gions and complexions, Pagans or Jews, Mahometans
or Christians, the disciples of Confucius or the worship¬
pers of fire ; the children of whom, born of a Birman
woman, are understood to be natural-born subjects of
the state, and are entitled to the same protection and
privileges as if they had sprung from a line of Birman
ancestry. Accordingly the jealousy which prompts the
eastern nations to immure their women within the walls
of a haram, and to surround them with guards, seems
scarcely to have any influence over the minds of this
extraordinary people. Birman wives and daughters
are not concealed from the sight of men, and are suf¬
fered to have as free intercourse with the world as the
rules of European society admit. A man can only
marry one wife j but it appears that their men of rank
C 747 1
A S t
take a second in the character of a concubine, who is
by Law, however, obliged to attend and obey the law¬
ful wife as a servant. Women are accounted of such
political importance, that gr§at care is taken to pre¬
vent their being conveyed out of the country. The
law in this point is very rigorous ; every ship, before
she receives her clearance, is diligently searched bv
the officers of the customhouse ; even if their vigilance
were to be eluded, the woman would be quickly missed,
and it would soon be discovered in what vessel she had
gone, nor could that ship ever return to a Birman port
but under penalty of confiscation of the property, and
the infliction of a heavy fine and imprisonment on the
master: female children also, born of a Birman mother,
are not suffered to be taken away. Men are permitted
to emigrate ; but they think that the expatriation of wo¬
men would impoverish the state, by diminishing the
sources of its population.
On the other hand, women are treated in many re¬
spects as not belonging to the same scale of creation as
men j the evidence of a woman is not received as of
equal weight with that of a man, and a woman is not
suffered to ascend the steps of a court of justice, but is
obliged to deliver her testimony on the outside of the
roof. The lower class of Birmans make no scruple of
selling their daughters, or even their wives, to strangers
who come to reside amcng them for a short time, and
none of the parties are understood to be dishonoured
by the connexion. When the master of a family in¬
curs debts which he cannot pay, his wife and daughters
may be sold as slaves for payment of his creditors.
Near the great towns is a place, called tackalhj, in the
suburbs, assigned to common prostitutes, who are under
the controul of a public superintendant. He frequent¬
ly purchases the unfortunate women who are sold for
the payment of the debts of their relations, and makes
gain by the prostitution of them.
Still, however, domestic society is on a very differ¬
ent footing among the Birmans from that in which it
is placed among the other eastern nations, and the wo¬
men take a much more active share in the superintend¬
ance of all affairs, as appears from the following anec¬
dote, which fell under the observation of the British
embassy, in the neighbourhood of whose residence a
large ship was building for the governor of Maindu.
“ If this ship was not composed of prime materials, the
building at least w'as well attended to j every morning
the governor’s wife crossed the river in her husband’s
barge, attended by two or three female servants : after
landing, she commonly took her seat on one of the
timbers in the yard, and overlooked the workmen for
some hours; after which she returned home, and sel¬
dom missed coming back in the evening to see that the
day’s task had been completed. The slip on which the
ship was built happened to be contiguous to our first
habitation, a circumstance that caused us to remark her
constant visits j curiosity, however, did not prompt her,
or any of her attendants, to come within our precincts,
whilst decorum deterred us from making advances to¬
wards an acquaintance. Her husband never accom¬
panied ner, and she did not seem to require his aid.
Women in the Birman country are not only good house¬
wives, but likewise manage the more important mer¬
cantile concerns of their husbands, and attend to their
interests in all out-door transactions : they are industri-
5 B 2 ous
Asia.
A S I r 748 ] A S I
Asia.
”3
Politeness.
ous to the greatest degree, and are said to be good mo¬
thers, and seldom from inclination unfaithful wives.”
Marriages among the Birmans are not contracted till
the parties attain the age of puberty. The contract is
purely civil, and the priests have no interference in it.
When a young man is desirous to marry a girl, his mo¬
ther, or nearest female relation, first makes the proposal
in private. If the suit be successful, a party of his
friends proceed to the house of the parents of the maiden,
and adjust the dowry. On the morning of the bridal-
day the bridegroom sends to the bride three loongees,
lower garments 5 three tubbecks, or sashes ; and three
pieces of white muslin ; also such jewels, ear-rings, and
bracelets, as his circumstances admit of. A feast is
prepared by the bride’s parents, and formal writings are
executed. The new-married couple eat out of the same
dish. The bridegroom presents the bride with some
pickled tea, which she accepts, and returns the compli¬
ment, which terminates the ceremony.
The Birmans are extremely polite, but at the same
time unceremonious in their manners. Their form of
demonstrating respect consists of assuming a sitting or
low posture. Accordingly, when persons of rank vi¬
sited the East India Company’s ambassador, they no
sooner came into the apartment than they instantly
took to themselves chairs and sat down, while their
attendants assumed a low posture, by resting upon
their hams in the eastern manner. Though the em¬
bassy was at first received with considerable distrust bv
the government, yet the members of which it was com¬
posed were treated with the utmost politeness and per¬
sonal respect, both by persons in office and bv all ranks
of people. The curiosity with which they were visit¬
ed when at Pegu is thus de-cribed :—“ Our hall in
the morning was generally crowded, as every person
of distinction in Pegu paid us the compliment of a vi¬
sit, except the maywoon, who, within the precincts of
his own government, where he represents the king, ne¬
ver returns a visit. Numbers both of men and women,
prompted by harmless curiosity, surrounded the paling
of the enclosure from morning till night: Those of a
better class usually came in, some previously asking-
permission ; but many entered without it. Perfectly
free from restraint amon^ themselves, the Birmans
scruple not to go into your house without ceremony,
although you are an utter stranger. To do them jus¬
tice, however, they are not at all displeased at your
taking the same freedom with them. This intrusion
is confined wholly to your public room : they do not
attempt to open a door ; and where a curtain dropped
denotes privacy, they never offer to violate the hairier.
On entering the room, they immediately descend into
the posture of respect. 01 all our customs, none seem¬
ed to surprise them more than the preparations for din¬
ing: the variety of utensils, and our manner of sit¬
ting at a table, excited their wonder. They never
took any greater liberty than merely to come into the
room, and sit down on the floor : they meddled with
nothing, and asked for nothing ; and when desired to
go away, always obeyed with cheerfulness. Had un¬
told gold been placed before them, I am confident not
a piece would have been purloined.” The behaviour
of these people at another of their towns is thus men ¬
tioned : “ The news of the mission had reached the
place before we arrived, and excited a general curio¬
sity to see the boomien of the colars, or the general of ^gJ-a
the strangers, as they were pleased to denominate me.   ,_f
Not only the better class of the inhabitants of Meca-
day came to visit us, but likewise people of condition
from all the towns and villages twenty miles round :
I have sometimes received eight or ten different com¬
panies in a morning. When a party wished to be in¬
troduced, a message was sent to ask permission 5 which
being obtained, they entered the room in a crouching
position, and sat down on their heels, men and women
alike. They always brought a gift of something,
whatever they supposed might he acceptable 5 tobac¬
co, onions, fine rice, &c. No company presented
themselves empty handed : it would not have been re¬
spectful. Of course, their offerings drew from me a
suitable return 5 such as, fillets of Indian muslin to the
women, and a Cossembuzar silk handkerchief to the
men. Several parties of women came unaccompanied
by their husbands, or any of their male friends ; and,
according to the notions entertained by them, there
was nothing indecorous in it: They were unconscious
of any thing but an innocent desire to Qratify curiosity
and manifest respect. Women of a better class were
always accompanied by a train of female attendants j
and, like the sex everywhere, were more lively, good
humoured, and inquisitive than the men.”
Among the public amusements of this people are Anuise-
mentioned boxing-matches, fireworks, processions, ex-ments.
hibitions of dancing j as also plays and puppet-shows. IIS
Persons of rank among them are fond of chess. This Chess,
game is held in high estimation among the superior
ranks : the board they use is exactly similar to ours,
containing 64 squares, and their number of troops the
same, 16 on each side 5 but the names, the power, and
disposal of them, difler essentially. The king and his
minister (a queen is never introduced by the orientals)
are mounted on elephants: these are defended by two
castles oryettay ; two knights on horseback, meve; two
officers on foot, one called ?neem, the other chekey; and
eight maundelay ox foot soldiers. The forces of each
party are arranged on three lines, by which eight squares
remain unoccupied : none of the pieces possess equal
force with our queen ; and this restricted operation
renders the Birman mode of playing more complex and
difficult than ours. The Birmans affirm that it is a
game of high antiquity, and that it is acknowledged
and authorized by their sacred writings, although eve¬
ry play of chance is prohibited. This testimony con¬
firms the opinion of the late Sir William Jones, that
chess was invented in India, and is not, as generally
imagined, of Persian origin. The Birmans call it
chedreen, a word that bears some resemblance to the
name which is given to the game in most other parts of
the world. ^
One of their amusements deserves attention, chiefly Throwing
on account of its singularity and the good temper which water on
it indicates. It is thus described hy Mr Symes, who^6 lastday
held the place of ambassador:—“ On the 12th of A-01 ^ year*
pril, the last day of the Birman year, we were invited
by the maywoon to bear a part ourselves in a sport that
is universally practised throughout the Birman domi¬
nions on the concluding day of their annual cycle.
To wash away the impurities of the past, and com¬
mence the new year free from stain, women on this
day are accustomed to throw water on every man they
meet,
A-irt.
A S I [ 749 ] A S I
meet, winch the men have the privilege of retorting.
'This license gives rise to a great deal of harmless mer¬
riment, particularly among the joung women, who,
armed with great syringes and flaggons, endeavour to
wet every man that goes along the street, and in their
turn receive a wetting with perfect good humour. Nor
is the smallest indecency ever manifested in this or in
any other of their sports. Dirty water is never cast.
A man is not allowed to lay hold of a woman, but may
fling as much water over her as he pleases, provided she
has been the aggressor ; but if a woman warns a man
that she does not mean to join in the diversion, it is
considered as an avowal of pregnancy, and she passes
without molestation.
“ About an hour before sunset we went to the may-
woon’s, and found that his lady had provided plenti¬
fully to give us a wet reception. In the hall were
placed three large china jars, full of water, with bowls
and ladles to fling it. Each of us, on entering, had a
bottle of rose water presented to him, a little of which
we in turn poured into the palm of the may woon’s hand,
who sprinkled it over his own vest of fine flowered
muslin. The lady then made her appearance at (he
door, and gave us to understand that she did not mean
to join in the sport herself, but made her eldest daugh¬
ter, a pretty child in the nurse’s arms, pour from a
golden cup some rose-water mixed with sandel wood,
first over her father, and then over each of the English
gentlemen : this was a signal for the sport to begin.
We were prepared, being dressed in linen waistcoats.
From ten to twenty women, young and middle aged,
rushed into the hall from the inner apartments, who
surrounded and deluged without mercy four men, ill
able to maintain so unequal a contest. The maywoon
was soon driven from the field ; but Mr Wood having
got possession of one of the jars, we were enabled to
preserve our ground till the water was exhausted : It
seemed to afford them great diversion, especially if we
appeared at all distressed by the quantity of water flung
in our faces. All parties being tired, and completely
drenched, we went home to change our clothes, and
in the wav met many damsels who would willingly
have renewed the sport; they, however, were afraid to
begin without receiving encouragement from us, not
knowing how it might be taken by strangers; but they
assailed Baba-sheem and his Birman attendants with
little ceremony. No inconvenient consequences were
to be apprehended from the wetting; the weather was
favourable, and we ran no risk of taking cold. Hav¬
ing put on dry clothes, we returned to the maywoon’s,
and were entertained with a dance and puppet show
that lasted till even.”
Di ess. The court dress of the Birman nobles is represented
as very becoming. It consists of a long robe of flower¬
ed satin or of velvet, reaching to the ankles, with an
open collar and loose sleeves. Over this there is a
scarf, or flowing mantle, that lianas from the shoulders,
and on their heads they wear high caps of velvet, ei¬
ther plain, or of si k, embroidered with flowers of gold,
according to the rank of the owner. Ear-rings are
worn bv the men ; and some persons of condition use
tubes of gold about three inches long, and as thick as
a large quill, which expands at one end like the mouth
of a speaking trumpet. Others wear a heavy mass of
gold, beaten into a plate, and rolled *up. This lump
of metal forms a large orifice in the lobe of the ear, ^i-t.
and drags it down by the weight to the extent of some- 1 v •'
times of two inches. Men of rank wear in common
dress a tight coat, with long sleeves made of muslin,
or of extremely fine nankeen, which is manufactured
in the country ; also a silk wrapper that encircles the
waist. The working class are usually naked to the
middje, but in the cold season, a mantle or vest of Eu¬
ropean broad cloth is highly prized. The women tie
their hair in a bunch on the top of the head. They
bind it round with a fillet, the ornaments of which ex¬
press the rank of the wearer. A short shift, reaching
to the pit of the stomach, and drawn tight by strings,
supports the breasts. Over that is a loose jacket, with
close sleeves. Hound their waist they roll a long piece
of silk or cloth, which reaching to their feet, and some¬
times trailing on the ground, encircles them twice, and
is then tucked in. When women of condition go
abroad, they wear a silk sash resembling a long shawl,
which crosses their bosom, and is cast over the shoul¬
ders, so as to flow gracefully on each side. The low¬
est class of females often wear only a single garment in
the form of a sheet, which, wrapped round the body,
and tucked under the arm, crosses their breasts, which
it scarcely conceals, and descends to their ankles. Thus
when they walk, the lower part of the cloth, where it
overlaps, is opened by the protrusion of the leg, and
displays to a side view as high as the middle of the
thigh. Indeed, every woman when walking must shew
a great part of her leg, as the lower part of their dx-ess
is never closed by a seam. Women in full dress stain
the palms of their hands and their nails of a red colour,
by means of a vegetable juice, and strew on their bo¬
soms powder of sandel wood, or of a bark called by them
sunneka, with which some rub their faces. Both men
and women tinge the edges of their eyelids and their
teeth with black.
The Birmans in their features have a nearer resem- Persons of
blance to the Chinese than to the natives of Hindoo-the people,
stan. The women, especially in the northern parts of
the empire, are fairer than the Hindoo females, but not
so delicately formed. They are inclined to corpu¬
lence, and their hair is black, long, and coarse. The
men are athletic and active, but not tall. They have
a very youthful appearance, from the custom of pluck¬
ing out the hair of their beards instead of shaving.
Girls are taught at an early age to turn their arms in
such a manner as to make them appear distorted.
When the arm is extended, the elbow is inverted, the
inside of the joint being protruded, and the external
part bending inwards. 11^
With regard to religion, the Birmans are a sort of Religion.
Hindoos ; not votaries of Brahma, but sectaries of
Boodh; which latter is admitted by Hindoos of all
descriptions to be the ninth avatar or-descent of the
deity in his capacity of preserver. He reformed the
doctrines contained in the vedas, and severely censured
the sacrifice of cattle, or depriving any being of life.
He is called the author of happiness: his place of re¬
sidence was discovered at Gaya in Bengal, by the il¬
lustrious Amara, renowned amongst men, “ who cau¬
sed an image of the supreme Boodh to be made, and
he worshipped it : Reverence be unto thee in the form
of Boodh ; reverence be unto thee, lord of the earth ;
reverence be unto thee au incarnation of the deity,
and ,
A S I [ 7
Asia. and eternal one; reverence be unto thee, O God, in
^ v the form of mercy !”
Gotma, or Gantum, according to the Hindoos of
India, or Gaudma, among the inhabitants of the more
eastern parts, is said to have been a philosopher, and is
by the Birmans believed to have flourished above 2300
years ago. He taught in the Indian schools the he¬
terodox religion and philosophy of Boodh. The
image that represents Boodh is called Gaudma or Gan¬
tum, which is now a commonly received appellation of
Boodh himself: This image is the primary object of
worship in all the countries situated between Bengal and
China. The sectaries of Boodh contend with those of
Brahma for the honour of antiquity, and are certainly
far more numerous. The Cingalese, that is, the ori¬
ginal inhabitants of Ceylon, are Boodhists of the pu¬
rest source 5 and the Birmans acknowledge to have ori¬
ginally received their religion from that island. It
was brought, say the rhahaans, first from Zehoo (Cey¬
lon) to Aracan, and thence was introduced into Ava,
and probably into China ; for the Birmans assert with
confidence that the Chinese are Boodhists.
This is a curious subject of investigation ; and the
concurrent testimony of circumstances, added to the
opinions of the most intelligent writers, seem to leave
little doubt of the fact. It cannot, however, be de¬
monstrated beyond the possibility of dispute, till we
shall have acquired a more perfect knowledge of Chi¬
nese letters, and a readier access to their repositories of
learning. Little can at present be added to the lights
cast on the subject by the late Sir William Jones, in
his discourse delivered to the Asiatic society on the
Chinese. That great man has expressed his conviction
in positive terms, that “ Boodh w'as unquestionably the
10 ot China,” and that he wTas also the god of Japan,
and the Woden of the Goths; an opinion which cor¬
responds with, and is perhaps grafted on, the informa¬
tion of the learned and laborious Ksempfer, corrobora¬
ted afterwards by his own researches. On whatever
grounds the latter inference rests, it will not tend to
weaken the belief of his first position, when I observe
that the Chinese deputies, on the occasion of our intro¬
duction to the seredan, or high priest of the Birman
empire, prostrated themselves before him, and after¬
wards adored an image of Gaudma with more religious
fervour than mere politeness or acquiescence in the
customs of another nation would have excited. The
bonzes also of China, like the rhahaans of Ava, wear
yellow, as the sacerdotal colour; and in many of their
customs and ceremonies there may be traced a striking
x 20 similitude.
-Laws. Ihe laws of the Birmans are connected with their
\ ehgion, being contained in what they call the Derma
Sath, or Sastra, which is one of many commentaries on
the writings of Menu, to whom, according to the Hin¬
doos, the sacred principles of their law were revealed
by divine authority.
I he Sastra provides specifically for almost every case
nf crime that can be committed, and adds a copious
chapter of precedents and decisions to guide the inex¬
perienced. The Birmans agree with the Hindoos in
one benevolent doctrine, the sinfulness of depriving any
creature of life to satisfy a carnivorous appetite ; but
the Birmans do not can-y this branch of their religion
to any scrupulous length, like the timid and supersti-
;o ] A S I
tious natives of the western peninsula. Merely to eat Ada.
flesh is not deemed a crime by the Birmans ; but he v—.
who eats it is not exempt from sin, unless the creature
died a natural death, or was slain by accident, or by
other hands. But in every thing that concerns reli¬
gion the Birmans are abundantly liberal. The prohi¬
bition to kill animals as objects of food is nowhere ve¬
ry scrupulously observed, except by the rhahaans or
priests. In times of danger, or in consequence of su¬
perstition, the king and his viceroys sometimes issue
proclamations, enjoining obedience to the sacred law;
but these produce little other effect than to cause the
animals for a short time to be killed with more secre¬
cy than usual ; and wherever ‘foreigners are in que¬
stion, both the government and the people are abun¬
dantly tolerant. The maywoon of Pegu, who sent to
the embassy large supplies of fruit, rice, oil, tamarinds,
and spices, did not indeed offer any butchers meat for
the use of the table; but they were allowed to purchase
and kill whatever they wanted, such as, fowls, kid,
and venison. When they had advanced farther into
the country, a private intimation was given to the am¬
bassador, that there would be no crime if a servant of
his should kill a fat bullock when he met one ; that it
Would be ascribed to accident, and reparation might
be made to the owner, who would think himself amply
recompensed for his loss by two tachals, about six shil¬
lings ; and the beast being dead, there could be no sin
in eating it, but that a public sanction could not pre- I2I
Viously be given to slaughter one. The Birmans ne-Religious
ver quarrel with a stranger on account of his religion, toleration.
Their principal sea-port, Rangoon, has long been the
asylum of insolvent debtors from the different settle¬
ments of India. It is crowded with foreigners of des¬
perate fortunes, who find from the Birmans a friendly
reception, and carry on a petty trade, which affords a
decent subsistence to those who act with prudence.
Here are to be found fugitives from all countries of the
east, and of all complexions : Malabars, Moguls, Per¬
sians, Parsees, Armetiians, Portuguese, French, and
English all mingle here, and are engaged in various
branches of commerce. The members of this discor¬
dant multitude are not only permitted to reside under
the protection of government, but likewise enjoy the
most liberal toleration in matters of religion : They
celebrate their several rites and festivals, totally dis¬
regarded by the Birmans, who have no inclination to
make proselytes. In the same street may be heard the
solemn voice of the muezzin, calling pious Islamites to
early prayers, and the bell of the Portuguese chapel
tinkling a summons to Romish Christians. Processions
meet and pass each other without giving or receiving
cause of offence. The Birmans never trouble them¬
selves about the religious opinions of any sect, nor dis¬
turb their ritual ceremonies, provided they do not break
the peace, or meddle with their owm divinity, Gaud¬
ma ; but if any person commit an outrage, which the
mussulmans in their zeal for the true faith will some¬
times do, the offender is sure to be put into the stocks ;
and it that does not calm his turbulent enthusiasm, they
bastinado him into tranquillity. 122
The rhahaans, or priests, are a kind of monks whoRhahaaiis
live in cloisters, profess celibacy, and abstain from or priests,
every sensual indulgence. The prescribed punishment
for a rhahaan detected in an act of incontinence, is
expulsion
Asia.
A S I [ 751 ] A S I
Asia. expulsion and public disgrace. The delinquent is
i—v—-*' seated on an ass, and his face daubed with black paint,
interspersed with spots of white. He is thus led
through the streets, with a drum beating before him,
and afterwards turned out of the city. The juniors
only go abroad by the permission of the superior or
prior of the convent. They are dressed in a long loose
cloak, and yellow is the only colour worn by them.
The rhahaans never dress their own victuals, holding
it an abuse of time to perform any of the common func¬
tions of life, which, so long as they occupy, must di¬
vert them from the abstract contemplation of the di¬
vine essence. They receive the contributions of the
laity ready cooked, and prefer cold food to hot. At
the dawn of the morning they begin to perambulate
the town, to collect supplies for the day : Each, con¬
vent sends forth a certain number of its members, who
walk at a quick pace through the streets, supporting
with the right arm a blue lackered box, in which the
donations are deposited , these usually consist of boiled
rice mixed with oil, dried and pickled fish, sweet¬
meats, fruit, &c. During their walk they never cast
their eyes to the right nor to the left, but keep them
fixed on the ground 5 they do not stop to solicit, and
seldom even look at the donors, who appear more de¬
sirous to bestow than the others to receive. The rha¬
haans eat but once a-day, at the hour of noon. A
much larger quantity of provisions being commonly pro¬
cured than suffices for the members of the convent, the
surplus is disposed of as charitably as it was given, to
the needy stranger, or the poor scholars who daily at¬
tend them to be instructed in letters, and taught their
^ moral and religious duties.
Kiouais or ^ieir choice of a residence, the rhahaans com-
monaste- monly select the most retired spots they can find,
ries. where shady trees, particularly the tamarind and ba¬
nyan, protect them from the noonday sun. Their
monasteries are different from common houses j they
are made entirely of wood ; the roof is composed of
different stages supported by strong pillars j the inside
comprehends one large hall ; the whole house is open
at the sides, and no private apartments are allowed :
Publicity is the prevailing system of Birman conduct,
and they admit of no secrets either in church or state.
All kioums or monasteries, whether in town or coun¬
try, are seminaries for the education of youth, in
which boys of a certain age are taught their letters,
and instructed in moral and religious duties. To these
schools the neighbouring villagers send their children,
where they are educated gratis, no distinction being
made between the son of the peasant, and of him who
wears the tsaloe or string of nobility. A piece of
ground contiguous to the grove is enclosed for a gar¬
den, where they sow vegetables and plant fruit trees }
the Indian sweet potato and the plantain, being the
most nutritious, are principally cultivated. The cha¬
rity of the country people supplies them abundantly
with rice, and the few necessaries which their narrow
wants require. Abstracted from all worldly conside¬
rations, they do not occupy themselves in the common
concerns of life : they never buy, sell, or accept of
money. Formerly there were nunneries of virgin
priestesses, who, like the rhahaans, wore yellow gar¬
ments, cut off their hair, and devoted themselves to
chastity and religion 5 but the Birman government has
long since abolished these societies, and refuses to al¬
low women, under pretence of religion, to be with¬
drawn from the performance of the important duty of
contributing to support and increase the population of
the state.
The Birmans are extremely magnificent in the struc-
ture of their temples j that of Shoemadoo, at the an¬
cient city of Pegu, is most remarkable. We shall
therefore give the description of it at full length :
“ The object in Pegu that most attracts and most me- i2
rsts notice, is the noble ediffce of Shoemadoo or the temple of
golden supreme. This extraordinary pile of buildings Shoema-
is ei'ected on a double terrace, one raised upon another, doo.
The lower and greater terrace is about IO feet above
the natural level of the ground, forming an exact paral¬
lelogram : the upper and lesser terrace is similar in
shape, and rises about 20 feet above the lower terrace,
or 30 above the level of the country. I judged a side
of the lower terrace to be 1391 feet; of the upper 684.
The walls that sustained the sides of the terrace, both
upper and lower, are in a ruinous state j they were for¬
merly covered with plaster wrought into various figures.
The area of the lower is strewed with the fragments of
small decayed buildings ; but the upper is kept free
from filth, and is in tolerable good order. There is
reason to conclude, that this building and the fortress
are coeval, as the earth of which the terraces are com¬
posed, appears to have been taken from the ditch j there
being no other excavation in the city, or in its neigh¬
bourhood, that could have afforded a tenth part of the
quantity.
“ The terraces are ascended by flights of stone steps,
which are now broken and neglected. On each side are
dwellings of the rhahaans raised on timbers four or five
feet from the ground. These houses consist only of a
large wall 5 the wooden pillars that support them are
turned with neatness; the roofs are covered with tiles,
and the sides are made of boards ; and there are a num¬
ber of bare benches in every house, on which the rha-
haans sleep ; but we saw no other furniture.
“ Shoemadoo is a pyramidical building composed of
brick and mortar, without excavation or aperture of
any sort, octagonal at the base, and spiral at top;
each side of the base measures 162 feet; this immense
breadth diminishes abruptly, and a similar building has
not unaptly been compared in shape to a large speaking
trumpet.
“ Six feet from the ground there is a wide projec¬
tion that surrounds the base, on the plane of which are
57 small spires of equal size, and equidistant; one of
them measured 27 feet in height, and 40 in circumfe¬
rence at the bottom. On a higher ledge there is ano¬
ther row, consisting of 54 spires of similar shape and
measurement.
“ A great variety of mouldings encircle the building,
and ornaments somewhat resembling the fleur-de-lys sur¬
round the lower part of the spire; circular mouldings
likewise girt it to a considerable height, above which
there are ornaments in stucco not unlike the leaves of
a Corinthian capital : And the whole is crowned by a
tee or umbrella, of open iron-work, from which rises a
rod with a gilded pennant.
“ The tee or umbrella is to be seen on every sacred
building that is of a spiral form; the raising and con¬
secration of this last and indispensable appendage is an
act
A S I [7
act of high religious solemnity, and a season of festivi¬
ty and relaxation. The present king bestowed the tee
that covers Shoemadoo. It was made at the capital ;
and many ot the principal nobility came down from
Ummerapoora to be present at the ceremony of its ele¬
vation.
“ The circumference of the tee is 56 feet; it rests
on an iron axis fixed on the building, and is farther se¬
cured by large chains strongly rivetted to the spire.
.Round the lower rim of the tee are appended a number
of bells, which, agitated by the wind, make a continual
jingling.
“ I he tee is gilt, and it is said to be the intention of
the king to gild the whole ol the spire. All the lesser
pagodas are ornamented with proportionable umbrellas
of similar workmanship, which are likewise encircled
by small bells.
“ I he extreme height of the edifice, from the level
of the country, is 361 feet, and above the interior ter¬
race 331 feet.
“ On the south-east angle of the upper terrace there
are two handsome saloons or kioums lately erected, the
roofs composed ot different stages, supported by pil¬
lars ; we judged the length ot each to he about 60
feet, and the breadth 30 } the ceiling of one is already
embellished with gold leaf, and the pillars are lacker¬
ed ; the decoration of the other is not yet completed.
They are made entirely of wood ; the carving on the
outside is laborious and minute ; we saw several unfi¬
nished figures of animals and men in grotesque atti¬
tudes, which were designed as ornaments for different
parts of the building. Some images of Gaudma, the
supreme object of Birman adoration, lay scattei’ed a-
round.
“ At each angle of the interior and higher terrace
there is a temple 67 feet high, resembling in miniature
the great temple ; in front of that, in the southern cor¬
ner, are four gigantic representations in masonry of
halloo or the evil genius, half beast half human, seated
on their hams, eacli with a large club on the right
shoulder. I lie Pundoo who accompanied me, said that
they resembled the Rahuss of the Hindoos. These are
guardians of the temple.
Nearly in the centre of the east face of the area are
two human figures in stucco beneath a gilded umbrella j
one standing represents a man with a book before him,
and a pen in his hand } he is called Thasiarnce, the re¬
corder of mortal merits and mortal misdeeds; the other,
a female figure kneeling, is Maha Sumdera, the protect¬
ress of the universe, so long as the universe is doomed
to last ; but when the time of general dissolution ar¬
rives, by her hand the world is to be overwhelmed and
everlastingly destroyed.
“ A small brick-building, near the north-east angle,
contains an upright marble slab, four feet high, and
three feet wide there is a long legible inscription on
it. I was told it was an account of the donations of
pilgrims of only a recent date.
“ Along the whole extent of the north face of the
uppei terrace there is a wooden shed, for the conve¬
nience of devotees who come from a distant part of
the country. On the north side of the temple are three
large bells of good workmanship, suspended nigh the
ground between pillars ; several deers horns lie strew¬
ed around 5 those who come to pay their devotions first,
52 ] AST
take up one of the horns and strike the bell three times,
giving an alternate stroke to the ground : this act I was
told is to announce to the spirit of Gaudma, the ap¬
proach of a suppliant. J here are several low benches
near the foot of the temple on which the person who
comes to pray places his offering, commonly consisting
of boiled rice, a plate of sweetmeats, or cocoa nut fried
iu oil : when it is given, tbe devotee cares not what be¬
comes ol it ; tbe crows and wild dogs often devour it in
presence of the donor, who never attempts to disturb the
animals. 1 saw several plates of victuals disposed of
in this manner, and understood it to be the case with all
that was brought.
“ There are many small temples on the areas of both
terraces, which are neglected and suffered to fall into
decay. Numberless images of Gaudma lie indiscrimi¬
nately, scattered. A pious Birman who purchases an
idol, first procures the ceremony of consecration to he
performed by the rhahaans ; he then takes his purchase
to whatever sacred building is most convenient, and
there piaces it within the shelter 01 a kioum, or in the
open ground before the temple; nor does he ever again
seem to have any anxiety about its preservation, but
leaves the divinity to shift for itself. Some of those idols
are made of marble that is found in the neighbourhood
of the capital of the Birman dominions, many are form¬
ed of wood and gilded, and a few are of silver. The
latter, however, are not usually exposed and neglected
like the others. Silver and gold are rarely used, ex¬
cept in the composition of household gods.
“ On both the terraces are a number of white cylin¬
drical flags raised on bamboo poles ; these flags are pe¬
culiar to the rhahaans, and are considered as emblema¬
tic ol purity and of their sacred functions. On the top
of the staff there is a henza or goose, the symbol both
of the Birman and Pegu nations.
“ Prom the upper projection that surrounds the base
of Shoemadoo, the prospect of the circumjacent coun¬
try is extensive and picturesque ; but it is a prospect
of nature in her rudest state : there are few inhabitants,
and scarcely any cultivation. The Siills of Martaban
rise to the eastward, and the Sitang river, winding
along the plains, gives an interrupted view of its wa¬
ters. To the northward about 40 miles are the Galad-
zet hills, whence the Pegu river takes its rise; hills re¬
markable only for the noisome effects of their atmo¬
sphere. In every other direction the eye looks over a
boundless plain, chequered by a wild intermixture of
wood and water.”
The temple of Shoemadoo appeai-s to he the largest
in the Birman dominions. At the same time, they
have many others formed upon a similar plan and of
great extent. Of one of these we shall take notice,
on account of the coincidence between its name, and
the name of a Pagan temple mentioned in the sacred
Scriptures. It is to be observed, that in the Birman
tongue the word s/ioe, signifies golden; and the name
of the temple to which we allude, is called S/ioedagon,
or the temple of the golden Dagon. It is thus described :
“ The temple of Shoedagon or Dagonng, about two
miles and a hall north of Rangoon, is a very grand
building, although not so high by 25 or 30 feet as
that of Shoemadoo at Pegu. It is much more orna¬
mented ; the terrace on which it stands is raised on a
rocky eminence, considerably higher than the circum¬
jacent
Asia.
A S I [ 753 ] AS
jacent country. It is ascended by above 10© stone steps end to pull down the thatch.
126
Private
buildings.
-J that have been suffered to fall into decay. The situation
renders Shoedagon a conspicuous object at the distance
of many miles. The tee and the whole of the spire are
richly gilded, which, when the sun shines, exhibit a
singularly splendid appearance.
“ The small auxiliary buildings are yet more nume¬
rous than those that surround the base of the Pegu tem¬
ple. Perceiving that several of these were in a ruinous
state, whilst the foundations of others were just laid,
and some half finished, I asked, why they did not
repair the damages of the old before they erected new
ones, and was told, that to mend a decayed praw or
temple, though an act of piety, was not so meritorious
as to erect a new one ; that sometimes the old ones
were repaired by those who were unwilling or unable
to be at the expence of a complete building j but this
entirely depended on the means or inclination of the
donor.
“ The borders of the terrace on which the temple is
raised are planted with shady trees in regular rows :
From this eminence there is a beautiful and extensive
prospect *, the Pegu and Rangoon rivers are seen wind¬
ing through a level woody country, and the temple of
Syriam, little inferior to those that have been de¬
scribed, stands near the junction of the streams. The
rainy monsoon had now set in, and inundations were
formed in several places. It would have been a more
pleasing, though perhaps less picturesque scene, had the
plains been cleared and the fields laid out for cultiva¬
tion : we could observe few marks of improvement ;
woods, lakes, and rivers, presented themselves on every
side.”
But although the Birmans display sufficient magnifi¬
cence in their temples and public buildings, their pri¬
vate houses are constructed of very simple and cheap
materials. Their king has even prohibited brick or
stone to be used in the construction of any private
house, from an apprehension, it is said, that if people
were allowed to erect brick houses, they might erect
brick fortifications to the danger of the state. It is
not improbable, however, that the prohibition is owing
to another cause. In the hot climates, where the soil
is fertile, if the population happen to be defective, it
is extremely difficult to prevent the whole country
from being overrun with forests, which is at present
in a great degree the case in the Birman dominions.
One of the easiest modes of subduing these forests, con-
'sists of adopting the measure now mentioned, of prohi¬
biting the use of brick or stone for private buildings.
In other respects, however, the houses are built with
sufficient attention to conveniency, and are all raised
from the ground, either on wooden posts or bamboos,
according to the size of the building*, so that the lower
floor is above the ground. The monasteries of the
rhahaans, and the habitations of the higher ranks, are
usually elevated six or eight feet, and those of the
lower classes from two to four. The walls of the
houses are made of boards or mats, supported on bam¬
boos or posts. One inconvenience, however, attends
them all, that from their being composed of such com¬
bustible materials, the inhabitants are under continual
dread of fire, against which they take every precau¬
tion. The roofs are lightly covered ; and at every
door stands a long bamboo with an iron hook at the
VoL. II. Part II. f
Asia.
There is also another
pole with an iron grating at the extremity to suppress
flame by pressure. Almost every house has earthen
pots filled with water, standing ready on the roof;
and a number of firemen patrole the streets during the
night to put out all fires and lights after a certain
hour.
It is customary when the king, or when persons of Temporary
high rank travel, to erect temporary habitations forhouses*
them, and this was done in honour of the British em¬
bassy. These temporary houses are thus described ;
“ The materials of which these houses are made, are al¬
ways easy to be procured ; and the structure is so sim¬
ple, that a spacious and by no means an uncomfortable
dwelling, suited to the climate, may be erected in one
day. Our habitation, consisting of a small room to each,
and a hall, open to the north, in little more than four
hours was in readiness for our reception. Fifty or sixty-
labourers completed it in that time; and, on emergency,
could perform the work in much less. Bamboos, grass
for thatching, and the ground rattan, are all the mate¬
rials requisite; not a nail is used in the whole edifice ;
a row of strong bamboos from eight to ten feet high
are fixed firm in the ground, which describe the outline,
and are the supports of the building; smaller bamboos
are then tied horizontally, by strips of the ground rat¬
tan, to these upright posts; the walls, composed of bam¬
boo mats, are fastened to the sides with similar liga¬
ments ; bamboo rafters are quickly raised, and a roof
formed, over which thatch is spread in regular layers,
and bound to the roof by filaments of rattan ; a floor
of bamboo grating is next laid in the inside, elevated
two or three feet above the ground ; this grating is
supported on bamboos, and covered with mats and car¬
pets : this ends the process, which is not more simple
than eftectual. When the workmen take pains, a
house of this sort is proof against very inclement wea¬
ther. We experienced during our stay at Meeaday, a
severe storm of wind and rain, but no water penetrated
nor thatch escaped ; and, if the tempest should blow
down the house, the inhabitants would run no risk of
having their brains knocked out or their bones broken;
the fall of the whole fabric wmuld not crush a lady’s lap
do£*”   I28
In the administration of justice the Birmans are ex-Admini-
tremely regular and formal; the place where the judgesslration of
of any district sit is called the rhoom, where they hear the justice‘
pleadings of parties or their counsel, and examine wit¬
nesses, whose depositions are taken down in writing.
These depositions are sent to the maywoon or viceroy,
who represents the king, and the judges transmit their
opinions along with the evidence, which the maywoon
either confirms or rejects as he thinks proper ; and, in
.cases of capital conviction, orders execution or pardons
the culprit. From his judgment there lies no appeal,
unless the offender hold a royal commission ; in which
case the evidence must be transmitted to the council of
state, and the king himself applies the law and pro¬
nounces judgment. I2(?
The building denominated the r/ioom is also the offi-The rhoom.
cial hall where the members of provincial governments
and all municipal officers are accustomed to assemble
to transact public business. Every man of high rank in
the Birman empire is a magistrate, and has a place of
this description and name contiguous to his dwelling ;
S C but
A S I E 75+ ] A S I
Asia. bat always on the outside of the enclosure of his court-
1 v ' ' yard, and not surrounded by any fence or railing, in
order to manifest publicity, and show that it is the seat
of majesty and justice, to which all mankind may have
free access. An imperial mandate to a governor, or an
order from a governor to a petty miongee or chief of a
small town or district, is invariably opened and read
aloud in this sanctified hall. The Birman government,
in the administration of public affairs, professes no such
thing as privacy or concealment. The rhoom is like¬
wise an appendage of dignity, as it denotes him to
whose habitation it is annexed to be a person of rank
and consequence 5 a building of this sort was erected
within a few yards of the front gate of the British am¬
bassador’s enclosure. It is to be remarked, that when
the ambassador had obtained from the government the
establishment of certain regulations respecting com¬
merce, and had returned to the sea port of Rangoon,
the viceroy of that district informed him that the or¬
ders for carrying into effect the late regulations would
be publicly read and rsgislered at the rhoom on the fol¬
lowing day. The viceroy also invited him to send a
confidential person to be present at the ceremony j ad¬
ding, that the records were also open to the public in¬
spection *, and that whoever chose might, at any time,
procure a copy, by paying a trifling fee to the officers
of the court. The result of this publicity is, that fo¬
reigners, acquainted with the character of the people,
do not hesitate to trust themselves in the very centre
of the country. At the distance of 150 miles from the
coast, including the windings of the river, our embassy
found a Mussulman merchant from Sui’at, out of eco¬
nomy, building a vessel of four hundred tons burden,
instead of building it at the sea port of Rangoon. He
meant, as soon as the hull should be finished, to float it
down the stream. The inland navigation is considex-ed
as dangerous; but this merchant chose to encounter
the risk for the sake of obtaining the teek timber at a
cheap rate near the spot where it gx*ows, and proba¬
bly also for the sake of obtaining labour at a more mo¬
derate price. This adventurer furnishes a proof of the
confidence that may be placed in the Birman govern¬
ment, and the security that a stranger has for his pro-
130 Perty-
Military The Birman government is of a feudal nature in the
force. strictest sense of the word. The people are a nation
of soldiers ; every man in the kingdom being liable
to be called upon military service, and war is deemed
the most honourable occupation. The regular milita¬
ry establishment of the nation, however, as among our
ancestors in feudal times, is very inconsiderable, con¬
sisting only of the royal guards, and as many troops as
are necessary to preserve the police of the capital.
X hese are supposed to amount, in all, to about 2oco
infantry, and 300 cavalry, though it is said that the
cavalry scattered in small detachments through the dis¬
tricts adjoining to the capital, amount to about 2000.
The infantry are armed xvith muskets and sabres, and
are not uniformly clothed ; the cavalry in the king’s
service, are natives of the northern province of Cassay,
who are accounted much better horsemen than the Bir¬
mans ; they seldom use any other weapon than a spear
about seven or eight feet long. They ride like all
orientals with short stirrups, and a loose rein 5 their
dress is not unbecoming; it consists of a tight coat, with
2
skirts reaching down to the middle of the thigh, and Asia,
on their head they wear a turban of cloth lulled hard 1—-v—J
and plaited, which forms a high cone, that bends back¬
wards in a graceful manner ; their horses are small,
but hardy and active, and are frequently exported*to
the western peninsula. When an army is to be raised,
a mandate issues to all the viceroys of provinces and
governors of districts, x-equiring a certain number of
men to be at a general rendezvous on an appointed
day; the levy is proportioned to the population of the
province or district, estimated from the.number of re¬
gistered houses that it contains ; the provincial court
determines the burden which each house is to bear ;
a certain number of houses furnish a recruit among
them, or pay 300 tackal in money, about 40I. or 45I.:
The recruit is supplied with arms, ammunition, and,
it is believed, with a daily allowance of grain, from
the government; but he receives no pay. The fami¬
lies of these conscripts are carefully retained in their
districts as hostages for the good conduct of their rela¬
tion. In case of desertion or treachery, the innocent
wife, children, and parents of the guilty person, are
dragged to execution without pity ; even cowardice
subjects the family of the delinquent to capital pu¬
nishment, and this barbarous law is rigorously in-
forced. I5r
By far the most respectable part of the Birman mi-War-boats,
litary force is the establishment of war-boats ; every
town of note in the vicinity of the principal rivers is
obliged to furnish a certain number of men, and one
or more boats, in proportion to the magnitude of the
place : thus the king can command at a very short no¬
tice 500 of these vessels : They are constructed out of
the solid trunk of the teek-tree, which is excavated
partly by fire and partly by cutting; the largest are
from 80 to 100 feet long, but the breadth seldom ex¬
ceeds eight feet, and even this space is produced by
artificially extending the sides after the trunk has been
hollowed : they carry from 50 to 60 rowers, who use
short oars, that work-on a spindle. The prow is solid,
and is a flat surface, on which, when they go to war,
a piece of ordnance is mounted ; a six, a nine, or even
a twelve pounder. The gun-carriage is secured by lash¬
ings to strong bolts on each side, and swivels are fre¬
quently fixed on the curvature of the stern. Each
rower is provided with a sword and a lance, which are
placed by his side while he plies the oars. Besides the
boatmen, there are usually 30 soldiers on board, who
are armed with muskets : thus prepared, they go in
fleets to meet the foe, and when in sight, dx-aw up in a
line, presenting their prows to the enemy. Their at¬
tack is extremely impetuous ; they advance with great
rapidity, and sing a war song, at once to encoux-age
their people, daunt their adversaries, and regulate the
strokes of their oars ; they generally endeavour to
grapple, and when that is effected, the action becomes
very severe, as these people are endowed with great
courage, strength, and activity. In times of peace
they are fond of exercising in their boats, and they
display much dexterity in the management of them.
I’he vessels being low in the water, their greatest
danger is that of being run down by a larger boat
striking on their broadside, a misfortune which the
steersman is taught to dread and to avoid above all
other. It is sui'prising, says the author, to see the fa¬
cility
A S I [ 755 ] A S I
Asia. cility with which they steer and elude each other in
-M'——' their mock combats. The rowers are also practised to
row backwards, and impel the vessel with the stern
foremost; this is the mode of x’etreating, by means of
which the artillery still bears upon their opponent. The
largest of the war boats do not draw more than three
132 feet water.
Rerenue. The revenue of the Birman king is, according to
the laws of their religion, as stated in their sacred
books, a tenth of all produce, and it is certain that one-
tenth is the amount of the king’s duty on all foreign
goods imported into his dominions. The revenues ari¬
sing from the customs on imports, and from internal
produce, is mostly taken in kind; a small part of which
is converted into cash : the rest is distributed as received
in lieu of salaries to the various dependants of the
court. Princes of the blood, high officers of state, and
provincial governors, receive grants of provinces, cities,
villages, and farms, to support their dignity, and as
a remuneration of their services j the rents of these
assignments they collect for their own benefit. Money,
except on pressing emergency, is never disbursed from
the royal coffers : to one man the fees of an office are
allotted ; to another a station where certain imposts are
collected j a third has land ; each in proportion to the
importance of his respective employment. By these
donations they are not only bound in their own personal
servitude, but likevise in that of all their dependants j
they are called slaves of the king, and, in turn, their
slaves are denominated slaves to them ; the conditions
of these grants include also services of war as well as
the duties of office. Thus the Birman government
exhibits almost a faithful picture of Europe in the
darker ages, when, on the decline of the Roman em¬
pire, the principles of feudal dependance were establish-
133 ed by barbarians from the north.
The go- This system of feudal dependance may be consider-
^ernmcnt e(j as existing in the Birman government in its purest
state. There are no hereditary dignities or employ¬
ments ; all honours and offices on the demise of the
possessor revert to the crown, a circumstance which
when taken along with the obligation to military ser¬
vice, which is incumbent upon all down to the lowest
of the people, gives to this government that appearance
of a military encampment and subordination which the
feudal tenures have been understood to exhibit, but from
which they degenerated in Europe, when dignities and
authority became hereditary. In consequence of the
Ranks in feudal principles which here prevail, the subordination
society, of rank is maintained and marked by the Birmans with
the most tenacious strictness. In the manner of con¬
structing houses, whether temporary or lasting, strict
attention is paid to the form which indicates the rank
of the inhabitants ; nor dare any subject assume a mode
of structure to which he is not legally entitled : the
distinction consists chiefly of the number of stages of
which the roof is composed j even domestic imple¬
ments, such as the betel-box, water-flagon, drinking-
cup, and horse-furniture, all express by their shape and
quality the precise station of the owner ; nor can one
person intrude upon the rights of another under penalty
of incurring a most severe punishment, which is never
remitted. The tsaloe, or chain, is the badge of the
order of nobility, of which there are different degrees,
distinguished by the number of strings or small chains
that compose the ornament. These strings are fastened Asia,
by bosses where they unite : three of open chain-work —y—'
is the lowest rank j three of neatly twisted wire is the
next j then of six, of nine, and of twelve $ no subject
is ever honoured with a higher degree than twelve j
the king alone wears 24.
As gold is understood to be the noblest of metals,
the king of the Birmans, who is the foundation of rank,
is designated or described by the appellation of shoe
or golden; thus, a particular village inhabited by
watermen in the service of the king, is called Shoe-lee-
I'ua, or golden boat village, nor is the person of the
sovereign ever spoken of but in conjunction with this
precious metal. W hen a subject means to affirm that
the king has heard anything, he says, “ It has reached
the golden ears 5’* he who has obtained admission to
the royal presence, has been at the golden feet; the
perfume of ottar of roses, a nobleman observed one
day, “ was an odour grateful to the golden nose.”
Gold among the Birmans being a type of excellence, is
not merely ascribed to their king, but on solemn oc¬
casions it is placed on his dress in such quantities as to
prove not a little cumbersome. The form in which the
ambassadors were introduced to his majesty, and the 135
appearance which he made, are thus described : “ On hitroduc-
entering the gate, rve perceived the royal saloon of ce- |‘ou °J a,“*
remony in front of us, and the court assembled in all
the parade of pomp and decoration. It was an open king,
hall, supported by colonnades of pillars, 20 in length
and only four in depth ; we were conducted into it by
a flight of steps, and advancing, took our places next
the space opposite to the throne, which is always left
vacant, as being in full view of his majesty. On our
entrance, the basement of the throne was alone visible,
which we judged to be about five feet high ; folding
doors screened the seat from our view: the throne, call¬
ed yazapalay, was richly gilded and carved ; on each
side a small gallery, enclosed by a gilt balustrade, ex¬
tended a few feet to the right and left, containing four
umbrellas of state j and on two tables at the foot of the
throne were placed several large vessels of gold, of va¬
rious forms, and for different purposes; immediately
over the throne a splendid piasath or pyramid rose in \
seven stages above the roof of the building, crowned by
a tee or umbrella, from which a spiral rod was eleva¬
ted above the whole.
“ We had been seated little more than a quarter of
an hour, when the folding-doors that concealed the
seat opened with a loud noise, and discovered his ma¬
jesty ascending a flight of steps that led up to the
throne from the inner apartment 5 he advanced but
slowly, and seemed not to possess a free use of his
limbs, being obliged to support himself with his hands
on the balustrade. I was informed, however, that
this appearance of weakness did not proceed from any
bodily infirmity, but from the weight of the regal ha¬
biliments in which he was clad ; and if what we were
told was true, that he carried on his dress 15 vis, up¬
wards of 50 pounds avoirdupois of gold, his difficulty
of ascent was not surprising. On reaching the top, he
stood for a minute, as though to take breath, and then
sat down on an embroidered cushion, with his legs in¬
verted. His crown was a high conical cap, richly
studded with precious stones: his fingers were covered
with rings, and in his dx'ess he bore the appearance of
A S I r 756 ] A S I
Asia. a man cased in golden armour, whilst a gilded or pro-
w—, bably a golden wing on each shoulder did not add
much lightness to his figure. His looks denoted him
to be between 50 and 60 years old, of a strong make,
in stature rather beneath the middle height, with hard
features, and of a dark complexion ; yet the expres¬
sion of his countenance was not unpleasing, and seem¬
ed, I thought, to indicate an intelligent and inquiring
mind.
“ On the first appearance of his majesty, all the
courtiers bent their bodies, and held their hands join¬
ed in an attitude of supplication. Nothing farther was
required of us than to lean a little forward, and to turn
in our legs as much as we could y not any act being so
unpolite or contrary to etiquette as to present the soles
of the feet towards the face of a dignified person. Four
Bramins, dressed in white caps and gowns, chanted the
usual prayer at the foot of the throne: a nakhaan
then advanced into the vacant space before the king,
and recited in a musical cadence the name of each per¬
son who was to be introduced on that day, and of
whose present, in the character of a suppliant, he en¬
treated his majesty’s acceptance. My offering con¬
sisted of two pieces of Benares gold brocade ; Doctor
Buchanan and Mr Wood, each presented one. When
our names were mentioned, we were separately desired
to take a few grains of rice in our hands, and, joining
them, to bow to the king as low as we conveniently
could 5 with which we immediately complied. When
this ceremony was finished, the king uttered a few in¬
distinct words, to convey, as I was informed, an or¬
der for investing some persons present with the in¬
signia of a certain degree of nobility ; the imperial
mandate was instantly proclaimed aloud by heralds
in the court. His majesty remained only a few mi¬
nutes longer, and during that time looked at us at¬
tentively, but did not honour us with any verbal no¬
tice, or speak at all, except to give the order before
mentioned. When he rose to depart, he manifested
the same signs of infirmity as on his entrance; after he
had withdrawn, the folding doors were closed, and the
court broke up.”
It may here be added that among the Birmans the
royal family is held of so much importance, that to suc¬
ceed to the throne, every prince must be descended
from royal parentage by both father and mother $ for
ibis reason incestuous marriages are permitted to
their princes, hut to nobody else j the king may in¬
deed marry a second wife of inferior rank while his
first is alive, but she is accounted merely a concubine,
and her children are illegitimate, and cannot inherit
j3(j the throne.
.Literature. I he books of the Birmans are generally formed of
the palmetto leaf, on which the letters are engraved
with a stylus. Books are sometimes composed, how¬
ever, or thin strips of bamboo delicately plaited, and
varnished over in such a manner as to form a smooth
hard surface upon a leaf of any dimension. This sur¬
face is afterwards gilded, and the letters traced upon
it in black and shining japan. The margin is illumined
by wreaths and figures of gold. The Birmans write
from left to right, and though they leave no distinguish-
ing space between their words, they mark the pauses
of a sentence and the full stops. Their letters are
distinct, and their manuscripts are in general very
3
beautiful. I heir language contains 33 simple sounds, Asia
and their alphabet consists of an equal number of di- '■ - y—
stinct characters, exclusive of various marks and con¬
tractions, which are explained in their spelling-book.
Their common characters consist of circles, and seg¬
ments of circles, variously disposed and combined. The
Birmans are extremely fond both of poetry and music :
their poetry, when repeated by a well-educated person, poe£!,7
is extremely melodious 5 it is sometimes in successive
and sometimes in alternate rhymes : they have epic as
well as religious poems of high celebrity, and they are
fond of reciting in heroic numbers, the exploits of their
kings and generals. It is said, that the prowess of the
great Alompra, the deliverer of his country, is record¬
ed in verses not unworthy of his courage and his for¬
tune. The members of the British embassy were in¬
vited by the maywoon or viceroy of Pegu to one of
their dramatic representations, which they applaud not
a little. “ The theatre was the open court, splendid¬
ly illuminated by lamps and torches 3 the maywoon
and his lady sat in a projecting balcony of his house 3
we occupied seats below him, raised about two feet from
the ground, and covered with carpets 3 a crowd of
spectators were seated in a circle round the stage. The
performance began immediately on our arrival, and far
excelled any Indian drama that I had ever seen. The
dialogue was spirited without rant, and the action ani¬
mated without being extravagant 3 the dresses of the
principal performers were showy and becoming. I was
told that the best actors were natives of Siam, a nation,
which though unable to contend with the Birmans and
Peguers in war, have cultivated with more success the
refined arts of peace. By way of interlude between
the acts, a clownish buffoon entertained the audience
with a recital of different passages 3 and by grimace
and frequent alterations of tone and countenance, ex¬
torted loud peals of laughter from the spectators. The
Birmans seem to delight in mimickry, and are verv ex¬
pert in the practice, possessing uncommon versatility of
countenance. An eminent practitioner of this art, amu¬
sed us with a specimen of his skill, at. our own house,
and, to our no small astonishment, exhibited a masterly
display of the passions in pantomimic looks and gesture 3
the transitions he made from pain to pleasure, from joy
to despair, Irom rage to mildness, from laughter to
tears 3 his expression of terror, and, above all, his look
of idiotism, were performances of first-rate merit in their
line ; and we agreed in opinion, that had his fates de¬
creed him to have been a native of Great Britain, his
genius would have rivalled that of any modern come¬
dian of the English stage.
“ The plot, of the drama performed this evening, I
understood, was taken from the sacred text of the
Ramayen of Balmiec (called by Sir William Jones,
Valmiec) a work of high authority among the Hindoos.
It represented the battles of the holy Ram, and the
impious Rahwaan, chief of the Rakuss or demons, to
revenge the rape of Secta, the wife of Ram, who was
forcibly carried away by Rahwaan, and bound under
the spells of enchantment. Vicissitudes of fortune took
place during the performance that seemed highly in¬
teresting to the audience. Ram was at length wounded
by a poisoned arrow 3 the sages skilled in medicine con¬
sulted on his cure 3 they discovered, that on the moun¬
tain Indragurry grew a certain tree that produced a
gum,
A s I [ 757 ] A S I
gum, which was a sovereign antidote against the dele¬
terious effects of poison j but the distance was so great
that none could be found to undertake the journey. At
length Honymaan, leader of the army of apes, offered
to go in quest of it. When he arrived at the place, be¬
ing uncertain which was the tree, he took up half the
mountain and transported it with ease : thus was the
cure of Kam happily effected, the enchantment was bro¬
ken, and the piece ended with a dance and songs of tri¬
umph.”
When at the capital, Ummerapoora, our author de¬
scribes his visit to the royal library in the following
terms : “ Having finished our introductory visits to the
different members of the royal family, we had now
leisure to gratify our curiosity by viewing whatever the
capital contained that was most deserving the notice of
strangers. The day not being far advanced, we walk¬
ed from the palace of Pagahm to see the pedigaut tick,
or royal library : it is situated at the north-west angle
of the fort, in the centre of a court paved with broad
flags, and close to a very handsome kioum or mona¬
stery. Before we entered the library we ascended the
kioum, and found the inside correspond with the exter¬
nal appearance ; the building was spacious and richly
gilded ; the pillars, the ceiling, and the pannels, were
entirely covered with gold leaf; and the image of
Gaudma shone with a brilliant lustre *, a balustrade of
wood, minutely and beautifully carved, protected the
image from intruders. On the pannels of the walls
were represented figures of inferior agents of the divi¬
nity, and of prostrate rhahaans in the act of devotion ;
these were all shaped in fret-work in the wood, and
were of no contemptible workmanship: a well wrought
foliage of the same bordered the pannels. The image
of Gaudma in this kioum, was large, and made of mar¬
ble j it was seated on a broad pedestal entirely gilded ;
in front of which, within the balustrade, stood a hand¬
some girandole of cut glass of European manufacture :
near the image was a gilded couch, which we were in¬
formed was the customary bed of the principal rhahaan,
or head of all the Birman priesthood, when he chose to
pass the night in the fort, which rarely happened. It
was splendidly gilt •, the bottom, however, was only a
bare board ; pillars were not wanting, for there were
twm, but they were made of wood. A mat spread on
the floor is the highest luxury of repose in which the
rhahaans indulge.
“ From the kioum we proceeded to visit the adjacent
library j it is a large brick building raised on a terrace,
and covered by a roof of a very compound structure.
It consists of one square room, with an enclosed veranda,
or gallery, surrounding it: this room w7as locked, and
as we had not brought a special order for seeing it, the
person who had the care of the library said, that he was
not at liberty to open the doors; but assured us, that
there was nothing in the inside different from what we
might see in the veranda, where a number of large
chests, curiously ornamented with gilding and japan,
were ranged in regular order against the wall; I count¬
ed 50, but there were many more, probably not less
than 100. The books were regularly classed, and the
contents of each chest were written in gold letters on
the lid. The librarian opened two, and shewed me
some very beautiful writing on thin leaves of ivory,
the margins of which were ornamented with flowers of
gold neatly executed. I saw also some - books wiitten As;a<
in the ancient Pali, the religious text. Every thing —v—
seemed to be arranged with perfect regularity, and I
was informed, that there were books upon divers sub¬
jects ; more on divinity than any other ; but history,
music, medicine, painting, and romance, had their se¬
parate treatises. The volumes were disposed under
distinct heads, regularly numbered; and if all the other
chests were as well filled as those that were submitted
to our inspection, it is not improbable that his Birman
majesty may possess a more numerous library than any
potentate from the banks of the Danube to the borders
of China.”
Books were afterwards brought for sale to the gentle¬
men of the embassy, but always clandestinely; and an
exorbitant price was demanded, under pretence that if
any person were discovered to have sold books to a
foreigner without permission, he would be liable to a
severe penalty. A man was actually imprisoned for an
offence of this nature, upon which Captain Symes sent
a message to the chief woongee or prime minister, ap¬
prising him of the circumstance, and desiring to know
whether it was illegal to sell books to himself or bis
suit ; adding, that if their law prohibited it, he would
reject such as in future might be brought, and direct
every person under his authority to do the same. The
woongee returned a civil message, and the man was set
at liberty. His majesty being made acquainted with
the affair, summoned on the following day, the princi¬
pal rhahaans to attend his council, and submitted to
them, whether or not. it was consistent with Birman
tenets, to grant books that treated of their history and
laws to foreigners P The conclave, after solemn delibe¬
ration, determined in the affirmative, and added, that it
was not only admissible, but laudable, for the dissemina¬
tion of knowledge. His majesty was thereupon pleased
to order a handsome copy of the Razawayn, or history
of their kings, and of the Dhermasath, or code of laws,
to be delivered to Captain Symes from the royal libra¬
ry ; each was contained in one large volume, written in
a beautiful manner, and handsomely adorned with paint¬
ing and gilding. x^g
Music is a science that is held in no small degree of Music,
estimation throughout the Birman empire, and is very
generally cultivated ; there is scarcely even a boatman
who does not possess an instrument of some sort; they
who can procure no better have at least what is called
a Jew's haiy, with which they delight to beguile half
an hour of a eool evening, after a day spent in severe
labour under a burning sun. Some of the professional
musicians display considerable skill and execution ; and
tbe softer airs are pleasing even to an ear unaccustomed
to the melodies of the country. Tbe principal instru¬
ments are a soum or harp, made of light wood hollow¬
ed and varnished, in shape somewhat resembling a canoe
with a deck ; at the extremity, a piece of hard wood
is neatly fastened, which tapers to the end, and rising
curves over the body of the harp ; from this curvature
the strings, usually made of wire, are extended to a
bridge on the belly of the instrument; there are two
sounding holes, one on each side of the bridge, 'i he
size of the soum varies from two to five feet in length.
The turr resembles our violin. It has only three
strings, and is played on with a bow. The pullaway
is a common flagelet. The kyezoup is a collection of
A SI [ 758 ] A S I
Asia. about 18 cymbals, suspended in a bamboo frame : these
v ""■ v~— cymbals, varying in size, produce modulated grada¬
tions of sounds. The patola, or guitar of the Birmans,
is said to be a curious instrument : it is the exact form,
in miniature, of a crocodile 5 the bo.dy of which is hol¬
low, with sounding holes in the back ; three strings of
wire extend from the shoulder to the tail, to which
they are fastened. It is played on by the fingers, and
is generally used to accompany the voice. The bondaw
is a collection of drums, oblong in form, and varying in
size, which are suspended perpendicularly in a wooden
frame by leather thongs. The whole machine is about
five feet in diameter, and four feet high. The perform¬
er stands in the centre, and beats on the drums with a
small stick. This instrument is always introduced when
there is a full band, and is much used in processions, of
which the Birmans are very fond, being carried by two
men, while the performer shuffles along in the inside,
playing as he goes. The heem is the pipe of Pan,
formed of reeds neatly joined together, and sounded by
a common mouth-piece. It produces a very plaintive
139 melody.
'lime. The Birmans divide their year into 12 months,
which, strictly speaking, cannot be called synodical,
although they comprehend the same number of days.
A revolution of the moon, in passing from one con¬
junction with the sun to another, is performed in 29
days 12 hours and 44 minutes: but the Birman luna¬
tions consist of 29 and 30 days alternately, which
causes a difference between the Newtonian and Birman
lunar account of 8 hours and 48 minutes. The Birman
months are as follows :
Days.
Tagoo contains 29
Kayoung 30
Nay Young 29
Wazoo ( 30
Wagoung 29
Toozelien 30
Tandaing Guite. " 29
Tazoung Moang 30
Gnadoh 29
Peeazoo 30
Taboodiray 29
Taboung 30
354
In order to complete a solar revolution, they interca¬
late in every third year a month of 30 days, which is
called Toodea TFazoo ; in this third year the months of
Tagoo and Nay Young have each 30 days instead of
29 ; they likewise suppress or pass over a day, which, if
reckoned, would either be the 31st Taboung, or the 1st
of Tagoo j by these means the number of days in three
solar years is thus computed :
Days.
ihree lunar years of 354 days each, 1062
Intercalary month in the third year, 30
Two intercalary days in Tagoo and Nay Young, 2
Suppressed or passed over at the end of the year, 1
1095
rI his computation corresponds in the number of days
with three years j every fourth year, however, will oc¬
casion the difference of a day, on account of our bissex- Asi;
tile or leap year : of this the Birmans are fully sensible, v
as well as of many other defects in their manner of rec¬
koning j to remedy the confusion likely to ensue from
such erroneous calculations, their style or mode has fre¬
quently been altered by arbitrary authority.
The manner in which the Birman month is subdi¬
vided is somewhat peculiar; instead of reckoning the
days progressively from the commencement to the
close of the month, they divide it into two parts, and
number the days of the increasing and of the waning
moon separately. Each moon or month is also divided
into weeks of seven days each, and Sunday, as with us,
is the first day of the Birman week. The eighth day of
the increasing moon, the fifteenth or full moon, and the
eighth of the decreasing moon, are observed as sacred
festivals. On these holidays no business is transacted
in the rhoom; mercantile dealings are suspended;
handicraft occupations are forbidden, and the strictly
pious take no sustenance between the rising and the
setting sun. This last instance of self denial, however,
is uncommon, except in the metropolis, where it is
submitted to by ambitious persons with a view to ob¬
tain favour with the king, who is understood to be a
great favourer of the austerities of the Birman reli¬
gion. Minute portions of time are divided as follows :
“ The space in which the finger can be raised and de¬
pressed is called charazi; ten charazi make one piaan ;
six piaan one bezana, about a minute. The day, of
24 hours commencing at noon, is divided into eight
portions or yettee, of three hours each. These divi¬
sions of time are ascertained by a machine resembling
the hour-glass, and sometimes by a perforated pan
placed in a tub of water; they are announced by a
stroke on an oblong drum, which is always kept near
the dwelling of the chief magistrate of the city, town,
or village ; it is commonly raised on a high bam¬
boo stage, with a roof of mats to protect it from the
weather.
The ed ifice at the royal palace for the reception
of this instrument is of masonry, and very lofty, whence
the sound is said to be distinctly conveyed "to the re¬
motest quarters of the city.
The Birmans, likd the Chinese, have no coin. 8il- Money,
ver in bullion, and lead, are the current moneys of the
country ; weight and purity are of course the standard
of value, and in the ascertainment of both the natives
are exceedingly scrupulous and expert. What foreigners
call a tackal, properly fciat, is the most general piece
oi silver in circulation ; it weighs rodwts lo^gr. ; its
subdivisions are, the tubbee, two of which make one
moo; two moo, one math ; four math, one tackal; and
one hundred tackal compose one viss. Money scales
and weights are all fabricated at the capital, where
they are stamped, and afterwards circulated through¬
out the empire ; the use of any other is prohibited.
The bankers, called by foreigners pym'ons, are likewise
workers in silver and assayers of metal. This is a class
of people very numerous, and indispensably necessary,
as no stranger can undertake either to pay or receive
money without having it first examined. Every mer¬
chant has a banker of this description, with whom he
lodges all his cash, and who, for receiving and paying,
gets an established commission of one per cent.; in
consideration of which he is responsible for the quality
of
Asia.
141
Measures.
*4*
Arts.
Agricul¬
ture.
*43
Ship-buUd-
A S I [ 759 ] AST
of what goes through his hands j and in no instance
has it been known that breach of trust was commit¬
ted by one of these bankers. The quantity of alloy
varies in the silver current in different parts of the em¬
pire 5 at Rangoon it is adulterated twenty-five per
cent; at Ummerapoora, fine, or what is called/Zorwrer/
silver, is most common j in this latter all royal dues
are paid. Any person may have his silver either pu¬
rified or depreciated to whatever standard he chooses;
the nearest silversmith will be glad to perform the work,
free from charge for his labour, as the bringer, by the
operation, must lose a trifle, which the artist gains •, the
small quantity of metal that adheres to the crucible is
his pi’ofit.
The Birman measures of length are a paul-gaut or
inch, 18 of which compose the jaim or cubit; the
saundgaling or royal cubit, equal to 22 inches ; the
dad or bamboo, which consists of ^ royal cubits 5
1000 dha make one Birman league or dain, nearly
equal to two British miles and two furlongs ; the
league is also subdivided into tenths. The Birmans
keep their accounts in decimals, after the manner of
the Chinese.
The Birmans have hitherto carried few of the arts
to very great perfection. The art of agriculture, which
is the foundation of all others, seems in a very imper¬
fect state ; this, however, does not appear to arise so
much from want of skill in the people as from their
present situation, which renders great exertions to pro¬
cure subsistence by no means necessary. The soil is
extremely fertile, while the population is very scan¬
ty 5 the Birmans, therefore, are somewhat in the state
of colonists upon a new territory $ land is abundant
and cheap, while labour is obtained with difficulty;
hence they cultivate only the most fertile spots, and
these in an indifferent manner, leaving the greater part
of the work to nature, which has been very bountiful
to them. They are not, however, altogether unac¬
quainted with some useful practices ; they everywhere
burn the rank grass, once a year, to improve the
pasture. In some quarters of the country neat farms
are to be seen, with lands well fenced and divided into
enclosures to receive the cattle, of which there are
great abundance ; the fields are divided by thorn
hedges; the low grounds are prepared for rice, and the
higher lands are planted with leguminous shrubs, or left
for pasture.
The Birmans are at present endeavouring with great
spirit to improve their maritime architecture. Formerly
they used only small vessels, no better than a kind of
boats ; but having obtained farther information from
their communication with Europeans, they are now
launching vessels of considerable magnitude. When
the British embassy were at Rangoon, they saw several
ships, upon the stocks from 600 to 1000 tons bur¬
den ; one belonging to the maywoon of Fegu, about
900 tons, was considered, by professional men, as a spe¬
cimen of excellent workmanship; it was entirely form¬
ed by Birman carpenters upon a French model, as are
most of their large vessels, the Birmans having received
their first rudiments of the art from that nation : three
or four vessels of burden were, likewise in a state of
forwardness belonging to English adventurers. Bir¬
man shipwrights appear to finish their work well ; they
are athletic men, and possess, in an eminent degree,
that vigour which distinguishes Europeans, and gives Asia,
them pre-eminence over the enervated natives of Hin- —v—“
doostan.
Upon the sea coast they manufacture great quan-Salt.
tities of salt, from which the government derives a , f4S
considerable revenue. Cloths of dilferent kinds are''0 s'
manufactured by the women in all parts of the empire y
and even in the royal palace they carry on domestic
manufactures. On a visit to the mother of the queen,
the ambassador saw, in one of the galleries of her pa¬
lace, three or four looms at work. At Pegu the wo¬
men weave for their own and their husbands use silk
and cotton cloth ; the thread is well spun ; the texture
of the web is close and strong, and is mostly chequer¬
ed like Scotch tartan. At a town in the interior,
called Pakang-yag, situated on the river Irrawaddy,
large quantities of silken cloth, and of silk and cotton
mixed, are manufactured. The silk of which these
goods are made comes from Yunan, the south west
province of China, in a raw state ; the colours are
bright and beautiful; the texture is close, and the cloth
is said to wear much longer than any Chinese or In-
dian manufacture. At a town called Sumrtiei-kioum is Saltpetre
the greatest manufactory of saltpetre and gunpowder gan-
in the kingdom. From a prejudice not unusual in thel)0VS^er’
infancy of commerce, neither saltpetre nor gunpowder
is suffered to be exported upon any plea. At the sub¬
urbs of a town called Pagahm, the members of the
embassy found the inhabitants employed in pressing
oil from the sesamum seed; the grain is put into a Oil mills,
deep wooden trough, in which it is pressed by an upr
right timber fixed in a frame ; the force is increased
by a long lever, on the extremity of which a man sits
and guides a bullock that moves in a circle, thus turn¬
ing and pressing the seed at the same time ; the ma¬
chine was simple, and answered the purpose effectually.
There were not less than 200 of these mills within, a
narrow compass. From the circumstances of the cattle
being in good order, we concluded, that they were fed
on the seed after the oil was extracted. The land about
Pagahm scarcely yields sufficient vegetation to nourish
goats. 14S
Our readers will readily believe, that we perused Glass,
with much pleasure the following passage in Captain
Symes’s Account of his Embassy : “ Among the arti¬
cles of foreign trade which had found their way into
the Birman country, nothing was held in higher esti¬
mation than the European glass-ware, imported into
Rangoon from the British settlements in India. The
art of vitrification has long been known and practised
in most countries of the east; but nowhere can they
make a pure transparent substance, like that which is
brought from Europe. The Birman monarch, who is
a great admirer of the manufacture, was particularly
desirous to introduce it into his own dominions ; and
supposing that every Englishman^ must be versed in the
knowledge of making whatever comes from his own
country, he sent a message to . request that I would
furnish his artificers with such instructions as might en¬
able them to fabricate glass of a quality equal to what
was made in England. Unluckily none of us happen¬
ed to be skilled in the mystery of a glass-house ; all,
therefore, that we could do, was to explain the princi¬
ples of the art, which Dr Buchanan obligingly under¬
took j and, in order to facilitate them in the acquire¬
ment, ,
A S I [ 76° ] A S I
Asia. nient, and guide them in the practice, I lent them the
— v ' Encyclopedia Britannic a, and pointed out the article
where the process is fully explained. Baba Sheen, the se¬
cond in authority at the port of Rangoon, and the Arme¬
nian interpreter, translated it into the Birman tongue.”
As the Birmans possess within their country the whole
materials from which the best kinds of glass are prepa¬
red, there is little reason to doubt, that this active peo¬
ple would speedily be enabled to reduce to practice the
lesson they obtained in the manner above mentioned 5
and thus the proprietors and conductors of the Encyclo¬
paedia Britannica have the satisfaction to know, that
the former edition of their work has contributed to dif¬
fuse, in the most distant regions of the globe, a know¬
ledge of those arts which add convenience and elegance
to civilized life. I he utility of their undertaking has
exceeded the limits of their own foresight, as they have,
in this instance at least, laboured for the instruction
and improvement of a prince and of a people, whose
very name and existence were unknown to them when
their* labours commenced. Happy had it been for the
nations of the east, had they derived from their inter¬
course vvith Europeans no other fruits than the exten¬
sion of science, and the enlargement of their powers, by
an acquaintance with that command over the different
objects of nature, which human ingenuity has attained
in this quarter of the world *
One manufacture on which the Birmans bestow much
attention-, must not pass unnoticed. It is carried on at
a village called Kyeock Zeit, and consists of the forma¬
tion of idols of marble. Our author saw 30 or 40
large yards crowded with statuaries at work, on ima-
Maible ^6S var‘ous sizes, but all of the same personage,
i so’ 9audma’ sitting cross-legged on a pedestal. The quar-
■. Idols. ries whence the materials are obtained, are orrly a few
miles distant. The marble is brought to the village
in blocks; and after being fashioned, the blocks are
publicly sold to pious people. The largest little ex¬
ceeded the human size, and the price was said to be
100 tackals, that is, 12I. or but some diminutive
Gaudmas were to be disposed of as low as two or three
tackals. 1 he workmen were civil and communicative.
Their tools were a chisel and a mallet, and they
smooth the image with freestone and water. Many
of the idols were beautifully polished, which is said to
be accomplished by rubbing the marble with three
different sorts of stone ; the first rough, the second finer,
and the third, such as hones are made of. The work¬
men afterwards use the palms of their hands. This last
0Delation gives it a transparent clearness, far surpassing
the brightest polish that European marble ever exhibits.
Such images as are designed for gilding, are not finished
so highly; but none of the idols are allowed to be sold
Isi t0 an>r> exccpt native Birmans.
Commerce. -^n extensive trade is carried on betw'een Ummerapoo-
ra the capital of the Birman dominions, and Yunan in
China. The principal export from the Birman territory
is cotton, of which it is said there are two kinds, one of
a brown colour, of which nankeens are made, the other
white, like the cotton of India. This commodity is
transported up the Irrawaddy in large boats, as far as a
place called Bamoo ; where it is bartered at the com¬
mon market with Chinese merchants, who convey it
partly by land and partly by water, into the Chinese
dominions. Amber, ivory, precious stones, betel nut,
and the edible nests brought from the eastern Archipela- Ask
go, are also articles of commerce. In return, the Bir- —v—
mans procure raw and wrought silks, gold leaf, pre¬
serves, paper, and some utensils of hardware. A great
inland commerce is also carried on between the capi¬
tal and the southern parts of the empire, which is
greatly assisted by the noble river Irrawaddy, that wa¬
ters the country. The chief objects of this commerce
are the necessaries of life. Several thousand boats are
employed in transporting rice and salt from the south¬
ern or lower provinces, to supply Ummerapoora and
the northern districts. Up the same stream are con¬
veyed China ware and glass j also European broad
cloth, with some hardware and coarse muslins from
Bengal. Silver, lace, and precious stones, are brought
down by the merchants.
M e have treated somewhat minutely of the manners r
and situation of this people, because they form a strik- ofTh^Bir-6
ing exception to the general features of the Asiatic mans to the
character, as it has always existed among the other na- British,
tions that inhabit the more fertile districts of that great
continent. It is to be observed, that the Birmans are
also of importance, in consequence of their geographi¬
cal position in relation to the great British empire in
India. A durable vessel of burthen cannot be built in
the Ganges without the aid of teek plank, which can
only be procured from Pegu. Should the timber trade
of the Birman empire therefore be interrupted, the
marine of Calcutta, amounting to 40,000 tons of ship¬
ping, would be reduced nearly to annihilation. This
marine has already been of importance to Britain. In
I794> I4»00°. tons of shipping, almost entirely India
built, were freighted to carry rice to England, and re¬
duced the price of that article of food to three halfpence
per pound. The maritime ports of the Birman empire
aie extremely commodious for Indian commerce. Bri¬
tain possesses the western side of the bay of Bengal j the
Birmans the eastern, which is far superior to the former
for the purposes of navigation. Irom Cape Comorin to
the Ganges, is an unbroken line of exposed shore, with¬
out a single harbour capable of affording shelter to a ves¬
sel of 500 tons burden : But the Birmans possess three
excellent ports, Negrais, the securest harbour in the
bay j Rangoon, and Mergui, each of which is as con¬
venient, and not less accessible than the Ganges, which
is the only British port in the whole bay. In such cir¬
cumstances, the importance to the government of the
Avestern peninsula of retaining a good understanding
AVith these people, cannot be disputed. They are a
very different race from the timid and passive Hindoos,
whom we have conquered. Though unequal to Eu¬
ropeans in manufactures or in arts, yet in a climate
adapted to their natural constitution and unfriendly to
ours, they might prove dangerous enemies, in a con¬
test Avith whom much might be lost, and nothing can
be gained.
After this account of the Birmans and their empire, The1^-
it will be unnecessary to take much notice of the rest ofmainder of
the eastern peninsula, as the inhabitants of that terri-^etastern
tory appear upon the Avhole to possess the same gene- Peninsula*
lal character, latvs, and manners. To the south-east
of the Birman territory, the great eastern peninsula
becomes forked, or divides itself into tAVO separate pe¬
ninsulas, Avith the gulf of Siam between them. The
most Avesterly of these Iavo peninsulas, is a narrow tract
of
A S I ' [ 761 ] A S I
JUia. country called Malacca, which stretches southward
'—v—' to a great distance, till it approaches the equator. The
peninsula to the eastward of the gulf of Siam is much
broader than the other, but proceeds to a much less di¬
stance southward. The city of Siam stands at the bottom
of the bay of that name, where the division of Farther
India into two peninsulas commences. The peninsula,
beyond the Siamese territory, contains the countries
called Ciampa, Cambodia, and Cochin-China, on the
154 east, and Tonq7iin on the north-east.
Malacca. The isthmus, or neck of land, by which the penin¬
sula of Malacca joins the continent, is only about 50
miles in breadth. To the westward of it, at the di¬
stance of 260 miles, is the island of Junkseilon, which
yields considerable quantities of tin. In 1784, 500
tons of that metal were exported. Malacca itself yields
few commodities for exportation, excepting ivory and
tin. The city of Malacca, however, is a true empo¬
rium or magazine of the various rich articles of com¬
merce brought from the surrounding countries. This
coast was known to the ancients. It was celebrated
for its gold, on account of which it received the ap¬
pellation of Aurea Chersonesus. Some imagine this to
have been the Ophir of Solomon, though others con¬
tend that Ophir was a port in zlfrica. One reason
for suspecting this or some other port of India to have
i Kiugt, x. been Ophir, is this, that Solomon’s fleet is said to have
brought home peacocks. These birds are natives of
India, and at that early period were unknown in the in-
.tericr or southern coasts of Africa. It is farther to be
remarked, that on the eastern side of this peninsula,
much gold is found near Pahang. This town is situ¬
ated in N. Lat, 30 50r, in a most fruitful country, at
the mouth of a river which has an estuary of about a
mile broad. The river contains much gold. Lumps
of five or six ounces weight are said to have been
found. It is brought up by divers. Sometimes eight
hundred weight has been exported. This place, there¬
fore, might well be the Ophir of Solomon j and the
Jewish historian, Josephus, actually fixes it here.
Trangano or Tringoran, a small town a little to the
north of Pahang, is seated on a river near the sea. It
consists of about 1000 houses, half of which are inha¬
bited by Chinese, who traffic in their junks to Siam,
Cambodia, and Tonquin. Trangano is most delicious¬
ly situated amidst low hills, covered with the eternal
verdure of undeciduous trees. Lemons, oranges, man-
gosteens, and all the fruits of the Indies, grow here in
perfection ; and the valleys produce grain, pulse, sugar,
and especially pepper, in great abundance ; but only
in consequence of the industry of the Chinese, for the
Malays themselves are too indolent to make the earth
yield its full increase. We know too little of the an¬
cient history of this singular people in particular, and
indeed of the whole peninsula beyond the Ganges in
general, to be able to account in a satisfactory manner
for their present state, or their connexion with a mul¬
titude of adjoining tribes and states. The ancients
formed of the whole of this great eastern peninsula,
along both sides of the bay of Siam, a mighty empire,
to which they gave the appellation of Thince, or Since,
distinguishing them from the Chinese on the one hand,
and from the Hindoos on the other. The similarity of
character and customs that is to be found among the
whole of these states of Birmah, Malacca, Siam, Cambo-
Vol. II. Part II. f
dia, Cochin-China, and Tonquin, render the existence of
such an ancient empire extremely probable. It may have •——y—
been destroyed by Tartar conquest orinternal revolutions,
and the inhabitants may have lost a great part of the
civilization, and a multitude of the arts, which they
once possessed. That this last supposition is not only
probable, but in some degree true, is sufficiently de¬
monstrated by a fact mentioned by Captain Symes, in
the account already noticed, of his embassy to Umme-
rapoora. He saw in many places beautiful vaults and
arches formed of stone or brick, supporting lofty build¬
ings j but he learned, that the art of constructing
vaults or arches is at present entirely lost in the coun¬
try, and that no Birman workman will at the present
period engage to erect a building of that kind.
The character of the inhabitants of the peninsula be-Character
yond the Ganges, appears to be more strikingly mark-the Ma-
ed in the Malays than any other people ; and at some^8,
remote period, they have undoubtedly made a consi¬
derable figure in these regions, and must have possessed
a great spirit of national enterprise. They difl'er from
the other states of the peninsula only in this, that the
Arabs have converted them to Mahometanism. The
feudal system at present exists among them in full per¬
fection or barbarity. They have the same pride of
honour and delight in war that distinguish the Bir¬
mans, and that marked the character of the ancient
inhabitants of the north of Europe. They are govern¬
ed by petty chiefs, who are engaged in endless and
sanguinary hostilities against each other. Like the
Birmans, the people in their persons are robust, but
not tall. They are active and restless, and their fero¬
city in war is unbounded : No enterprise is so danger¬
ous as to deter them from engaging in it. Not only
will a handful of them in a boat attempt to board an
European vessel of any size, and to murder the crew
with their poniards; but when employed by the
Hutch as soldiers in their wars against the English or
Portuguese, 14 or 20 of them have been known to
sally from a fort, under cover of the smoke of the can¬
non j and having found their way in an instant into
one of the batteries of the besiegers, they have stabbed
almost the whole gunners while working the artillery,
and retreated with little loss, and before effectual mea¬
sures could be taken against them. The Hutch are so
cautious with regard to them, that unless in case of ex¬
treme necessity, they never employ above two or three
of them at once as mariners on board the same ship :
Yet this people, barbarous as they now are, have at
one period made such national exertions, that their
race and language is found to extend over a'very large ^
portion of the globe. To the south and east of Ma-^sj;ttl^
lacca the great Asiatic Archipelago is situated, con-chipelago.
taining a multitude of isles of immense extent. Over
a great part of these isles the Malays have spread
themselves, and their language is spoken. The first
island to the south and south-west of Malacca is Suma-
tua, the passage between which and the main land, is
called the straits of Malacca. The island of Sumatra
is crossed in the middle by the equator : its length is
about 800 miles, and its breadth about 130. A range
of mountains runs along the whole island, sometimes
in a double or triple chain, with beautiful valleys be¬
tween them ; but unless where cleared, both valleys
and mountains are clothed with shady forests. The
j H island
A S I [ 762 ] A S I
island has long been celebrated for its gold, and a moun¬
tain under the line is called Qphii', which affords an ad¬
ditional reason for supposing that the ships of King So¬
lomon came to this quarter of the world. It is 13,842
feet high, or two miles and 1094 yards. The Malays
upon the island are said to be skilful artists in works of
fillagree, in both gold and silver. Sugar, ivory, teek
wood, and all the other tropical productions, are found
upon it; but its climate is extremely destructive to
Europeans. Though no snow is ever seen on the island,
yet the inhabitants of the mountains, like those of other
Alpine regions, are subject to monstrous wens in the
neck, or goitres.
To the east of Sumatra, and divided from it by the
straits of Sunda, is the island of Java, in which also
the Malays abound, and in which the Dutch have
their settlement of Batavia. Like Sumatra, a chain
0} mountains runs along the middle of it, and it is ex¬
tremely unhealthy to Europeans. Eastward of Java is
the great island of Borneo, immediately under the line.
A great part of the coasts is in the hands of the Malays,
though Moors and Javanese are also found here. It
produces all the vegetable and mineral productions that
are found in the other parts of the Indies. The inte¬
rior is mountainous, but unhealthy ; and this, like all
the rest of these islands, is subject to frequent and very
dangerous earthquakes. The original inhabitants of
this and the other islands in its neighbourhood are ex¬
tremely barbarous, and have been driven from the sea
coast by the Malays and other strangers. To the north¬
east of Borneo are the Philippine islands ; and to the
south-east are Celebes and the Molucca isles, beyond
which is New Guinea, with a multitude of adjoining
islands, all inhabited by barbarous tribes of little im¬
portance in a general view of Asia. To the south of
all these islands is the vast island, or rather continent,
of New Holland, which is scarcely inhabited, though
equal in size to Europe.
Returning to the continent of Farther India, the
kingdom of Siam is situated, as already' mentioned, at
the bottom of the bay of that name, to the south-east
of the Birman territory. The city stands at the mouth
of a large river called Meinam, which fertilizes the
country, and affords an internal navigation to a consi¬
derable distance. The river is deep, rapid, and broad¬
er than the Elbe. The upper part is rocky and in-
tenupted by cataracts. At its lower part, the stream
divides into several channels, passing through a level
country, which it fertilizes by periodical inundations.
Ine country is woody. Ihe houses, like those of the
Birmans, are raised aloft on stilts or posts ; but upon
the river a kind of floating habitations are used, in
which many people constantly reside, and occasionally
move from place to place when the waters are high.
Hie capital is in latitude 140 i3/, and is surrounded
by a lofty brick wall, which has not always been able,
as already noticed, to defend it against the arms of the
Birmans. Rice is produced in amazing crops, and all
the fruits of the Indies rise up with little or no cultiva¬
tion. Logwood, like that cut in Campeachy, is said
to be one of the productions of the country. The
Siamese territory is very narrow from east to west, but
extends northward along its own river to a considerable
distance.
To the eastward of Siam is the kingdom of Cambo¬
dia, extending along the banks of its river, which Asia.
flows in a course nearly parallel to the river of Siam. ^ r—
The most southerly point of the country, being the
eastern extremity of the gulf of Siam, is called Cape
Cambodia, beyond which the coast turns to the east¬
ward, and the river Cambodia discharges itself into
the sea through several mouths, forming by its allu¬
vions a very fertile tract of territory, like the rivers of
Siam and of Birmah. The capital stands 90 miles up
the river, and consists only of one street, built on an
eminence, to preserve it during the inundations: The
present city of Cambodia, is supposed to be near the Icg
site of Thina Metropolis Sinarum, of Ptolemy and Mar- Ancient
cianus. Mr Caverhill quotes Argensol for the proof, city.
and says, on his authority, that marble ruins of an ex¬
tensive city have been discovered to the north-west of
Cambodia : yet Ptolemy relates, that it was not sur¬
rounded with such walls, nor had any thing worth
mentioning. Arrian, in his Periplus Maris Erythrcei,
calls it the greatest of the inland cities, and that it sent
to Barygaza, the modern Barochia, on the western
side of Hindoostan, wool, thread, and othonium seri-
cum. These were carried the whole of the journey by
men on foot: prodigious indeed must the journey have
been, if it is true that they went through Bactra, a
detour of amazing extent. The kingdom of Cambo¬
dia was known to the Arabs by the name of Rachmi.
It was visited in the ninth century by two Arabian tra¬
vellers, who report, that the finest muslins in the world
were made there, and that the natives wore garments so
fine, that they might be drawn through a middle-sized
ring. The same writers tell wonderful things of the
karkandan or unicorn ; but from the whole description,
it is evident, that they mean no other animal than the
one-horned rhinoceros. r<y0
The noted island of Pulo Condore lies about 13 Island of
leagues to the south of the western channel of the 1.Ju*0 ^on"
Cambodia. It is situated in latitude 8° 40'. Its form °re*
is that of a crescent ; the length not above eight miles,
the greatest breadth &bout two : the whole is lofty
and mountainous, and it is surrounded by lesser isles.
The name is derived from pitlo, an isle, and condore,
a calabash, from its production of that fruit. It was
visited by Dampier in 1686. Here Dampier’s crew
found the custom to prevail which we have noticed,
among the inferior class of Birmans, which exists over
the whole peninsula beyond the Ganges, of the people
of ordinary rank allowing their women to live with
strangers. Our poet, Prior, humorously exaggerates
the practice, and by mistake ascribes it to the Chi¬
nese.
“ In China, Dampier’s travels tell ye,
(Look in bis index for Pagclli),
Soon as the British ships unmoor,
And jolly long-boats row to shore ;
Down come the nobles of the land,
Each brings his daughter in his hand ;
Beseeching th’ imperious tar,
To make her but one hour his care.
The tender mother stands affrighted,
Lest her dear daughter should be slighted ;
And poor Miss Yaya dreads the shame
Of going back the maid she came.”
Eastward of the estuaries of ths river of Cambodia, is ciarapa.
the
A S I [ 763 ] A S I
Af}a. the small territory of Clampa, extending about 150
v—' miles along the shore : the breadth not exceeding 90.
The people appear to be of the same race with those
that inhabit the rest of the peninsula, but their chief
is tributary to the Cochin-Chinese, whom, however,
they excel in naval, though not in military affairs.
Their ships, or junks, are extremely well built $ they
are chiefly employed in the fisheries, which are very
considerable, and form their most important source of
commerce. The Chinese send shins very frequently
to the northern parts of the country laden with tea, an
inferior sort of silk, porcelain, and some other com¬
modities of that empire. They take in return gold
and columbo wood, to be burnt on the tombs of their
ancestors and relations, or before the altars of their di¬
vinities. It is to be observed, that a strange mixture
of religions here exists, in consequence of the influ¬
ence of the neighbouring nations upon this small ma¬
ritime state. Many of the people are Mahometans.
Others are followers of the Chinese philosopher, Con¬
fucius } a third sort are worshippers of Gaudma 5 and
the greatest part of the people jumble all these systems
together. They all agree, however, to tolerate each
0ther* . .
Cochin- To the eastward of its tributary, Ciampa, the king-
China. dom of Cochin-China begins, forming a long stripe of
territory along the eastern shore of the farther penin¬
sula of India. To the westward it is limited by a chain
of lofty mountains, which run parallel to the coast of
the Chinese sea, or eastern Pacific ocean. The whole
of Cochin China, beginning from the borders of Cam¬
bodia, is in form of a bow, bending into the ocean as
far as Cape Varelle, in Lat. 130, when it inclines to
to its northern extremity, in Lat. 170 30'. The whole
length of this great curvature is about five hundred and
sixty miles, the breadth not exceeding that which we
have ascribed to Ciampa. The northern borders are
defended by a wall, which runs from the sea to the
great chain of mountains, and forbids all approach from
that quarter, as the inaccessible chain itself does every
attempt of invasion from their western neighbours. The
lower parts of this kingdom are overflowed during the
rainy season ; and here, as elsewhere in India, rice is
the greatest harvest: a kind as white as snow is cultiva¬
ted on the mountains and dry soils: when dressed, it is
of a slimy viscous nature, and is made into pastes. Su¬
gar, cotton, pepper, and other Indian commodities, are
also cultivated here in great abundance by the labour
of free men, and are articles of commerce with China.
Among other commodities which are exported, men¬
tion is made of silk, and of certain kinds of wood much
esteemed in the east, such as, aloes wood, or agollo-
cha, erroneously called eaglewood, columbo, and others,
of value either in mechanics or for their sweet scent.
The price of columbo wood on the very spot is five du¬
cats a pound, at the ports sixteen, and in Japan, to
which much is exported, two hundred. A pillow of
this wood is the highest luxury of the orientalists, par¬
ticularly of the Japanese, who will give three or four
hundred ducats per pound for a piece big enough for
that purpose. The agollocha bears a good price, great
quantities being shipped for Hindoostan for the use of
the Hindoos, to burn their dead, who seem to emulate
the ancient Romans in the aromatic profusion of their
funeral piles.
The war-boats of the Cochin-Chinese are very nu- \s;a>
merous, and resemble those of the Birmans. Those -v—-
allotted to the defence of the coast are finely painted I(J3
and highly varnished, rowed with fifty oars, and carry
a cannon at the head, and two small ones on each side. cT'-li'n-
The navy of the country is quickly manned, every di- China,
strict being bound to furnish a certain number of sai¬
lors, who serve with alacrity, as they are well treated,
and their wives and children supported during their
absence. They are dressed in uniform, with a gilt hel¬
met, and a cloak which leaves their right arm quite
bare.
I he Cochin-Chinese have considerable fisheries, and
both consume and export fish in large quantities. They
make use of elephants as beasts of burden. On the backs
of these huge animals they place a machine like the
body of a coach, which conveys of outside and inside
passengers about thirteen or fourteen persons. When
the elephants arrive at a river, they take the water very
readily, and even convey their fare in perfect safety over
an arm of the sea a mile wide. The people of this coun¬
try resemble the Chinese in their persons, but they are
less in body, and more brave and active. The com¬
plexion of those on the coast is olive : that of the inland
inhabitants near the mountains is fairer, and approaches
to that of Europeans.
The bay of Tonquin begins near the wall of Cochin-Tonquin.
China at the northern extremity of that kingdom.
The entrance of the bay is bounded on the eastern side
by the island of Hainan. The tides of this bay have
long been remarked on account of the following pecu¬
liarity, that a single flux and reflux occupies a full
period of 24 hours. The kingdom of Tonquin is very
narrow towards the south, at the Cochin-Chinese wall.
To the west it is there bounded by the Cochin-Chi¬
nese chain of mountains, which soon retires, and gra¬
dually leaves a larger and larger expanse to the great
plain of which this kingdom consists. The country is
very populous, being thick set with villages. It is
watered by a river, which, coming from the north or
north-west, is called by the name of the country, Ton¬
quin. It enters the bay by two mouths, one of which
having only 12 feet water, is frequented by the flat-
bottomed vessels of the Siamese and Chinese $ but the
other being deeper, is frequented by European vessels.
The river is subject, like all others in that territory,
to periodical floods, which fertilize the soil, and enable
it to give forth abundant crops of rice and other pro¬
ductions of warm climates. The natives are acquaint¬
ed, like the Birmans, with the practice of rearing occa¬
sional dwellings for any temporary purpose. About
six leagues from the mouth of the river is the village
of Domea, usually consisting of a hundred houses j yet,
on the arrival of the European ships, it soon increases
to a large town. The natives resort, for the sake of
trade, from all parts. Houses suddenly spring up; for
being only constructed of frames of bamboo, and the
roof of palm or other leaves, a temporary town is quick¬
ly formed, in which a fair is kept as long as the ships
remain in the harbour. Here, as well as in Cochin-
China, Chinese opinions and notions prevail in a con¬
siderable degree. The religion of the country appears
to be that of Budho, or Gaudma. Here also, as
among the Birmans and all the other nations of the
peninsula beyond the Ganges, the strange practice pre-
3 D 2 Vails
»
A S I [ 764 ] A S I
Asia. vails of rendering the teeth black by means of art. All
W"'" v " persons, high or low, rich or poor, are under the ne¬
cessity of undergoing a dyeing pfocess, for the purpose
of avoiding that disgrace to human nature, of having
teeth white, like those of dogs or elephants. Prior men¬
tions this custom, but transfers it to the Chinese:
“ In China, none hold women sweet,
“ Unless their snags are black as jet:
“ King Chiku put nine queens to death,
, “ Convict on statute iv’ry teeth.”
165 _ J
Review of From the brief description here given of these coun-
* eninsula1" tr*es» ‘fc not difficult to understand the physical
pe SU 3‘ aspect of the great peninsula of Farther India, and the
political divisions which have resulted from it. Ara-
can on the west, and Cochin-China on the east of the
peninsula, bear a considerable resemblance to each
other. They both consist of a narrow tract of fertile
territory, extending along the shore, and having be¬
hind them towards the continent a large chain of lofty
and rugged mountains, which form the natural as well
as .political boundary. The rest of the peninsula is
chiefly formed in the following manner :—Several
chains of mountains run from north to south. Be¬
tween every two chains is a tract of fertile country,
watered by a large river proceeding also from north
toward the south. Each of these valleys forms a
kingdom, which is long and narrow, and bounded to
the east and the west by a chain of mountains : Thus
are formed the countries of Birmah, Siam, Cambodia,
and Tonquin. The narrow peninsula of Malacca,
however, must be regarded as a sort of territory by it-
, self, probably formed by a continuation to a great di¬
stance southward of the chain of mountains that di¬
vides the Birman from the Siamese territory. Were
it possible to unite into one empire the various nations
which we have mentioned as inhabiting this vast penin¬
sula of India to the eastward of the Ganges, the vigo¬
rous character of the people would probably render
them extremely formidable to their neighbours the Chi¬
nese on the north-east as well as the Hindoos of the
western peninsula. Any union of these countries, how¬
ever, into one state, though a possible event, could on¬
ly be accomplished during a great length of time, and
alter many struggles, in consequence of the bravery of
the people, and the readiness with which they engage
in war. Hie Birmans have indeed conquered Pegu,
but only in consequence of a long continuance of tim
most sanguinary conflicts, which exhausted the popula¬
tion of both states, and almost destroyed the inhabitants
of the conquered country. Aracan was, no doubt, more
easily united to the Birman empire ; but this in all pro¬
bability arose from its being accidentally ill governed,
and perhaps also from its vicinity to Hindostan, which
had led its inhabitants to acquire much of the feeble
character of the Hindoos. In the contests between the
Birmans and the Siamese, is appeared that neither of
the nations could be subdued, and that before the one
of them could enlarge its territory, it must nearly exter-
i6(. minate the population of the other.
China. From the peninsula of Farther India, we proceed
north-eastward to China, of which we shall not here
find it necessary to say much. As already mentioned,
it is the tract of country which forms the gradual de¬
scent from the high regions of Tartary towards the Pa¬
cific ocean on the east. The dominion of the Chinese
emperor extends over a civilized people, from the straits —y-—j
of Hainan, in N. Lat. 20° 13', to the extremity of the
province of Pe-tche-li, in Lat. 410 15', comprehending
a space of nearly fifteen hundred miles in length, and
in breadth above a thousand. Or, more accurately,
according to the information obtained by Lord Macart¬
ney’s embassy, China Proper includes a space of
1>297>999 square miles, inhabited by a population of l6
333>000»C0°* ^le island of Hainan, already mention- Isle of^Hak
ed, is at the southern extremity of the empire j but it is nan.
only half subdued, the natives in the interior of it main¬
taining their independence amidst lofty mountains. It
produces gold, and the /apis la%u/iy which is in great
request among the Chinese, for giving a blue glazing to
their porcelain. It has considerable fisheries on its
coasts. From the continent opposite to this island the
coast proceeds towards the north-east to the bay of Can- ltf8
ton, which is the port frequented by Europeans. AtCamoix
Canton begins the celebrated imperial canal, or passage
by water, which reaches from hence within land to Pe¬
kin, and the extremities of the empire ; an extent of
about 1800 English miles. Part of this inland naviga¬
tion is formed by rivers and lakes, and the rest of it con¬
sists of a canal 900 miles in length, and a fathom and a
half in depth. On the course of this internal naviga¬
tion, multitudes of populous cities are situated, amidst a
country in which the cultivation of every part of the
soil is carried on with the most minute attention and
economy. ^
Of the coasts of China, and indeed of the country at Coasts of
large, not much is known, in consequence of the jea-^Mna.
lousy which they entertain of all foreigners, and of the
great rigour with which they put in force their prohibi¬
tion to trade in any of their ports except Canton.
The next province to the north-east, proceeding
along the coast is called Foo-tcInert. The country is
hilly and irregular: but, by the industry of the inhabi¬
tants, the sides of the hills are formed into terraces, as¬
cending in a series of twenty or thirty, one above an¬
other; and these terraces are often continued for- several
miles in length. Water is forced up to these-terraces in
pipes of bamboo, and grain and other vegetables are
cultivated upon them. On an island called A-mwy, on
the coast of this province, is a vast rocking stone, of 40
tons weight, moveable by the slightest touch. Oppo¬
site to the coast, also, is the island of Formosa, 90
leagues in length and 30 in breadth.—The next pro¬
vince northward on the eastern coast is called Tche-
Tchiang. Like the rest of China, it is amazingly com¬
mercial. It is remarkable for its rich embroidered silks,
its timber, its forests of bamboo, its salt-works upon the
coasts, its mushrooms, hams, and vegetable tallow. A
great part of the province has been won from the sea,
as Holland was by the Dutch. It is guarded by im¬
mense mounds from the fury of the waves ; and these
mounds remain as stupendous marks of the industry of
this most populous nation. They far exceed the similar
dykes of Holland, as they have a much more powerful
ocean to resist than that which assails the coast of the
European low countries.
The next province northward is (jailed Kyang-Nan, wilt/silk
near the northern boundary of which is the great and worms,
rapid river Whang-ho-hoo. Among the curiosities of
this province is said to be the worm that fabricates not
the
Asia.
A S I [• 765 ]
the common silk, but that mentioned by Pliny, which particular channel.
171
North cm
boundary
of China.
*72
Climate.
*73
Polygamy
of the Chi-
nese.
lie and the ancient writers believed to be the only spe¬
cies of that beautiful production. Pliny represents silk
as a vegetable, combed from the leaves and branches of
trees. Mis error is not surprising j for the wild worms
of this province, which resemble caterpillars, spin their
webs on shrubs and bushes, and furnish as great quanti¬
ties as the domestic worms. This silk costs in a manner
nothing, and is so strong that the goods made from it
are uncommonly lasting.
From hence northward, the Chinese coast is exposed
not to the open ocean, but to a gulf, the eastern side
of wliich consists of the peninsula of Korea. In Lat.
3.8° 12' begins the province of Pe-tcbe-li already men¬
tioned, which in N. Lat. 30° takes a north-eastern di¬
rection, and on the side of the gulf finishes China Pro¬
per, in N. Lat. 40°. The capital, Pekin, is in this
northern part of the empire, about 100 miles from the
mouth of the river Pei-ho. The empire ends about
150 miles farther, in Lat. 40° 45', where the celebra¬
ted wall begins, whose length in a straight line is 700
or 800 miles, and including its windings and ascents over
craggy mountains, or descents into deep valleys, may
be estimated at douole that length. It was intended as
a bulwark against the invasions of the Tartars on this
most accessible side of the empire} but this purpose it
has never successfully fulfilled.
1 he climate of China is liable to severe vicissitudes
of beat and cold. The heat is powerful during the
summer, because a great part of the country is in a
southern latitude, and because its great extent does not
admit of its being cooled by breezes from the sea. At
the same time its vicinity to Siberia on the north, and
to the elevated country of Tartary on the west, the
mountains ol which are covered with perpetual snow,
expose it to a degree of cold in winter greater than
what is known in the southern parts of Europe. It is
also to he remarked, that the Chinese rivers, especially
towards the northern parts of the empire, have a far
more rapid current than those of either peninsula of In¬
dia : the reason is, the country of China is itself much
more elevated than India. It rises far more suddenly
from the Pacific ocean than India does from its own
seas. Hence it is enabled to oppose a more powerful
front to the waters which wash its coasts, and which,
impelled by the trade winds, would otherwise very ra¬
pidly encroach upon the land in this quarter of the
globe.
In China, domestic life is undoubtedly upon a worse
footing than in the Indian peninsulas. The Hindoos
who have not become Mahometans are monogamists 5
and we have seen that the same lawr prevails among the
Birmans and the other nations of the eastern peninsu¬
la. But in China polygamy has always been allowed,
ibis necessarily produces an unsocial mode of living,
and the jealous seclusion of one half of the human
species which uniformly attends the existence of such
a law. It is not improbable, however, that the per¬
mission of polygamy, accompanied as it is in China,
by a law of succession, which admits of no right of pri¬
mogeniture, hut divides the whole property of the pa¬
rents equally among the children, may contribute in
no small degree to the production of the crowded po¬
pulation that is found to exist in this empire. The lu¬
xury and sensuality of rich men is thus directed into a
2
A S I
Instead of becoming ostentatious
and magnificent in their dress, equipage, and houses,
they are led to expend their wealth in supporting and
rearing up very numerous families.
Hie structure of the Chinese government perhaps
deserves even more attention from philosophers than it
has hitherto obtained. They acknowledge in their
emperor absolute power in the most unlimited degree.
I rum the nature of human affairs, however, it is evi¬
dent that this power can he directly exerted over only
a few individuals of the immense society of which he is
the head. The people at large must necessarily he go-
verned by delegated authority ; and the value of the
constitution of the state, or of the mode of government,
must depend upon the manner in which a selection is
made of those magistrates to whom the imperial power
is intrusted. The Chinese emperor, like other Asiatic
princes, will naturally be led to pass much of his time
in the luxury of his palace among eunuchs and wo¬
men. Were the nomination of the magistrates of the
empire altogether intrusted to such a man, it is evident
that the administration of affairs would speedily go
into contusion, and usurpation and anarchy prevail.
This, however, rarely occurs ; and it is the peculiar
nature of the Chinese government to reconcile despo¬
tism with a regular and prudent administration of af¬
fairs, and the luxury and weakness of the prince, with
fidelity and ability on the part of his ministers. Fo¬
reign conquest does not alter this order of things. The
strangers speedily coalesce with the vanquished people,
and the conqueror submits his arbitrary will to the cu¬
stoms that he finds established among a wealthy and a
numerous people. Hence the civilization of China has
existed from the remotest antiquity. It has had pe¬
riods of interruption and of anarchy, during which the
nation has submitted to strangers j but these strangers
soon ceased to he known as such. The ancient laws
of the empire, by the admiration which they excited,
subdued the minds of the barbarians, whose arms had
proved irresistible.
The ostensible maxim of the Chinese government or
constitution is this: that paternal authority is in all situ¬
ations to be respected and implicitly obeyed j that the
emperor is the father of the people, and to be regard¬
ed with boundless reverence as such j that all inferior
magistrates are to he regarded in the same point of
view j and the severities they inflict are to be consider¬
ed not as the punishment of criminals, but as the chas¬
tisement of children intended for their benefit. From
the nature of the human character, however, it is evi¬
dent that this fiction, applied to a Tartarian conqueror
recently seated upon the throne, would only go a short
way to preserve the tranquillity of the state, and that,
even under a long,established line of hereditary princes,
it would have little effect in restraining the ambition
of enterprising individuals, or in preserving the submis¬
sion of a discontented people. It may operate at times
perhaps as a salutary prejudice on the minds of the
weak and ignorant, or it may afford a plausible justifii
cation of that implicit obedience in the people, and ab¬
solute power in the prince, which are established and
maintained by more powerful means j but. farther its
influence can scarcely extend.
The radical principle of the political constitution of
China must consist of a more powerful and efficient
principle.
Asia.
Gliinese go-
verumeut.
AST [ 7
Asia. principle, which appears to be this:—The law, or an-
—v., cJent; custom of China, so arranges affairs, that the best
informed nien in the country, and those whose charac¬
ters are most unexceptionable, shall at all times possess
the power of the state and the administration of public
business. Literature there affords the means of ad¬
vancement 5 and China affords the singular example of
a country governed by its men of letters. In this em¬
pire no order of nobility or of magistracy is hereditary.
The whole country, however, is ruled by a privileged
class of individuals called Mandarins, and it is upon
the mode in which this ruling class is nominated, or
selected from the mass of the people, that the peculia¬
rity of the Chinese constitution and its whole value de¬
pend. There are two sets of mandarins, the civil and
the military, who are employed in these different de-
partments of the public service. Of each department
there are six or seven classes or orders of mandarins,
ascending above each other in a regular gradation of
rank. The son of the lowest person in the state is al¬
lowed at certain appointed periods to present himself
for trial before the mandarins of his district, either ci¬
vil or military. If his character is without reproach,
and if after various examinations, his learning or skill
in the appointed exercises appear complete, he is ad¬
mitted to the rank of a mandarin of the lowest order,
which makes him a candidate for certain public offices,
as the emperor, unless in very singular cases, only con¬
fers public employments upon mandarins thus found
duly qualified. After a certain time he may present
himself for trial in his district before the next superior
order of mandarins, and, if received into their num¬
ber, his rank in society is proportionably augmented,
and he becomes a candidate for still higher employ¬
ments. He may thus ascend by force of talents, and
of an unblemished reputation, through all the orders of
mandarins, till he is enrolled in the highest class, out
of which the ministers of state, governors of provinces,
and commanders of armies are appointed. In the dif¬
ferent examinations and trials, favour or hereditary in¬
terest can give little assistance to the candidate ; for no
mandarin ever holds an office in the province where he
was born ; so that the judges cannot be the kindred of
the persons who appear before them for examination or
trial.
Apparent One would almost suppose that such a constitution
perfection must be absolutely perfect. The establishment of a
nese coil-1" *ierec'‘tary reigning family at its head represses inordi-
stitution. nate. amhition, and prevents military usurpations by
soldiers of fortune. As the emperor possesses the power
of appointing any one of the imperii'] family as his suc¬
cessor, the hazard is avoided of having at any time an
idiot or an infant placed at the head of the state. The
expence of his court ean be of little importance in this
mighty empire. The absolute power ascribed to him
can do little harm, as he is at all times surrounded by
the ablest and most virtuous men of the nation. The
manners of the people cannot become corrupted, be¬
cause vice is not kept in countenance by the bad ex¬
ample of powerful men ; as distinction and power can
only be attained by persons whose integrity of conduct
is proved to the satisfaction of men of advanced age,
who have themselves risen to eminence by the accom¬
plishments of their minds and the purity of their lives.
It must be difficult, or almost impossible, to disturb the
66 ] A S I
internal tranquillity of such a nation, because the ablest ^,{ai
men that it contains are at the head of all affairs $ and l——y——J
the power which results from uniting intellectual supe¬
riority to the authority of office must evidently prove
irresistible. The administration, also, of public busi¬
ness will in general be well conducted, because the in¬
ferior mandarins, unprotected by family connections,
will have no means of securing indemnity for ill con¬
duct, and because their ambition will naturally lead
them constantly to endeavour to recommend themselves
to those of a superior class, whose public approbation
affords the only means of obtaining farther preferment.
Accordingly, in no country in the world has any go¬
vernment found it practicable to execute and keep in
repair such immense public works as are found in Chi¬
na. Their prodigious canals and regular roads, toge¬
ther with the immense public magazines of grain accu¬
mulated to guard against any partial or general scar¬
city, demonstrate this to the satisfaction of every tra¬
veller.
Yet this apparently unexceptionable government, Ba({ egects
which produces a numerous, an industrious, a peace-of the Chi¬
ful, and wealthy people, does undoubtedly contain innese con-
amoral or intellectual point of view, some great andst,tutlon'
radical defect. It is true, that under it men become
no worse ; hut it is also true that they become no bet¬
ter. No improvements are ever made ; arts and
sciences have remained for ages in the same state ; in¬
vention is unknown : Imitation, regularity, and rou¬
tine, pervade every order of society, and lull the hu¬
man faculties into everlasting slumber. Though the
Chinese annals extend to many thousands of years of ci¬
vilization, yet in a few centuries, the Europeans, emer¬
ging from barbarism, have been able to surpass them
in every science, and almost in all the arts of life. The
present Chinese are precisely what their forefathers
were 4000 years ago, and should their political ar¬
rangement continue for ages to come, there is no rea¬
son to believe that they will rise above their present
state. With all their literature and all the encourage¬
ment they give to it, they do not yet practise alpha¬
betical writings hut having a mark for every separate
word, it is necessary for them to spend many years in
learning to write and read. Though they have been
acquainted with gunpowder from a very remote anti¬
quity, the military art among them is so contempti¬
ble, or such is understood to be the feebleness of their
character, that it is believed an European army of
100,000 men would find little difficulty in dethron¬
ing their emperor, and seizing the government of the
country.
The imbecility of character, or the stagnation of The defect
intellect which takes place in China, cannot be ascrib-of the con¬
ed to religion as among the superstitious Hindoos, for guidon of
they tolerate all religions : they even admit of no re- ina*
ligious establishment, and the greater number of them
are supposed, as already mentioned, to he of the same
religion with the more vigorous and active Birmans.
The weakness of the Chinese, therefore, and want of
progress in improvement, is in all probability to be as¬
cribed to the manner in which power and preferment
are obtained under their political constitution. In all
countries the higher classes of society are apt to be
afraid of novelties, because their situation cannot be
made better. The lower classes, on the contrary, per¬
ceiving
Asia.
,7S
Korea.
AST [ ^67
ceiving themselves at the bottom of the wheel of fortune,
—' readily set changes at defiance, and are fond of whatever
promises to improve their condition. Hence they ap¬
plaud and patronize, though frequently to their cost, the
tearless, the ambitious, and the contrivers of whatever
is bold or uncommon. The higher classes naturally
oppose all this, and patronize among their inferiors the
qualities of caution, docility, submission, and what¬
ever is farthest from innovation or an impatience of con-
troul. In every society, ambitious men regulate their
conduct in the way best calculated to recommend them
to those from whom promotion comes. Hence in Eng¬
land, in consequence of the existence in the political
constitution of a portion of popular patronage, aspiring
individuals have often attempted to recommend them¬
selves to notice by turbulence, and by loud declara¬
tion that all was wrong and ought to be altered. But
in a society arranged like China, every candidate for
preferment must necessarily study to regulate his con¬
duct and manners in the way most acceptable to his su¬
periors, who in that country are a set of wealthy and
prudent old men. He \vill, therefore, like a student
on trial for a degree at one of onr universities, avoid
whatever looks like novelty, rashness, or disrespect for
those above him : He will labour to speak as they
speak, and to think as they think: thus ambition it¬
self will make him tame and submissive, and the pas¬
sion for distinction will render him careful to keep in
the beaten track, and to subdue his mind to an unqua¬
lified acquiescence in whatever has been long esta¬
blished. A society, whose most vigorous members are
thus constantly occupied in subduing their own minds,
and reducing them to this passive temper and to a
corresponding demeanour, will necessarily possess the
character of prudence, languor, timidity, and perpe¬
tual old age : It will hate novelty and invention, which
will render improvement impossible, because all im¬
provements are new, and the result of a restless spirit.
Could the Chinese constitution be reversed ; wrere the
first or lowest claes of mandarins elected by the multi¬
tude, or by persons of moderate wealth ; were the se¬
cond class elected by the first, the third class by the
second and so upwards ; it is evident, that the intel¬
lectual character of the people would speedily alter,
and they would become as restless and enterprising, as
they are now pa sive and stationary. That the happi¬
ness of this multitude of people would not by such a
change be increased, is undoubtedly very true j that
they might even in consequence of it he exposed to
many sanguinary convulsions, is also very probable :
but their rank in the scale of intelligent beings would
be altered, and their importance among nations would
be immeasurably increased. Foreigners would cease
to be objects of terror to a people ruled by men of an
enterprising character: To preserve tranquillity at
home, it would be found necessary to have recourse to
objects of distant enterprise : the immense population
of this empire would enable and compel it to cover
all Asia with its colonies ; to fill the Indian ocean with
its fleets, apd the isles with its commercial and politi¬
cal establishments.
Adjacent to the north-eastern quarter of China, and
opposite to a part of the Chinese coast, is the peninsula
of Korea, extending from latitude 420 50'to latitude
340} bounded on one side by the gulf of Pe-tche-li,
3 <•
A S I
Asia.
179
and on the eastern side by the Japanese gulf. Japan
extends the whole length of the coast of Korea, and
even stretches beyond its southern part. Korea is of
an oblong form ; about 100 leagues in breath, and 180
in length. Its inhabitants are a mixed people, and have
been conquered at different periods by the Japanese, the
'Fartars, and the Chinese. The yoke of China, however,
is very light, as the Chinese lean, that severe treatment
might at some period induce them to unite with the
Russians, wdio have advanced through Siberia towards
the Chinese frontiers. Korea is mountainous, and pro¬
duces most of the European fruits and forest trees j it
was protected by a wall to the north-west, which,
however, did not prevent a Tartar conquest, and is
now neglected. The government is regular, and the
customs and laws resemble those of the Chinese. The
natives carry on a great commerce openly with China,
and clandestinely with Japan, the Philippine isles, and
perhaps Java : They also trade with the Russians to a
considerable extent, and procure from them large quan¬
tities of furs, which they convey to China, and repre¬
sent there as the produce of their own country. To
facilitate their illicit trade with the Japanese, the lat¬
ter have ceded to them a small island called Susima
near their coast. As they possess abundance of Euro¬
pean goods, no part of which they purchase in China,
they are understood to obtain them by their trade with
the Dutch at Batavia.
To the eastward of the Chinese coast, and south ofLiquejo
the peninsula of Korea, are several islands called the Isles.
isles of Liquejo. The most considerable is Kintschin,
extending north and south between latitude 26° 28'
and 250 45'. It is about 50 leagues long, and 15
broad ; the east and south parts of it are skirted by
numberless little isles and rocks. The inhabitants are
chiefly Chinese, who fled from the Tartars at the time
of the last revolution ; they export considerable quan¬
tities of cowries of the same species that is found in the
Maidive isles : From these shells is prepared a white
varnish. They also export a sort of large flat shells,
which, when polished, are almost transparent, and are
used by the Japanese in their windows instead of glass. lSo
To the eastward of Korea are the isles of Japan;Japan,
they extend from latitude 30° to 40° north : their lon¬
gitude is from 1430 to 1610 east. The surrounding
seas are stormy and filled with dangerous rocks ; the
climate is changeable and subject to frequent rains ;
thunder is frequent, and earthquakes so common, as
not to he regarded, unless, which is often the case,
they produce dangerous consequences ; the summer
heat rises in July and August to roo degrees of Fah¬
renheit’s thermometer, and the cold of winter is pro-
portionably severe; the country is everywhere moun¬
tainous, and the people of a mixed race from the
neighbouring countries, but possessing a very active
character. See Japan.
To the north of the wall of Korea and of China, .lSr
I • rpt , » • t. •• 1*11 *1. 11 Cviiincsc
Chinese 1 artary begins.
It is in general inhabited by^artai,y
Tartars in a pastoral state, subject to the present impe- ^
rial family of China, who are themselves Tartars. This xhc river
country extends northward to the river Amoor or S vg- Amoor.
halien. This river takes its rise from the Keutaiham SawersKa;-
mountains, about the latitude of 490, and longitudeF^^’0”
no0 east from Greenwich ; and is here called Orion. ^mml-
Its direction is nearly north-east; and at the discharge
of.
A S I [ 768 ] A S I
Asia. of the NIrza, Avhere the city of Nertshinsk is situated,
about latitude 520, it bears the name of the Shilha.
This course it continues to latitude 52^% its most
northern extremity, where the Tungoose call it Amoor,
and the Chinese Seghaalien Via (black mountain river,
from the oak forests on the mountains hereabouts,
which the Chinese cal! blackwood'). From hence it is
navigable in vessels of moderate size, hating received
considerable supplies from the torrents rushing down
the eastern and northern mountains, as also from a very
considerable river flowing from the south-west, and
called the Argoon, which discharges itself into the A-
moor, about 180 miles east of Nertshinsk. In the vi¬
cinity of these parts the Russians have several forts.
From latitude 52,° to 47^° it flows nearly south-east,
receiving in its course a number of rivers both east and
west. The Tshukir has its source from this side of the
same mountains as gave rise to the Olekma and Aldan,
(both emptying themselves into the Lena), and flowing
nearly south, joins with the Silempid, which flows from
the vicinity ol the Ud ; keeping nearly a rvestern course
into the Amoor. All these rivers are navigable for
boats nearly to their source. The country is very
mountainous, but the plains and valleys are spacious and
fertile : the low country, however, labours under the
disadvantage of being subject to inundations and earth-
tjuakes, which are very frequent.
No rivers of any importance join the Amoor from
the east, except the two above mentioned. The Non-
ni Lla, however, a very large river, which takes its
X'ise about the latitude of 510, and longitude 1230,
makes a considerable inland circuit, and empties itself
into the Amoor at its southern extremity, about the
latitude of 474-0* Another considerable river, the U-
suri, loses itself in the Amoor nearer its estuary, about
latitude 48^°. It rises from the lake Ilinka, and has
a communication after a short day’s journey by land
with the sea of Japan. It now flows in its own chan¬
nel north-west into the sea of Ochotsk, about the la¬
titude of 52I-0, opposite the island Saghalien. This
river is well stocked with fish, and its borders are co¬
vered with forests of oak, walnut, birch, and differ¬
ent sorts of pines. The soil is very rich, the climate
mild and healthy. The whole course of this great ri¬
ver and its tributary streams is subject to the Chinese,
or inhabited by people under their protection. It w'as
discovered by the Russians in 1639 means of some
Cosacks : the Russians were delighted with the disco¬
very of a river which report made to cast up gold and
silver, and its neighbourhood to abound with the most
precious furs, cattle, and fruit: the Russian colonists
of Siberia emigrated thither in crowds, and depopulat¬
ed their former country. They founded a fort in la¬
titude 530, which they called Albasin. The Chinese
burnt it in 1680, and carried the garrison prisoners to
Pekin ; but it was rebuilt and strongly garrisoned, till
it gave such serious cause of jealousy, that the affair
was at last terminated in 1689, by a treaty at Nert¬
shinsk, upon the river Indoga, in the reign of John
and Peter afterwards surnamed the Great, and of
Kang-hi, emperor of China. Ha'd the Russians ob¬
tained the possession of Amoor, and of the forests and
fertile territory in its vicinity, they might soon have
got the command of the sea of Japan and of the coasts
of China, by descending the river with their fleets.
Lven by marching from this river as from a magazine
of arms and provisions, they could without difficulty 1 y—
have assaulted the Chinese empire, with an army train¬
ed in the discipline and the military tactics of Europe.
By the treaty of Nertshinsk, however, the Chinese
empire was declared to extend as high as Lat. 56° 32'.
Its western limit is near the lake Baikal, at the north¬
ern front of. the high region of Tartary, the greatest
part of which also it includes. Beyond this, to the
north and west, the territory is claimed by the Rus¬
sians, who have settlements in various situations, and
are in a great measure masters of the Tartar inhabitants
of different tribes. These tribes are apt to become dis¬
contented with the Russian government j hence great
numbers of them have recently emigrated to the Chi¬
nese territory upon the river Amoor. In the year
1787, there emigrated from the Russians no less than
6000 of the tribe called Tahiti, with all their cattle *
and goods, who put themselves under the protection of
the Chinese. Thus at present upon the river Amoor,
a mixed race of Chinese, and of people from all the
Tartar and Siberian tribes, is uniting in a fertile coun¬
try under the government of China, and will probably
form out of their several dialects a new7 language of
their own. The Chinese justly consider them as a va¬
luable advanced guard to their frontiers, and give them
every encouragement, by assisting them in the cultiva¬
tion of grain, and in carrying on trade with Korea and
other places in their neighbourhood.
Passing to the north of the Amoor and of the streams
that flow into it, we come to Siberia, the proper coun¬
try of the rein-deer, and of men who pass the winter
in holes dug in the earth, to protect them against the
severity of the climate. The whole territory inclines,
as already mentioned, down toward the polar circle :
but the surface of the country is various, and the coasts
exhibit some peculiarities. Opposite to the mouth of
the Amoor is the island of Saghalien, inhabited by a
peaceable people, little known either to the Russians
or Chinese. '1 he island is 160 miles long, and 80
broad. It is situated at the mouth of the sea or gulf
of Ochotsk, which has the main land of Siberia on the c
west, and the peninsula of Kamtschatka on the east.Ka^t^
The Russians are settled on both sides of the bay. This cbatka.
peninsula having been visited of late years by different
European navigators, has been described at least as mi¬
nutely as its importance on the map of Asia requires.
It is in general very mountainous j but a part of it
which is level contains a deep rich soil composed of
black earth. Firs, common pine, and larch trees of
a tolerable size, with birch, poplar, ash, and mountain
ash, cover the hills in the middle of the peninsula. The
underwoods are currants, dog-roses, hawthorn, alder,
and bushes producing berries. The climate in the south¬
ern parts is chilled by the sea-breezes, and in the
northern by the cold winds from Siberia 5 but in the
centre of the peninsula a sheltered valley produces very
fine cabbages, potatoes, turnips, carrots, &c. toge¬
ther with buck-wheat and rye. Hemp also grows re¬
markably well, but there is little necessity for culti¬
vating it, as the nettle answers every purpose equally
well. The Kamtschadels and Russians make sewing
thread of this last plant, the nettle, and fabricate from
it their fishing nets, which, if used with caution and
properly dried, serve them four or five years j the pro-
• cess
A S I [ 769 ] A S I
Asia.
184
Al«ntaa
uk«.
185 .
Their bai-
dart or
hoatr.
cess of preparing it is nearly the same as that for
J hemp. On a good soil the nettle grows to the height
of six or seven feet; the fibres are much finer, and a
thread of equal thickness is said to be stronger than
that made ot the best hemp. The country is very sub¬
ject to earthquakes, and has several volcanoes and hot
springs.
In this quarter of the globe the coasts of the two
great continents of America and of Asia begin to ap¬
proach each other. From the American coast, oppo¬
site to Kamtschatka, extends to a considerable distance
into the ocean the peninsula of Alyaska. From the
point of this peninsula a succession of islands called the
Aleutan isles, in the form of a crescent, crosses over to
Kamtschatka. These islands are most closely joined
where they approach the American continent, and the
intervals between them become more considerable near
the Asiatic shore. The concavity of the crescent is
towards the north. The islands are, in general, inhabit¬
ed ; but the natives have been subdued by the Russians,
or rather by the bodies of men who have been sent
thither by different trading companies for the purposes
of hunting and fishing. One of the Aleutan islands
called Qonalaslika is worthy of attention ; it is in north
latitude 530 45', and east longitude 193® 47'. It is
very mountainous, and the natives live chiefly by fish¬
ing ; they are of a middle size, of a very dark brown
and healthy complexion, with round features, small
nose, black eyes and hair, the latter very strong and
wiry ; they wear seal skins, with the hair outward,
fastened like a carter’s frock; they go bare-footed,
unless when walking on the rocky beach, when they
wear a kind of awkward boots made of the throat of
the sea lion, soled with thick seal skin, which they
line with dry grass. The men sometimes wear a kind
of clothing made of the skins of birds, with the fea¬
thers occasionally outward or inwards $ the skin side is
dyed red, and ornamented with slips of leather hanging
down to a considerable length : the seams are covered
with thin slips of skin, ornamented or embroidered with
white deers hair, goats hair, and the sinews of sea ani¬
mals dyed of different colours ; they also wear light
pantaloons of white leather} the men have their hair
cut short j the women wear theirs short before, combed
over the forehead, and tied in a club on the top of the
back part of the head. In wet weather, or when at
sea, they wear a dress formed of the intestines of sea
animals, the bladder of the halibut, or the skin of the
tongue of a whale $ it has a hood to cover the head,
and is tied close round the neck and wrists, so that no
water can penetrate ; it is nearly transparent, and looks
well. The men wear a wooden bonnet ornamented
with the whiskers of the sea lion and with beads. Their
baidars or boats, which are the admiration of travellers
from the ease with which they are navigated, are built
in the following manner: A keel eighteen feet long,
four inches thick on the top, not three inches deep,
and two inches, or somewhat less, at the bottom. Two
upper frames, one on each side, about an inch and a
half square, and sixteen feet long, join to a sharp flat
board at the head, and are about sixteen inches shorter
than the stern, joined by a thwart, which keeps them
about twelve inches asunder. Two similar frames near
the bottom of the boat, six inches below the upper ones,
about one inch square. Round sticks, thin, and about
Vol. II. Part II.
six inches distant from each other, are tied to these Asia,
frames, and form the sides. For the top thwarts, very l——y—
strong sticks, and nearly as thick as the upper frames,
curved so as to raise the middle of the boat about two
inches higher than the sides. There are thirteen of these
thwarts or beams: seven feet from the stern is one of
them 5 twenty inches nearer the head is another; a hoop
about two inches high is fastened between them for
the rower to sit in j this is made strong, and grooved
to fasten an open skin to, which they tie round their
body, and it prevents any water getting into the boat,
although it were sunk. This frame is covered with
the skin of the sea lion, drawn and sewed over it like a
case. The whole is so extremely light, even when
sodden with water, that it may be carried with ease in
one hand. The head of the boat is double, the lower
part sharp, and the upper part flat, resembling the open
mouth of a fish, but contrived thus to keep the head
from sinking too deep into the water ; and they tie a
stick from one end to the other, to prevent its entang¬
ling with the sea weeds. They row with ease, in a
sea moderately smooth, about ten miles in the hour, and
they keep the sea in a fresh gale of wind. The paddles
that they use are double, seven or eight feet long, and
made equally neat with the other articles.
The women of these islands plait neat straw mats,
which serve for curtains and beds •, they also make
baskets, and kindle fires readily by strewing the pow¬
der of native sulphur upon dry gx-ass or moss, after
which they strike two pieces of quartz one against the
other over it 5 the fine particles of sulphur immediate¬
ly blaze like a flash of lightning, and set the whole of lS(j
the dry grass or moss in a flame. The whole natives Oppression
of the Aleutan islands are held in a state of most mi-of the Rus-
serable slavery by the Russian hunters, who reside in“ans*
this remote quarter of the globe, and compel them to
hunt and fish in their service. Foxes and marmots are
almost the only animals that the Russian hunters them¬
selves can kill ; for they are not capable of chasing
the sea animals, which require particular agility in go¬
verning the small leather canoes in which the natives
pursue the sea lion, the ursine seal, sea otter, pox-poises,
and common seals. The sea lion, called by the Rus-Sea
sians sirootsha, is the strongest and largest of the seal
kind j it is covered with dark-coloured coarse hail*,
which is very thick and long - about the neck and
shoulders ; the hinder part is tapering, with smooth
short hail*. The largest of these animals is about eight
feet long ; they have a small white spot on the tem¬
ples, which is the only place about them vulnerable by
arrows, which hardly pierce the skin in other parts j
but if poisoned, they penetrate deep enough to desti'oy
the animal. The flesh of the sea lion is cut into thin
shreds and dried, and is eaten by the Russian hunters. ig!.
The ursine seal has a soft downy under fur, resemblingur8;Ue geak
brown silk j the largest of the species are about six
feet long; when very young the fur is of a beautiful
short glossy black, which changes to silvex-y when they
grow up, and, when they become old ; it is almost
white. The most valuable fur is that of the sea otter,
called in Russia y the largest axe about ^ca oller*
five feet long, with a rich fur nearly black, interspersed
with longer hairs of glossy white. From their value
the pursuit after them has been so eager, that their
numbers are declining fast. Indeed the destruction of
5 E all
AST
Awn,
XpO
Approach
of Asia and
America to
each other.
191
Tsliutski.
191
Capital of
Siberia, Ir¬
kutsk.
all kinds of animals that produce valuable kinds of fur
has there, of late, been so great, that the trade will
probably soon be at an end 5 and this is the only pe¬
riod at which the natives of these islands, and of the
adjoining Asiatic and American coast, can expect a
deliverance from the state of slavery under which they
have been reduced by the Russians. From the Aleu-
tan chain of islands the two continents irregularly but
rapidly approach toward each other till they come
within a distance of 40 miles at Bering straits. At
this quarter, the part of Asia that approaches nearest
to America is a peninsula, having the Icy sea on the
north and the Pacific ocean on the south ; it is inha¬
bited by a tribe called the Tshutski, who appear to be
the same class of people that inhabit the opposite
coast of America. The Tshutski nation or tribe is
divided into two distinct branches : the one consists of
stationary or fixed inhabitants of the coast ; the other
are called Reindeer or Wanderers. Of the stationary
part of the tribe the population amounts to about
3000 males ; they are industrious and neat workmen,
as appears from their boats, lances, arrows, bows, ap¬
parel, and utensils, with which they supply the wan¬
dering part of their tribe ; they dig cellars, in which
they keep their supplies of food and oil. Their pro¬
visions consist of the dried flesh of sea animals and
deer, of roots and berries. They keep the oil of the
sea animals in seal skins; they obtain immense quanti¬
ties of it, which they use for food, fuel, and light : and
also, as an article of commerce with the wandering
tribes.
Ibis wandering tribe consider themselves as a very
superior and independent race of beings. They call all
the nations that surround them old women, only fit to
he their servants. Rein deer are their only riches,
'these, and the skins of animals that they kill in hunt-
ing, they barter with the Russians for kettles, knives,
and trinkets; which articles they again exchange with
the stationary tribe, for arms, dresses, &c.
Of Siberia in general it may he observed, that the
Russians have fixed their capital in the neighbourhood
of the Baikal lake, near the northern front of the high
region of JTartary. It is called Irkutsk, and is situated
in 103° 46' 45" east of Greenwich, and in N. Lat.
52° 16' 30". It contains 1500 houses, chiefly of wood,
twelve stone churches, a cathedral, and two mona¬
steries : besides which, there are several public build¬
ings ; an hospital, a public school, a library, and a
theatre. I he number of inhabitants is about 20,000.
I he merchants are numerous and affluent, and a con¬
siderable trade is earned on with the Chinese. Here the
assortments of furs are made which are brought from A-
meriea and the northern parts of Siberia, '['here is a
glass-house near the Baikal lake, and a distillery, in
which 60,000 ankers of spirits are made in a year; there
are also salt-works At three springs, which supply the
neighbouring country. Ihe people are extremely hos¬
pitable to strangers. All kinds of food are cheap, as
are spirituous liquors, and home-brewed beer ; silks,
cottons, linen, furs, and even English cloths, are sold
at a moderate price. Many articles of luxury are
brought from China, and the country itself supports
immense herds of cattle and horses, and produces all
the kinds of European grain ; the chief disadvantage
under which it labours is the intense severity of a win-
[ 77° 1
A S I
Asia.
lati- CiimaU,
ter which lasts during six months of the year. The
severity of the winter, and its duration, increase in pro- 1
portion to the distance from this most southern part of
Siberia. ^
The first of the great rivers of Siberia towards the River Ko-
east that runs into the Icy sea is the Kovima, which vima-
takes its rise in what are called the Virchoyanskimoun¬
tains, to the westward of the most northerly part of
Kamtschatka. It flows in a direction nearly north-east
about 1800 Russian versts, each verst being about three
quarters of an English mile. Different Russian villages
are situated upon it, or upon the different streams that
fall into it. Of these it may be observed, that the village
called Virchnih in N. Lat. 65° 28' 25", and E. Long.
153° 24' 30". Seredni, another village upon the same
river farther down to the north, is in N. Lat. 67° 10'
14". A third village, containing 70 houses and a
church, called Neixs/ini, is in N. Lat. 68° 17' 14", and
E. Long. 163° 17' 30".
To give a correct idea of the climate of these
tudes, we shall state the temperature at Virchni,as ob¬
served during nine days of the month of November
1786, old stile, by Martin Sauer, secretary to a Russian
expedition, sent to attempt to navigate the Icy sea ; the
observations appear to have been made with a spirit
thermometer of Reaumur.
Deg. Wind. Deg. Wind.
Nov. 22. 4 A. M. 39I S. E.
4 A. M. 38^ S. VY. light 8 404-
airs. 12 M. 40!
8 P. M. 404.
12 — 414.
Nov. 27.
4 A. M. 404 N. E.
6 404 Calm.
8 — 40
12 M. 38
4 P- M. 39
8 40
12 40-4-
12 M.
4 P. M. 39 S. S. E.
6 394
8 394
12 40
Nov. 23.
4.A. M. 374 ■
6 36
8  32
12 M. 32 S. E.
4 P. M. 324
6 324
8 304
12 33
Nov. 24.
4 A. M. 34 N.
6 35
8 —— 36
12 M. 354
6 P.M. 35
12 36
Nov. 25.
4 A. M. 344 S. W. little
wind.
2 M. 344 N. W. ditto
4 P. M. 35
6 36
8 37
12 38
at six A. M
Nov. 28.
4 A. M. 374 E. N. E.
  33 S.E.
M. 324
P. M. 31
 304
 314
 324
 364
8
12
4
6
8
9
12
Nov. 29.
6 A. M. 384 to 39
Nov. 30.
6 A. M. 354 S. S. W. lit¬
tle wind.
• 8 33
12M. 314
M. 314
— 32
— 32
4?
8
12
*95
On the 22d, at six A. M. nine ounces of mercury Effecti
froze in two hours; the earth, the ice of the river, thecol<**
timber of the houses, &c. cracking with reports equal
to
Vegetables
growing
near the
Icy sea.
ASI [771] ASI
to those of a musket. On the same evening ten ounces
of mercury in a stopped phial, froze in two hours and a
half. On the 23d, about ten o’clock A. M. the mer¬
cury in a stopped phial thawed, but in the evening of the
same day was again quite frozen. On the 26th, in the
morning, there was a thick fog, and the earth and the
river cracked violently. On the 27th, at nine A. M.
a sealed bottle of Astracan brandy (there called French
brandy') exposed to the frost, thickened very much, but
was not frozen. On the 28th, at noon, the mercury
thawed, but at half past ten at night it was observed
frozen. At 370 it was almost impossible to fell tim¬
ber (which was as hard as the hatchet) unless it was
perfectly dry; and in the greatest severity of the cold,
the hatchets, on striking the wood, broke like glass.
On coming out of a warm room it was absolutely ne¬
cessary to breathe through a handkerchief; the body
was imediately surrounded by a mist arising from the
breath, and this mist consisted of very small nodules of
hoar ice. Breathing caused a noise like the tearing of
coarse paper or the breaking of thin twigs, and the
expired breath was immediately condensed into the fine
substance already mentioned. The northern lights
were constant and very brilliant; they assumed an
amazing diversity of shapes, and might be heard to
shoot along.
The vegetable productions of this climate were chief¬
ly the following.
Larch.—This is the chief tree in use for building,
firing, &c. and the most plentiful. It is pretty size¬
able as far as Virchni, and the country is moderately
wooded about 200 versts lower, but the trees very
stunted ; beyond that they are in clusters on elevated
spots of ground to about 30 versts from the Icy sea,
where they cease growing, in about the latitude 68°
3°'.
Birch extends to a little below Seredni, but very
stunted and small trees.
Poplar and asp grow to a moderate size on the islands
sheltered by mountains about the source of the Kovi-
ma, but do not extend so low down as Virchni.
Mountain ash is plenty as far as Virchni, but very
scarce lower down.
Alder and willow have a trunk about 18 inches in
circumference, and grow to the height of two fathoms,
about Virchni.. They gradually diminish in size, and
cease growing with the larch.
Creeping-cedar, brushwood, black and red currant,
rose, and juniper, are met with as low as Neizshni.
Brushwood and creeping-willows extend to the Icy sea,
but never exceed from six to eight inches. The creep¬
ing cedar, or pinvs cembra, produces a considerable
quantity of seeds or nuts in cones, like the common
pine : but they ripen only the second year. Immense
numbers are collected by the inhabitants ; sometimes
considerable quantities are found in the squirrels nests
in hollow trees : in fact they are the chief food of squir¬
rels and mice. A very pellucid and sweet oil is extract¬
ed from these seeds.
Mountain ash berries are gathered, and used to give
a pleasant flavour to their drink.
Black and red currants are collected in abundance,
and preserved in casks among ice j some are boiled and
preserved. The black only extend to about Seredni,
but the red continue growing as far as Neizshni.
Cranberry.—These are scarce, and extend no further Ada.
north than Seredni; they are always preserved raw. * v—
Brusniki, vacciniwnvitis ideea, whortleberry. These
are very plenty as far as Neizshni, and are preserved
raw.
Colubniki are very numerous : they seem to delight
in such stony places as are overflowed in the spring.
They are very pleasant tasted, of a dark blue colour,
and grow on a low bush exactly resembling a myrtle.
They are preserved by boiling.
Maroshka, rubus chamcemorus.—These are the fa¬
vourite berry of the inhabitants, and grow in damp
mossy places, particularly near lakes. They are reckon¬
ed a certain cure for the scurvy, and are always pre¬
served raw.
Siccha, growing on dry stony places about the moun¬
tains, on a creeping species of heath, with short needle
leaves j they are very small, black, and stony, are col¬
lected in great abundance, and preserved by boiling.
Knezshnitsi,arcticus, are scarce,growing about
the roots of the alder and currant bushes.
The following animals are found in the neighbour-Anima/i.
hood of the river Kovima, and are hunted for food or
on account of the value of their skins.
Names.
Elk,
Leer,
Bear,
White bear,
Glutton,
Wolf,
Fox,
Stone Fox,
Ermine,
Lynx,
Otter,
Sable,
Sheep, argali,
Hare,
Marmot,
Squirrel,
Most of the
parts of Great
Price of the Skins.
2 rubles.
1 do.
1 do.
1 do.
2 to 10 do.
2 to 8 do.
1 to 5 do.
50 copeeks.
5
3 to 10 rubles, according to the
' length of the hair.
8 to 10 rubles.
10 do.
1 do.
3 to 5 copeeks.
5 to 10 do.
? t0 do. . s
kinds of birds known in the northern Birds,3
Britain are also found in Siberia at
some period of the year. At Neizshni the swallows
were observed swarming together under the eaves of
the church, chirping very much, particularly on the
2d of August old style, which is still used inJRussia 5
and on the third there was not one to be found, nor had
any body seen them depart. They appear about the
21st of May, and depart between the 2d and 6th of
August, never staying beyond the latter date. The red¬
breasted remains a day or two longer than the white.
The snow' bunting, the first bird that appears, is seen
about the middle of March, feeding on the seeds of
grass on the sandy shores of the river, and about the
roots of bushes where the snow is earliest melted by
the sun. Different flights follow after each other - for
about a month eagles follow close upon them. Swans,
geese, and ducks arrive towards the end of April, and
continue about the neighbouring lakes and rivers till
the beginning of September. The river Kovima i«
frozen over about the 20th of September, and opens
about the 24th of May, when it deluges the low coun¬
try. At Neizshni, on the 25th of November, the fiuu
5 E 2 goes
A S I [ 772 ] A S I
Asia, goes down, and does not rise again till tbe 1st of Janu-
ary, when it appears above the horizon, and this is the
time of the greatest cold.
Coa«foflhe coast ^ie Icy sea moderately high, formed
ley sea tie- projecting promontories and shallow bays, exposed
scribed. to every wind except the south. The mountains are
covered in different places with snow, which melting,
produces small torrents that rush into the sea. The
mountains are composed of granite, quartz, and a hard
black stone •, they produce moss, a kind of vetch, the
root of which is edible, creeping willow and birch, not
exceeding ten inches in height. Near the mouths of
the large rivers the shores are covered with drift-wood,
and in every place remains of huts left by different
hunters are seen. Upon the shore rein-deer are found
pretty numerous j bears, but not white } wolves, foxes,
stone lox, wild sheep, and the whistling marmot; the
gulls, ravens, hawks, black-headed buntings, snow-larks,
a few partridges, geese, ducks, and divers. The produc¬
tions of the sea itself are very few ; some seals, herrings,
whales, and a small species of salmon ; but no traces of
shell-fish of any kind are to be met with. The atmo¬
sphere is always cold and chilly, though the thermome¬
ter in the middle of July rises 140 and 160 above the
freezing point ot Keaumur. The fogs upon this sea are
very remarkable, continually hovering above the ice
at no great height; sometimes having the same ap¬
pearance with islands when seen in a haze, and resem¬
bling vast columns of smoke. Neither ebb nor flow of
the tide is perceived, and the ice is always brackish to
aoo the taste.
ThiS °Cean neVer I]a3 been’ ancJ’ in a11 P^bakiKty,
Icy sea.' never can be fully explored ; various attempts, how¬
ever, have been made by individuals, as hunters, in
search of places in which abundance of game may be
sot found, or in search of what are called the mammoths
Mammoth tusks : these are the tusks of a species of animal that
is now unknown and extinct; but which must once have
existed in immense multitudes in Siberia. These tusks
, are found in great numbers buried under the high sandy
shores of rivers at a considerable depth ; the spring
floods bring them to view by washing away the sand
that covers them, and they appear to have been origi¬
nally buried by similar floods; they are equal to ele¬
phants teeth in whiteness, beauty, and value, but very
•^Ex-different in their shape, being all bent spirally : the
p ion. largest are found on the shores of the Icy sea 5 one is
mentioned, which in direct length extended to four
feet one inch French measure ; when measured along
the bending, it was eight feet seven inches and four
lines in length ; its circumference near the root was
14 inches and 3 lines 5 the thickest part, which was at
22 inches from the root, was 17 inches and 8 lines j
the weight of the whole w>as 1151b. avoirdupois. The
outside was very brown from its having been exposed
to the weather, and it ivas crackled through the coat or
upper stratum about an inch j the inside was firm and
very white.
In search of this valuable kind of ivory, which forms
an important branch of Siberian commerce, individuals
have attempted to penetrate into the Icy sea, in the hope
of discovering untouched stores upon new islands, or
some unexplored continent. With this view one Lach-
off made an expedition from the river Yana, with some
attendants, in the year I77°> antl the following years*
Of this expedition Mr Sauer obtained the following AKia
account from Zatai Protodiokanoff, a burgher of a Si- 1 ~ j
berian town called Yakutsk, in N. Lat. 62° 1' $0",
E. Long. 1290 34'. The account is chiefly of im-
poxdance on account of the savage nature of the un¬
known region to which it refers, and the extraordinary
circumstance of the bones of animals, particularly the
rhinoceros, being found in it, which in our times can
only inhabit the warmest latitudes. Protodiokanoff
accompanied Lachoff in 1770, from his winter buildings
at the estuary of the Yana, in the month of March, to
Swatoi Noss, the northern promontory of a bay which
receives this river. 20t
“ They saw an immense herd of deer going to the Expedition
south, and observed that their traces were from the kustiaa
north across the Icy sea. Lachoff resolved, if possible,l^unter,•
to find out whence they came ; and in the beginning of
April, set out very early in the morning, with his
sledge drawn by dogs. Towards evening he arrived
at an island 70 versts from the promontory, in a due
north direction, where he passed the night, and the next
day proceeded farther, the traces of the deer serving
as a guide. About noon he arrived at a second island
20 versts distant, and in the same direction. The
traces coming still farther from the north, he continued
his route. At a small distance from the second island
be found the ice so rugged and mountainous as to pre¬
vent his proceeding with dogs. He observed no land ;
and therefore, after passing the night on the ice, he re¬
turned, and with great difficulty, for want of provi¬
sions for his dogs, regained Swatoi Noss. He repre¬
sented his discovery to the chancery of Yakutsk, and
the intelligence was forwarded to St Petersburg. The
empress Catherine II. called the islands by the name
of the discoverer, and gave him the exclusive right of
collecting ivory, and hunting animals in this place, and
in any other that he might thereafter discover.
In 1783, he went with five workmen in a boat to
the islands, and continued across straits, where he found
the sea very salt, and a current setting to the west.
Pie soon saw land to the north, the weather being pret¬
ty clear, and arrived on w'hat he called the third island.
The shore was covered with drift wood. The land was
very mountainous, and seemingly of great extent ; but
no wood was seen growing, nor did he observe the
traces of any human being. He found some tusks of
the mammoth, saw the tracks of animals, and returned
(without making any other discovery) to the first island,
where Lachoff built a hut of the drift wood, and passed
the winter. One of his companions left a kettle and a
palma on the third island.
“ This was reckoned a discovery of some importance,
and the land-surveyor Chvoinoff received orders from
the chancery of Yakutsk, to accompany Lachoft’ to this
farthest island, and take an exact survey of the same. In
1775, on the 9th PYbruary, he left Yakutsk, and arrived
on the 26th March at Ust Yansk Lemovia, or winter
huts at the estuary of the Yana. He immediately pro¬
ceeded across the bay to Swatoi Noss, which is 400
versts from the discharge of the river in a direction
north-north-east. Ou the 6th May he arrived at the
first island, which is 150 versts long, and 80 versts
broad in the widest parts, and 20 versts in the nar¬
rowest. In the middle is a lake of considerable extent,
but very shallow, but the borders of which are steep.
The
A S I [ 773 ] A S I
Ana. Tlie whole island, except three or four inconsiderable
'v~"w rocky mountains, is composed of ice and sand ; and, as
the shores fall, from the heat of the sun’s thawing
them, the tusks and bones of the mammoth are found
in great abundance. To use ChvoinofFs own expres¬
sion, the island is formed of the bones of this extra¬
ordinary animal, mixed with the horns and heads of
the buffalo, or something like it, and some horns of
the rhinoceros ; now and then, but very rarely, they
find a thin bone, very straight, of considerable length,
and formed like a screw.
“ The second island is 20 versts distant from this,
low, and without drift-wood j 50 versts in length, and
from 20 to 30 versts broad. Here also the tusks and
other bones are found $ and great numbers of the arc¬
tic foxes are to be met with on both. The surface is
a bed of moss of considerable thickness, producing a
few low plants and flowers, such as grow about the
borders of the Icy sea. This moss may be stripped off
as you would take a carpet from a floor, and the earth
underneath appears like clear ice and never thaws 5
these spots are called kaltusae.
“ The straits to the third island are 100 versts
across. He travelled along the shore, and on the 21st
May discovered a considerable river, near which he
found the kettle, palma, and some cut wood, in the
same place and situation, as they had been left by
Lachoff’s companions three years before Chvoinoff’s
arrival. This river he called Izarevaia Reka, in con¬
sequence of having discovered it on the 21st of May.
The shore was covered with drift-wood, all of it ex¬
tremely shattered. Ascending to the top of a very
lofty mountain, he saw a mountainous land as far as his
eye could trace in clear weather, extending east, west,
and north. Continuing his route along the coast 100
versts, he observed three rivers, each of which brought
down a great quantity of wood, and abounded in fish;
and here the nerk, a species of salmon frequenting
Ochotsk and Kamtschatka, was in abundance, though
not found in the Kovima or Indigirka. On this land
he passed the summer, and returned in the autumn to
Swatoi Noss.
“ I asked, whether he observed any regular ebb or
flow of the tide ? He said, ‘ that he did not observe any
remarkable alteration Whether he recollected how
the current set ? ‘ He believed to the westWhether
the water was salt? ‘ Yes, and very bitter.’ He further
observed, that there were whales and belluga, white
bears, wolves, and rein-deer. No growing wood was
to be seen, and the mountains were bare stone. None
of these travellers took any notice of the depth of the
water, nor were they acquainted with the nature of
tides.”
Opinions of account it worth while to take notice of these
philoio- facts ; partly, because no circumstance that can tend to
pheis about eltjeklate the general structure of this globe, or point
tin. Icy sea. out ]ts different productions, ought to be regarded as
unimportant; and partly, because some philosophers have
attempted, from the remains of animals which appear
to have once inhabited the dreary regions within the
polar circle, to infer that these countries must once
have possessed a better climate, more favourable to ani¬
mal life, which must have been altered by some extra¬
ordinary change in the astronomical position, or in the
general temperature of the earth.
2..
Besides the rivers we have already noticed, Siberia Asia,
contains many others; the chief of which rise near the v—
northern front of the high region of Tartary, and re- 2°4
ceive the rest as tributary streams in their passage to of
the Icy sea ; the principal are the Lena, the Jenisea,Slbena*
and the Oby. The description of them all is similar.
They flow through a country containing a very trifling
population, but which is as varied in its surface and in
its mineral productions as any other part of the world :
We shall here take notice of the Lena only, as a de¬
scription of it will afford a sufficient general idea of the
rest.
About a hundred miles west-south-west of a smallRirerLena
Bussian village called KatshugaFrisian, the Lena takes described..
its rise from an inconsiderable lake among the moun¬
tains of Altai, near the Baikal lake. It flows in a
gentle and uninterrupted stream, though here and there
impeded by shallows at a late season, to about the di¬
stance of 300 miles from its source ; when it deepens
considerably. The direction is very winding, but pret¬
ty uniformly east-north-east to Yakutsk, and nearly
north from thence to its discharge into the Icy sea,
about the latitude 710 30', and longitude 127° east of
Greenwich, after a course of 3450 geographical miles.
The appearance that it assumes is continually varying.
In some places, mountains bound the channel on both
sides, clothed to the summits with stately pines ; in
others they are barren, projecting into the river, and
turning its course, taking fantastic shapes, resembling
ruins of large buildings, towers, and churches ; the
chasms overgrown with hawthorn, currant hushes, dog
roses, &c. In some places the mountains retreat in¬
land for miles, forming a back ground to extensive
plains, and exposing a miserably built town, surround¬
ed with corn fields, gardens, and pasture grounds, with
a few herds of cattle grazing: These openings are fre¬
quent, at unequal distances of five to forty versts from
each other, and are always occupied by villages as far
as Olekma, 1800 versts from Katshuga. All beyond
is desolate, except a few huts inhabited by convicts
who have the charge of horses for the posts, and the
towns of Petroftsky, Yakutsk, and Gigansk. The best
of them is only a collection of huts inhabited by priests
and their attendants, officers, and Cossacks, who teach
obedience, and enforce the payment of tribute from
the wandering tribes of Tartars that infest the neigh¬
bourhood. The following are the rivers that flow in-
to the Lena.—The Ilga, 170 versts from Katshuga.flow;n?
The Koot, 469 versts from the same place. Very near into the
the estuary of this river is a salt lake, which is very Lena,
shallow, and works, the property of the present ispra-
vink of the district, at which one boiling produces
1080 pounds weight of salt. Marakofka, 601 versts
from Katshuga. Makarova, 690. Kiringa, 778. Vi-
tima, 1178. This last river flows from a lake east of
the Baikal. It is nearly equal to the Lena in width,
depth, and extent; and is famous for sables, lynx, fox,
ermine, squirrel, and deer. The sables of this river,
and of the Momo, which falls into it 30Q versts from
the discharge, are very valuable, and of a superior qua¬
lity., Numbers of Tungoose travel about here on
the chase. Three versts up this river are the moun¬
tains that produce talc. Specimens have been formerly
found,. 28 inches square, and transparent as glass:
What is now found is very small, but perfectly pellu¬
cid. .
joy
Siberian
tribes.
to3
Tribe of
Ttmgoose.
AST [ 774 ]
Asia, t id- All the windows of these parts are glazed with not his wives.
■—it.' The river Pellidui, 1202 versts from Katshuga;
also famous for the above mentioned animals, and the
last place that produces corn. Sparrows and magpies
are not seen farther north : they only came here about
the year 1780, after the ground had begun to be cul¬
tivated. The Nuye, 1475 versts from Katshuga.
The Yerba, 1505. The Patama, 1575. The Oo-
naghtali, 1595. The Olekma, 1822. The Aldan,
2600. Besides several rivers farther north of no ma¬
terial consequence.
The most remarkable of the native tribes of Siberia
are the Tungoose, the Yakut!, and the Burati ; all of
whom appear to have originally descended thither from
the southern and more elevated regions of Tartary. To
these may be added the Cossacks, whom the Russians
have everywhere introduced. The Tungoose wander
over an amazing extent of ground, from the mouth of
the Amour to the Baikal lake, the rivers Angara or
Tungooska, Lena, Aldan, Yudoma, Mayo, Ud, the
sea coast of Ochotsk, the Amicon, Kovima, Indigirka,
Alasey, the coast of the Icy sea, and all the mountains
of these parts, constantly on the look-out for animals
of the chase. They seldom reside more than six days
in one place, but remove their tents, though it be to
the small distance of 20 fathoms ; and this only in the
fishing season, and during the time of collecting ber¬
ries. They leave their supplies of fish and dried ber¬
ries in large boxes, built on trees or poles, for the be¬
nefit of themselves and their tribes in travelling during
the winter. Berries they dry by mixing them with the
undigested food (lichen} out of the stomach of the
rein deer, making thin cakes, which they spread on
the bark of trees, and dry upon their huts in the sun
or wind. They seem callous to the effects of heat or
cold : their tents are covered with shamoy, or the in¬
ner bark of the birch, which they render as pliable as
.leather, by rolling it up, and keeping it for some time
in the steam of boiling water and smoke. Their win¬
ter dress is the skin of the deer, or of the wild sheep,
dressed with the hair on ; a breast-piece of the same,
which ties round the neck, and reaches down to the
waist, widening towards the bottom, and neatly orna¬
mented with embroidery and beads ; pantaloons of the
same materials, which also furnish them with short
stockings, and boots of the legs of rein-deer, with the
hair outward ; a fur cap and gloves. Their summer
xoc, dress only differs in being simple leather without the
Customs of hair. They commonly hunt with the bow and arrow;
but some have rifle-barreled guns. They do not like
to bury their dead, but place the body, dressed in its
best apparel, in a strong box, and suspend it between
two trees. The implements of the chase belonging to
the deceased are buried under the box. Except a sor¬
cerer is very near, no ceremony is observed ; but in
his presence they kill a deer, offer a part to the de¬
mons, and eat the rest. They allow polygamy; but
the first wife is the chief, and is attended by the rest.
The ceremony of marriage is a simple purchase of a
girl from her father ; from 20 to 100 deer are given,
or the bridegroom works a stated time for the benefit
of the bride’s father. The unmarried are not remark¬
able for chastity. A man will give bis daughter for a
time to any friend or traveller that he takes a liking
to ; if be has no daughter he will give his servant, but
the Tuu-
goose.
A s I
They are rather below the middle size, Asia,
and extremely active; have lively smiling countenan--v—
ces, with small eyes; and both -sexes are great lovers
of brandy. They declare that they know no greater
curse than to live in one place, like a Russian or Ya¬
kut, where filth accumulates, and fills the habitation
with stench and disease.
The Yakuti, or Socha, are a Tartar tribe that ori-Yakuth
ginally descended into the country of Siberia from the
high regions on the south. A nation of Mongals in¬
habiting a part of the country near China also call
themselves Socha, and speak the same language as the
Yakuti. The Russians discovered them in 1620: they
were divided into many tribes, and the dissensions that
existed among them contributed to their being subdu¬
ed. Their number is computed at 50,000 males ; but
the population is declining. They complain of the
oppression of the Russian government; and of late, as
already mentioned, many of them have emigrated to
the river Amoor, to enjoy the advantage arising from
the protection of the milder and more popular govern¬
ment of the Chinese. 2Ir
There is perhaps no nation in the world that can ex-Their per-
hibit a greater variety with regard to size than the Ya-sous*
kuti. The affluent, whose dwellings are situated about
the meadows on the south side of the Virchoyanski
chain, are from five feet ten inches to six feet four
inches high, well proportioned, extremely strong, and
very active ; while the indigent inhabitants of the
more northerly parts are in general below the middle
size, indolent, and of an unhealthy complexion ; evi- .
dently stunted by the badness of their food, the severi¬
ty of the climate, and the want of proper clothing.
Their wealth consists of horses and horned cattle. The
private property of no individual at present exceeds
2000, all species included ; formerly, numbers of them
possessed 20,000.
With regard to their capacity of supporting them-Means of
selves, tjiey are independent. Their only necessaries subsistence,
are, a knife, hatchet (or palma), flint and steel, and a
kettle; and with these articles the ^11-providing hand
of God sufficiently supplies them, and capacitates them
to furnish the other tribes. From the iron ore of the
Vilui, they make their own knives, hatchets, &c. and
of such temperature as baffles the more enlightened art
of the Russians. This ore may be called native iron,
from the little trouble they have in preparing it. Every
utensil and article of dress they make themselves.
Tanghra is with them the general name of god, orReii^on0f
perhaps of the supreme God ; but they have other dei-tlie YakuiL
ties, whose names are in their language descriptive of
their attributes. One of these is styled Aar-toyon,
(or the merciful chief). To him they ascribe the crea¬
tion, and suppose that he has a wife, whom they call
Kuhey Chatoon, (shining in glory). They are both al¬
mighty. Another god, called Wechsyt, (the advocate),
carries up their prayers, and executes the will of the
godhead. He sometimes appears among them, assu¬
ming the form of a white stallion, or of any bird, from
the eagle to the cuckoo. It is he that intercedes for
them, and procures all desirable things. The wife of
Wechsyt, is called Aksyt, (the giver). These are their
benevolent gods, together with a being whom they
adore in the sun. They regard the fire, as containing
a peculiar being possessed both of good and evil quali¬
ties
A S I
214
Food.
Asia. ^es» and t° whom they constantly offer sacrifices.
—v " Their malevolent aerial spirits are very numerous j
they have no less than 2"] tr ibes or companies of them.
I heir cnief they call Ooloo Toyon : he has a wife and
many children. Sugar Toyon, the god of thunder, is
his minister or immediate vengeance. (.Sugai signifies
a hatchet). 'I he rest they distinguish by the names
of different colours. Cattle and horses are sacred to
the different spirits whose colours they bear. They
reckon eight tribes of spirits inhabiting Mung Taar
(everlasting misery). Their chief is called Ashary
Bioko (the mighty). They have wives, and the cattle
sacred to them are quite black : Their departed sha¬
mans, or magicians, are supposed to unite to these.
They dread greatly an evil goddess, whom they call
Enachsys, (cowherdess). She damages the cows, inflicts
disorders on them, destroys calves, &c. She is fre¬
quently honoured with propitiatory sacrifices.
I heir magicians, or shamans, are chiefly men,
though a few of them are women. Young magicians
are instructed by an old professor of the art, who con¬
ducts them to the most solitary places of the woods ;
shews them the favourite spots of the spirits of the air
and of the pit, and teaches them to invoke their power
and prevail with them to appear. The magicians have
a peculiar dress, consisting of a leather jacket, and an
apron reaching from the chin to the knees. The whole
is ornamented all over with iron plates, and pieces of
iron and brass, hanging, which make a dismal noise
when they agitate their bodies, during the fantastic but
childish ceremonies which they perform while driving,
as they say, the demons out of sick people. They use
a tambour in their ceremony, and are the priests and
physicians in the tribe.
In their roving parties, on the chase or travelling,
they only take with them a scanty supply of kousmiss,
depending on chance for the rest ; and should their
pursuits prove unfortunate, they find their food in the
inner bark of the pines and birch-trees, or the different
edible roots. Squirrels are in their estimation very
good eating, but their favourite food is the whistling
marmot. Of all their provisions, however, koumiss is
the most valued ; it is formed of mare’s milk, collected
in large leather buckets, wide at bottom, and narrow
at the top: each containing about an anker. Into
this a small piece of the stomach of a calf or colt is
thrown, and some water mixed with it : it is agitated
till it ferments, and acquires an agreeable acidity ;
and when taken in great quantities it has an intoxica¬
ting quality (See Koumiss). Of this drink every one
collects as much as he can j and some of the chiefs ob¬
tain more than 500 ankers of it. A day is then fix-
ofkou ec^ uPon by es|eh chief to consecrate his stock, which is
performed as follows :—A summer hut is built of thin
poles, of a conical form, covered with the inner bark
of birch, on some extensive meadow. It is ornament¬
ed, inside and out, with branches of the birch-tree,
and a hearth is made in the centre. Relations and ac¬
quaintances are invited to the banquet ; but all guests
are welcome, of every nation, indiscriminately. The
magicians, or shamans, take the head seats ; others are
seated according to the estimation of their seniority.
When the hut is full, the elder shaman rises, and com¬
mands one of the Socha that he knows to be qualified
(namely, that has not seen a corpse within the month,
[ 775 ]
A S I
tlS
Consecra¬
tion
miss.
and that never has been accused of theft, or bearing
false witness against any body, which defiles them for
ever, and renders them unqualified for this sacred and
solemn task), to take a large goblet, called a tshoron,
which is used to drink out of on solemn occasions, and
fill it with koumiss out of the first symir j then to place
himself before the hearth, with bis face to the east,
bolding the tslioron to bis breast about two minutes.
He then pours koumiss three times on the hot embers,
as an offering to Aar Toyon. Turning a very little
to the right, be pours three times to Kubey Chatoon ;
then, to the south, he offers in the same manner to each
of the benevolent gods. With his face to the west, he
pours three times to the 27 tribes of aerial spirits, and
three times to the north to the eight tribes of the pit,
and to the manes of their departed sorcerers. After
a short pause, be concludes his libation by an offering
to Enacbsys, the cowberdess. The sorcerer then turns
the man with his face to the east, and commences a
prayer aloud, thanking the godhead for all favours re¬
ceived, and soliciting a continuance of their bounty.
On concluding bis prayer, he takes off his cap, with
which he fans himself three times, and cries out aloud,
“ Oorui” (grant), which is repeated by all present.
then, taking the tshoron, drinks a
to his brethren of the same order,
from whom it passes to the company as they sit, except
such as are defiled. Women are not admitted into the
nor are they or the disqualified allowed any of
The elder shaman,
little, and hands it
hut
the koumiss out of the first symir, which they call sanc¬
tified, as possessing the power of purifying and strength¬
ening in a divine sense. They all now go out of the
hut, and seat themselves on the strewed branches of
birches, in half circles, fronting the east. All the sy-
mirs are carried, and placed between the branches of
trees stuck in the earth, and they commence drinking $
every crescent having their symirs, tshoron, and presi¬
ding shaman who fills the goblet, and pushes it about
with the course of the sun. The quantity that they
drink is incredible. Tournaments now begin j wrest¬
ling, running, leaping, &c. j and if any one carry off
the prize in all the achievements, he is esteemed as
particularly favoured by the deities, and receives more
respect and credit in his testimony than falls to the lot
of a common man. When the ceremony is finished,
they mount their horses, forming half circles, drinking
a parting draught, and wheeling round with the sun’s
course, ride home. Women attend, and form parties
among themselves at some distance from the men, where
they drink, dance, &c. ' il(s
The Yakuti or Socha, in their intercourse with each Character,
other, have few atrocious vices. Robberies are sel¬
dom committed ; they sometimes, indeed, lose their cat¬
tle from their straying in these wide countries. If sto¬
len, detection is almost certain, as they relate all their
losses at every public meetingj in consequence of which,
if the lost beast has been seen, information is given, and
it is traced. A thief is not only compelled to make
restoration, hut to make good all the losses of other
Yakuti during the year, whether he has stolen the pro¬
perty or not. If one is accused of having stolen cattle,
and eaten or killed them, he must either pay for them,
receive a flogging, which is very disgraceful, or take
an oath of his innocence, which is administered with
so many superstitious solemnities, that innocent persons
will
A S I
Asia. will often rather pay the damages than take the oath.
They are very revengeful of insults, and entail upon
their progeny the duty of revenge: their gratitude,
however, is equal to their resentment j they never for-
get a benefit 5 and not only make a return, but recom¬
mend to their children to persevere in friendship and
gratitude to the benefactors of their parents. They are
very obedient to their chiefs and old men. They de¬
liberate in council on all matters of public concern, as
the course which each is to take in the chase, &c.
The old men are surrounded by the rest, and their ad¬
vice is implicitly obeyed. A young man gives his
opinion respectfully and cautiously ; and, even when
asked, he submits his ideas to the judgment of the old.
They are extremely hospitable and attentive to travel¬
lers, and are very inquisitive j they ask questions fre¬
quently, but, at the same time, they answer them with¬
out embarrassment, and with a considerable appearance
ol intelligence. They are a vigorous race, accustomed
to travel in the severest frosts, and to endure hunger
with patience. They are, however, subject to some
diseases, particularly rheumatisms, weakness of the
eyes, boils, and the itch. The smallpox and measles
have also at times proved very destructive amongst
txy them.
Supersti- They have a multitude of petty superstitions, inde-
tions. pendent of their religion. Ravens, crows, and cuckoos,
are ominous birds : and, if these perch near their huts,
they dread some misfortune, which can only be averted
by shooting the birds. On the contrary, eagles and
large birds of prey are the foreboders of good } and al¬
most every tribe has its object of veneration, but not
ol worship, as the eagle, the swan, the stallion, &c.
They always take care to make the doors of their huts
towards the east j the [ire-place is in the middle, with
the back of the chimney towards the door; the sides
of the hut are furnished with benches and small cabins,
which serve for sleeping places, and for sitting on.
I he men keep upon the south side and the women up¬
on the north. Except the hostess, no woman may pre¬
sent food to a male stranger in front of the fire-place,
but must v/alk round the chimney to present it. They
never wash the vessels that contain their food j but
when a dish is emptied, they clean it as well as they can
with their fingers, accounting it ominous, or that it fore¬
bodes a scarcity, to wash away any part of their food.
Their earthen vessels are preserved extremely clean by
repeated burnings, as the fire consumes what adhered to
the sides. Belore eating any thing, they cast a morsel
into the fire. Every \ akut has two names, and is on¬
ly called by the right name, in cases of necessity, to a-
void the search of evil spirits. They never mention the
dead, unless allegorically, and forsake the hut in which
any one has expired.-
Womenand . Polygamy is allowed among them, and some have
marriage, six wives, but the first is respected by all the rest, and
they dwell in separate huts : their marriage ceremonies
Sawn-'sEx-are extremely formal. The young man, who wishes to
petition. marry, sends his friend to ask the consent of the bride’s
father, and what kalym (purchase) he demands •, that
is, how many horses and cattle, as also the quantity of
raw meat, horse flesh, and beef, that he requires for
treats, and feasts j this they call kurim; half of the
quantity is always given in presents to the bridegroom
by the bride’s father, and is called yrdy. The daugh-
A S I
ter’s inclinations are always consulted ; and, if she does
not object, the kalym and kurim are stipulated. The <<——y—
bridegroom kills two fat mares, dresses the heads whole,
and the flesh in pieces, and goes with three or four
friends to the father of the bride. On his arrival at
the hut, one of his friends enters, and places one of the
dressed horse’s heads before the fire, and returns to his
companions without speaking a word. They then all
enter the hut j and a sorcerer being placed opposite the
fire, the bridegroom kneels on one knee with his face
towards it, into which butter is thrown ; he then lifts
up his cap a little, and nods hi# head three times with¬
out bowing his body. The sorcerer pronounces him
the happy man, and prophesies a succession of happy
years, &c. Then the bridegroom rises, bows to tbs
father and mother, and takes his seat opposite the
bride’s place, but keeps silent. The meat is then
brought in, and the father of the bride distributes it
among his own friends, but kills a fat mare to treat
his new guests. Supper being over, the bridegroom
goes to bed j the bride, who has not been present, ia
conducted into the hut, and to his bed, by some old
women, and they sleep together j sometimes, however,
the bride does not appear at the first visit. In the
morning the friends return home, but the bridegroom
remains three or four days. A time is now fixed for
payment of the kalym, either at the new or full moon.
The kalym and kurim are then carried without any ce¬
remony, and delivered in the presence of many friends,
who are feasted, and the bridegroom remains again
three or four days, and fixes a time to receive tbs
bride at his own dwelling, which must be new built on
purpose j and this also at the new or full moon. All
her relations, male and female, with friends and neigh¬
bours, sometimes more than a hundred, accompany the
bride with her father and mother, taking with them
eight or ten symirs full of melted butter, and the dres¬
sed meat of three mares. They go to the new hut
prepared for them ; three men are sent to the bride¬
groom in his old hut, and the greatest drinkers are
chosen for this purpose. On entering, the first says,
“ we are come to see your dwelling, and to fix posts
before your door.” They then kneel on one knee be¬
fore the fire : an ayack is filled with koumiss, and hand¬
ed by two men to the three kneeling; each of whom
empties an ayack at three draughts. They then rise
and go out, all the company saluting them with one
cheer. Three others enter j the first with nine sables,
the second with nine foxes, and the third with twenty-
seven ermine skins j these they hang on a peg in the
chief corner of the lint, and retire. Then a number
of women conduct the bride, her face being covered
with ermine skins, to the hut; the entrance has a
wooden bar placed across it, but of no strength, which
the bride breaks with her breast, and enters the hut. She
is placed before the fire, holding her hands open before
her, into which seven pieces of sticks are put j as also
several pieces of butter, which she throws into the fire.
The shaman pronounces a blessing; she then rises and
is again conducted, with her face concealed all the
while, to the new hut, where the cover is taken from
her face. The bridegroom enters, and feasts his guests
two days; then presents all his relations with cattle,
over and above the kalym j which is, however, return¬
ed on paying their formal visits, perhaps a year or more
afterwards.
C 7/6 1
Asia.,
II9
Faueials.
isr
Tribe of
Eurati,
A S I j
aftonyards. When a child is about to be born, the bus- of the
J band is called ; and two skilful women, in his presence,
assist the delivery. If a son be born, a fat mare is kill¬
ed on the third day 5 all the neighbours are invited to
supper ; the child is rubbed all over with fat, and a
name given to it, the more insignificant the better ; for
an elegant name would only entice the demons to be
continually about it. No ceremony is observed if the
child be a daughter.
_ I he Yakut! bury a dead person in his best apparel,
with his knife, flint, steel, tinder, and some meat, that
he may not hunger on the road to the dwelling of
souls. Two holes are dug under a tree ; a favourite
horse ol the deceased is killed and buried in one, while
Asia.
210
Arts.
the corpse is laid in the other j a fat mare is killed,
dressed, and eaten, by the guests 5 her skin is suspend¬
ed on the tree, under which the body lies with the head
to the west. A magician, playing upon his tambour,
invokes the demons to let the spirit of the departed rest
in peace j and the ceremony is finished by filling up
the grave. If an elder brother die, his wives become
the property of the younger j but the wives of a younger
brother become free at his death.
Their dress is similar to that of the Tungoose, but
more complete. Their principal arts consist of work¬
ing iron ore, as already mentioned, by means of char¬
coal, rendering it malleable without any previous pro¬
cess of Jusion, and of dressing leather, which they are
said to perform with wonderful success, so as to render
it completely water-proof, in the following manner :
For symirs or buckets, they take a fresh skinned cow’s
or horse’s hide, and steep it in water a few days, when
the hair easily rubs off. It is then hung up till nearly
dry, when they lay it in blood until soaked through,
and then hang it in a smoky place for a considerable
time ; of this they make their buckets and soles of
boots, &c. The latter are completely water-proof,
and the buckets or symirs even retain oil. The legs
of boots they make of colts or calves skins, scraped
and rubbed till they be soft, then sewed, steeped in
blood, and dried in smoke ; afterwards blackened with
wood coals and fat several times, and smoked again :
they are then water-proof. The thread with which they
sew their clothes is made of the sinews from the legs
of the horse-deer or elk. They are expert archers,
and have a plentiful supply of arrows in their quivers.
They make considerable quantities of hay, and collect
berries which they preserve by boiling. To save their
hay, they kill at the beginning of winter the cattle
they intend to use for food, and let it freeze, which
preserves it fresh and good during the whole of that
season.
Another tribe of Siberians inhabiting the southern
parts of the territory, is the Burati, They are divided
into a great number of separate small tribes, and are
also a race of Tartars. They possess immense herds
of cattle and horses. They are not unacquainted
with letters, and have lamas or priests, like the inhabi¬
tants of the southern parts of High Tartary. There
are also various other tribes, such as the Yukagiri, the
Tshuvantsi, Chatinsy, &e. who do not seem to differ
in their manners and character from those already de¬
population scribed. On the whole, however, it appears that the
of Siberia, population of Siberia is very trifling. It is great¬
est towards the southern bonndary, in the latitudes
Vol. II. Part II. ^ t
*22
A vS I
Baikal lake and the river Amoor, where the
climate is mildest. To give an idea of the population
of the lower or northern part, we shall here state, from
the work already quoted, an account of the number of
inhabitants from the latitude of 64°, to the extremity Sauer's
of the north coast, and from the river Kovima west- Expedi.
ward to the Anabara. “ The district of Lashiversktton-
comprehends the rivers Kovima, Alascy, Indigirka,
and Yana, and those that flow into them : The tribu¬
tary nations are
Yakuti - - . 2810
Lamut and Tungoose - - 742
Yukagiri - - . 322
Tshuvantsi and Chatinsy - - "37
3911
'Ixibute received in 1788, amounts to 4560 rubles.—
1 he circuit is about 6000 versts in circumference.
“ The district of Gigansk, a town north of Yakutsk
on the Lena, contains one church, two government
houses, seven private ones, and 15 huts. It has a mayor
(gorodnits/ak) and his chancery, and court of the dis¬
trict {leinihoi sud) and a magistracy, although the mer¬
chants are mere trading pedlars, and only two I think
in number. Its circuit also is about 6000 versts from
the Yana to the Anabara, which divides the governments
of Tobolsk and Irkutsk. The tributary nations are
Yakuti - - „
Tungoose ... 4gp
56
J938
sables, 262 foxes, and
Tribute received in 1798,
1196 rubles in money.
“ The Russians inhabiting both districts, including
exiles, &c. do not exceed 750 males.” ^
The Russian inhabitants of the better parts of Sibe-Russians in
ria, especially towards the west, employ themselves in Siberia,
the cultivation of grain, or as graziers or carriers.
They have an excellent breed of horned cattle, with
which, as well as with butter, they supply both the
northern and eastern districts of the empire. They
are wealthy, hospitable, healthy, and clean, and live
under no controul of individuals, only paying a trifling
sum to the captain of the district for government. The
Siberians throughout are more industrious and indepen¬
dent than any Russian peasants, and live far more com¬
fortably. They are making considerable progress in
civilization, and this is perhaps, so far as the bulk of
the people are concerned, the happiest part of that great
empire.
We now return to the territory from which we setGfandTnr-
out, Grand Tartary, or the elevate’d level tract which tary.
constitutes the central region of Asia. This high
country possesses considerable variety of soil and ap¬
pearance. Towards China is an immense desert form¬
ing the boundary of that empire. It consists of sands,
that move with the winds like the current of a river.
Nature has formed three passages across them by means
of three chains of mountains, which, as in Arabia or j25
in Africa, are mixed with pleasant valleys amidst these Desert of
oceans of sand. Travellers who take any other course T°P. and
are apt to be overwhelmed with the torrents of sand,r?a<i®<r[i ;t
which are equally dangerous as in the Arabian desert.1 ‘rous 1 ‘
S F The
A S l [ 778 ] A S I
Asia The first of these communications is in latitude 420
v north, to the east-north east of Pekin j the second to
the east of the province of Shen-si $ and the third in
latitude 320, to the east of Hami, on the frontiers of
Thibet. By these roads a safe access was given
through the vast Tartarian regions, from the countries
bordering on the Caspian sea, and more remotely from
Europe itself, to caravans of merchants, who had no
other way of carrying on commerce with China in the
middle ages, before the invention of the mariner’s com¬
pass, and the discovery of the passage round the Cape
of Good Plope, had laid open an easier mode of com¬
munication. It is not wonderful, that when travel¬
ling in these dreary solitudes, the imaginations of men
should have been haunted and terrified by illusions.
Accordingly, Marco Polo, a traveller in the middle
ages who passed through the great desert, which he
names the desert of Lop, says, that during the night,
the caravans are terrified with the demons which haunt
these horrid sands and dreadful deserts ; the travellers
must be careful how they stray, for they will imagine
themselves called by their names by voices familiar to
them, till they are brought to the edge of a precipice,
and sometimes they will be entertained with aerial mu¬
sic. These romances reached Europe ; and our poet,
Milton, makes the lady in Comus, when benighted
and bewildered on her way, to speak in the style of
them.
——— “ A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory
Of calling shapes, and beck’ning shadows dire,
And aery tongues, that syllable men’s names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.”
Even these deserts, however, are not entirely destitute
of inhabitants, as a few Tartars are found upon them,
226 with their horses, asses, and mules.
Soil of Tar- The rest of this high region possesses a considerable
tarV’and variety ot soil. In general, however, though it bears
an a>. an s-abunf|ance of trees and grass, the climate is extremely
severe. The summits of all the chains of mountains
are covered with perpetual snow, which augments the
cold of the adjoining plains. Even in the southern
parts of it, in latitude 310 39', within eight degrees of
the burning Calcutta, the cold is frequently found to
reach 290 below the freezing point, and this even
within a dwelling house. The high country, as al¬
ready mentioned, looks down from its different sides
upon Persia, India, China, and Siberia, towards all
which it is surrounded by steep precipices of difficult
descent, which exclude its inhabitants from holding
an easy intercourse with these regions. Southward,
however, on the side of India, ihe mountains appear to
be most precipitous, and the approach most difficult,
lowards Siberia, on the north, it seems less so, and ac¬
cordingly it is chiefly in that direction, or by the north¬
east or south-west, that the Tartars have in different
ages approached China or Persia, and through them
the southern regions of the Indies. The inhabitants of
this lofty territory have in every age possessed the same
character, and engaged in the same occupations. They
have subsisted in a pastoral state, by means of their
flocks and herds, and upon the flesh of such wild ani¬
mals as they could obtain by the chase. They have,
at the same time, been rude, and in general illiterate
3
barbarians, possessing similar manners to their Sibe- ^s;a
rian kindred, whom we have already described, the Tnn. < j
goose, the Yakuti, and Burati. It is a singular cir¬
cumstance, however, that in the southern part of this
territory, called Thibet, a superstition should have esta¬
blished itself, which gives to an established priesthood
the whole dominion of the state. What proves in a
singular manner the influence of education upon man¬
kind, is this, that the subjects of the lama, or high pon¬
tiff of the Tartars of Thibet, are no less unwarlike and
unfit to defend themselves against invaders, than the
subjects of the high-priest, who, in the regions of the
west has so long occupied the capital of the Csesars.
This corner, however, of Grand Tartary, must be re¬
garded merely as an exception to the general charac¬
ter of the people, who have at all times displayed the
greatest aptitude for military enterprises. From this
high region the great conquerors of Asia have descend¬
ed, and under the names of Moguls, Turks, or Tartars,
have repeatedly overrun, and assumed complete domi¬
nion over the surrounding civilized nations.
The general history of the great continent of Asia jdea2^ the
may be stated in a few words. When the civilized history of
nations which occupy the coasts of it on the west, the Asia and
south, and the east, are well governed j when society revo^u'
is in a proper state, and its powers can be directed withtlons*
skill and energy for the public protection, Grand Tar¬
tary becomes a place of little importance, or is merely
regarded as a grazing territory fit for the breeding of
cattle, which periodically are brought down to the
great markets of the richer countries in which they
are intended to be fattened and consumed. The Tar¬
tars themselves, divided into an immense multitude of
tribes, are easily kept by the intrigues of their more
artful neighbours in a state of constant domestic hosti¬
lity, or they readily submit to the dominion, and en¬
gage in the service of the rulers of a better soil and
climate, to which they are at all times willing to emi-
gratfe.
On the contrary, when the arrangements of society
become defective in the surrounding nations j when
public institutions are allowed to fall into decay, and
when anarchy and weakness of government prevail, the
Tartars gradually resume their independence. Being
no longer either divided by the ai’ts or overawed by
the power of their neighbours, they acquire a con¬
tempt for their weakness, and an avidity to possess
their riches. On such occasion, if an aspiring chief of
a Tartar tribe is able by persuasion or by force to
unite under his standard a few neighbouring tribes, he
speedily becomes dangerous to the nations in his vici¬
nity, and almost to the human race. By the booty
obtained in some successful inroads, he acquires new
associates 5 the hope of plunder brings his whole coun¬
trymen to his standard, and the few who are not led
by hope, are compelled to follow and obey him through
fear. All Tartary is soon in motion, and China, Per¬
sia, and India, are desolated and subdued.
That this is a correct account or true theory of the
history of Asia, is evident from its present and past
state. At present, China, which has repeatedly been
conquered by the Tartars, commands them with the
greatest ease. The power of the Chinese emperor is
uncontrouled in the country of Thibet, which he pro¬
tects by his arms, and rules by mandarins, his depu¬
ties.
A S I
[ 779 ]
A S I
328
Story of
Mamgo.
See Gib¬
bon's Hi¬
story.
Asia. ties. Almost the whole of the high region of Tartary
1 westward to Imaus, which looks down upon the Caspian
sea, and northward along the coast of the Atnoor and
the Baikal lake, acknowledges his authority. The
same appears to have been the case during the third
century of the Christian era, when a Chinese general,
in the reign of Vou-ti-thi, first emperor of the seventh
dynasty, marched as far as the Caspian. A single anec¬
dote will sufficiently point out the authority which the
Chinese possessed over Tartary at that period. Mam-
go, a Tartar chief, whose horde frequented the skirts
of China, having incurred the displeasure of the go¬
vernment of that country, retired with his followers to
the banks of the Oxus, and implored the protection of
Sapor, the reigning emperor of Persia. The emperor
of China claimed the fugitive, and alleged the rights of
sovereignty. The Persian monarch pleaded the laws of
hospitality, and with some difficulty avoided a war, by
the promise, that he would banish Mamgo to the ut¬
termost parts of the west j a punishment, as he de¬
scribed it, not less dreadful than death itself. Arme¬
nia was chosen for the place of exile, and a large di¬
strict was assigned to the Scythian horde, on which
they might feed their flocks and herds, and remove their
encampment from one place to another, according to
the different seasons of the year.—-Between that period
and the present, however, China has been repeatedly
desolated by Tartar invasions, though it has always
risen from its ruins, and resumed its ancient power and
prosperity.
Thus Asia has been the scene of continual revolu¬
tions. At one period the Tartars have been divided
and weak barbarians, destitute of arts and of power,
and subject to the controul of their civilized neigh¬
bours. These neighbours have at the same time been
prosperous, commercial, and great. After the lapse
of some time, however, the reverse of all this has ta¬
ken place •, the civilized nations have sunk into anar¬
chy ; Tartary has become strong; its ferocious tribes
have united, and the enterprises resulting from their
union have covered the earth with desolation and car¬
nage. Thus the history of Asia has always proceeded
in a circle 5 and it becomes the duty of the philosophi¬
cal geographer to investigate the causes of this peculi¬
arity, which has attended the human race in so great
a portion of the globe. Me shall here, therefore, en¬
deavour first to point out those qualities in the charac¬
ter and manners of the Tartars, which have enabled
them to vanquish the civilized nations of the earth
from China to Germany, for so far their conquests
have reached, as the Hungarians and the Turks origi¬
nally descended from Grand Tartary, as well as the
race of princes who now rule the great empire of Chi¬
na. We shall afterwards endeavour to explain the
Arrian. circumstances in the state of society among the eastern
nations, w'hich periodically reduce them to degenera¬
cy and political weakness, and prevent their persever¬
ing in that career of civilization and of improvement,
in which the nations of Europe are now so rapidly ad¬
vancing, and to which the friends of humanity and of
science, as yet, rather wish than hope a perpetual dura¬
tion. If we are successful in our investigation of the
causes of the revolutions now alluded to, the philoso¬
phy of general history will become extremely simple,
and mankind will be enabled, from the experience of
229
Arrange¬
ment of the
following
remarks.
past ages, to distinguish the institutions which contain Asia,
within themselves the seeds of decay and dissolution, l—v—
from those which have a tendency to increase the ener¬
gies of the human character, and to preserve upon the
earth the dominion of civilization and of science over
barbarism and ignorance. 2-0
Wre formerly remarked, that the human character Causes of
is formed by its situation, or by the education which it^iveisit>r
receives. The education, however, of barbarians, or clleiracter
the situation in which they are placed, is almost en-^nj,
tirely the result of their physical wants, and of the cli¬
mate and soil which they inhabit: Hence their cha¬
racter is formed by these circumstances, and is the
same in every age. On the contrary, the most remark¬
able circumstances in the situation and education of ci¬
vilized men, and those which have the most powerful
effect upon their character, arise not so much from the
cold or heat of the region in which they are born, or
from its comparative fertility or barrenness, as from
the civil, religious, and political institutions which
have been established in it, and the degree in which
the human mind is habituated to the pursuits of an en¬
lightened science, or accustomed to make exertions for
the improvement of the various arts of life. Hence we
shall find, that although the Tartars always resemble
each other, yet in countries of equal fertility and of
similar temperature, the Turks or Persians, and the
Chinese and Indians, differ widely in consequence of
the diversity of their institutions. 2^t
Though Grand Tartary, situated in the centre of Extent of
Asia, and in contact with its great monarchies, is theTartavys
place from which the revolutions of that continent have
usually commenced, this high region must not be consi¬
dered as the sole country of that barbarous race of peo¬
ple, usually called Tartars by the Europeans. We
have seen, that kindred tribes inhabit the countries to
the northward of China upon tlm river Amoor j they
also occupy the whole length of the habitable part of
Siberia, and proceed westward to the Caspian sea, and
along the northern shores of the Black sea, to the mouth
of the Danube. Thus they range over no degrees of
longitude. Wffien a movement, however, is once begun
in Grand Tartary, it is apt to extend itself in a lesser
or greater degree over the whole of these savage re¬
gions. Vanquished tribes are driven westward before
their conquerors, and precipitated upon others, who in
their turn are pressed upon the northern nations of Eu¬
rope. At other times, the whole barbarous world sub¬
mitting to the same master, and gathering around his
victorious standard, has been known to pour down upon
the more wealthy and peaceful nations of the south. In
this way were accomplished the great conquests of the
Moguls and Tartars, the Turks, and the Huns. A
Tartar chief has been known to number 1,500,000 fol¬
lowers in arms, and to make an expedition at the head
of 500,000 horse. Zenghis Khan’s army usually a-
mounted to 800,OOO barbarian cavalry, who trode down
the nations in their progress. Considered as a nation 232
of shepherds and of warriors, the following circumstan-^auses of
ces have in all ages contributed to prepare the Tartar,
or as they were anciently called the Scythian tribes, forgee
a career of victory. ban's Hist.
The corn or the rice which constitutes the ordinary''01- n-
and wholesome food of a civilized people can be obtain-
ed only by the patient toil of the husbandman. Some 0
5 F 2 of
A S I
Asia.
of the savages who dwell between the tropics are plen-
“J tifully supplied with vegetable food by the liberality of
nature ; but in the climates of the north, and in the
sterile plains of Grand Tartary, a nation of shepherds
is reduced to depend for subsistence upon their flocks
and herds. When animal food is dressed in a certain
way, the common association of carnivorous and cruel
probably deserves to be considered in no other light
than that of a humane prejudice ; but if it be true that
the sentiment of compassion is imperceptibly weakened
by the sight and practice of domestic cruelty, we may
observe, that the horrid objects which are disguised by
the arts of European refinement, are exhibited in their
naked and most disgusting simplicity in the tent of a
Tartarian shepherd. The ox or the sheep are slaugh¬
tered by the same hand from which they were ac¬
customed to receive their daily food ; and the bleeding
limbs are served, with very little preparation, on the
table of their unfeeling murderer. [n the military
profession, and especially in the conduct of a numerous
army, the exclusive use of animal food appears to be
productive of the most solid advantages. Corn is a
bulky and perishable commodity j and the large maga¬
zines which are indispensably necessary for the subsrst-
ence of our troops, must be slowly transported by the
labour of men and horses. But the flocks and herds
which accompany the march of the Tartars afford a
sure and increasing supply of flesh, milk, &c. In the
far greater part of the uncultivated waste the vegetation
of the grass is quick and luxuriant; and there are few
places so extremely barren that the hardy cattle of the
north cannot find some tolerable pasture/ The supply
is multiplied and prolonged by the undistinguishing
appetite and patient abstinence of the Tartars. They
indifferently feed on the flesh of those animals that
have been killed for the table or have died of disease.
Horse flesh, which has in every age and country been
proscribed by the civilized nations of Europe and Asia,
they devour with peculiar greediness; and this singu¬
lar taste facilitates the success of their military opera¬
tions. 1. he active cavalry of Scythia is always follow¬
ed in their most distant and rapid incursions by an ade¬
quate number of spare horses, who may be occasionallv
used, either to redouble the speed or to satisfy the
hunger of the barbarians. Many are the resources of
courage and poverty. When the forage round a camp
°f Tartars is almost consumed, they slaughter the great¬
est part of their cattle, and preserve the flesh, either
smoked, or dried in the sun. On the sudden emer¬
gency of a hasty march, they provide themselves with
a sufficient quantity of little balls of cheese, or rather
of hard curd, which they occasionally dissolve in water,
and this unsubstantial diet will support, for many days*
the life, and even the spirits of the patient warrior.
But this extraordinary abstinence, which the stoic
would approve, and the hermit might envy, is common¬
ly succeeded by the most voracious indulgence of ap¬
petite. The wines of a happier climate are the most
grateful present, or the most valuable commodity, that
can be off’ered to the Tartars; and one of the most re¬
markable examples of their industry consists of the art
already mentioned, of extracting from mares milk a
fermented liquor which possesses some power of intoxi¬
cation. Like the animals of prey, the savages, both
of the old and new world, experience the alternate vi-
2
[ 780 ]
A S I
Asia,
234
cissitudes of famine and plenty, and their stomach is in¬
ured to sustain, without much inconvenience, the op¬
posite extremes of hunger and of intemperance.
The nature of their habitations also prepares the HaWta-
Tartars for war. In a country in which agriculture is lions,
carried on, the husbandmen are scattered over the face
of the soil, and some time must elapse before they can
assemble in a body to defend their own confines, or to
invade the territories of others. The progress of ma¬
nufactures and commerce insensibly collects a large
multitude within the walls of a city : but these citizens
are no longer soldiers; the arts which adorn and im¬
prove the state of civil society, corrupt the habits of
the military life. The pastoral manners of the Scy¬
thians seem to unite the different advantages of simpli¬
city and refinement. The individuals of the same tribe
are constantly assembled, but they are assembled in a
camp ; and the native spirit of these dauntless shepherds
is animated by mutual support and emulation. The
houses of the Tartars are no more than small tents,
of an oval form, which afford a cold and dirty ha¬
bitation for the promiscuous youth of both sexes.
The palaces of the rich consist of wooden huts, of such
a size that they may be conveniently fixed on large
waggons, and drawn by a team perhaps of 20 or 30
oxen. I he flocks and herds, after grazing all day in
the adjacent pastures, retire on the approach of night
within the protection of the camp. The necessity of
preventing the most mischievous confusion in such a
perpetual concourse of men and animals, must gradual¬
ly introduce, in their distribution of the order and the
guard of the encampment, the rudiments of the military
art. As soon as the forage of a certain district is con-*
sumed, the tribe, or rather army of shepherds, makes a
regular march to some fresh pastures ; and thus ac¬
quires, in the ordinary occupations of the pastoral life,
the practical knowledge of one of the most important
and difficult operations of war. The choice of stations
is regulated by the difference of seasons. In the sum¬
mer the Tartars advance towards the north, and pitch
their tents on the banks of a river, or at least in the
neighbourhood of a running stream ; but in the win¬
ter they return to the south, and shelter their camp, be¬
hind some convenient eminence, against the winds, which
are chilled in their passage over the bleak and icy re¬
gions of Siberia. These manners are admirably adapt¬
ed to diffuse, among the wandering tribes, the spirit of
emigration and conquest. The connexion between the
people and their territory is of so frail a texture, that il
may be broken by the slightest accident. The camp,
and not the soil, is the native country of the genuine
Tartar. Within the precincts of that camp, his fami-
ly, his companions, his property, are always included ;
and in the most distant marches, he is still surrounded
by the objects which are dear or valuable, or familiar
in his eyes. The thirst of rapine, the fear or the re¬
sentment of injury, the impatience of servitude, have,
in every age, been sufficient causes to urge the tribes of
Scythia boldly to advance into some unknown countries,
where they might hope to find a more plentiful sub¬
sistence or a less formidable enemy. Even the severity
of the climates which they inhabit facilitates their en¬
terprises. In the winter season, the broad and rapid
rivers that discharge their waters into the Euxine, the
Caspian, or the Icy sea, are strongly frozen ; the fields
Asia.
*35
Exaroises.
A S I
are covered with a bed of snow
victorious tribes may securely traverse with their fami
lies, their waggons, and their cattle, the smooth and
hard surface of an iijimense plain.
The ordinary exercises of these people prepare them
for war. The pastoral life, compared with the labours
of agriculture and manufactures, is undoubtedly a life
of idleness j and as the most honourable shepherds of
the Tartar race devolve on their captives the domestic
management of their cattle, their own leisure is seldom
disturbed by any servile and assiduous cares. But this
leisure, instead of being devoted to the soft enjoyments
of love and harmony, is usually spent in the violent
and sanguinary exercise of the chase. The plains of
Tartary are filled with a strong and serviceable breed
of horses, which are usually trained for the purposes of
war and hunting. The Scythians of every age have
been celebrated as bold and skilful riders: and con¬
stant practice has seated them so firmly on horseback,
that they were supposed by strangers to perform the or¬
dinary duties of civil life, to eat, drink, and even to
sleep without dismounting from their steeds* They ex¬
cel in the dexterous management of the lance } the
long Tartar bow is drawn with a nervous arm ; and
the weighty arrow is directed to its object with uner¬
ring aim, and irresistible force : these arrows are often
pointed against the harmless animals of the desert,
which increase and multiply in the absence of their
most formidable enemy ; the hare, the goat, the roe¬
buck, the fallow-deer, the stag, the elk, and the ante¬
lope. The vigour and patience both of the men and
horses are continually exercised by the fatigues of the
chase ; and the plentiful supply of game contributes
to the subsistence and even luxury of a Tartar camp.
But the exploits of the hunters of Scythia are not con¬
fined to the destruction of innoxious beasts j they bold¬
ly encounter the angry wild-boar when he turns
against his pursuers, excite the sluggish courage of the
bear, and provoke the fury of the tiger as he slumbers
in the thicket. Where there is danger there may be
glory ; and the mode of hunting which opens the fair¬
est field to the exertions of valour, may justly be con¬
sidered as the image and as the school of war. The
general hunting matches, the pride and delight of the
Tartar princes, compose an instructive exercise for their
numerous cavalry. A circle is drawn of many miles
in circumference, to encompass the game of an exten¬
sive district; and the troops that form the circle regular¬
ly advance towards a common centre, where the cap¬
tive animals, surrounded on every side, are abandoned
to the darts of the hunters. In this march, which fre¬
quently continues many days, the cavalry are obliged
to climb the hills, to swim the rivers, and to wind
through the valleys, without interrupting the prescrib¬
ed order of their gradual progress. They acquire the
habit of directing their eye, and their steps, to a remote
object; of preserving their intervals ; of suspending or
accelerating their pace, according to the motions of
the troops on their right and left; and of watching and
repeating the signals of their leaders. Their leaders
study in this practical school the most important lesson
of the military art; the prompt and accurate judgment
of ground, of distance, and of time. To employ against
a human enemy the same patience and valour, the same
skill and discipline, is the only alteration which is re?
[ 781 ] A S I
and the fugitive or quired in real war; and the amusements of the chase Asia.
serve as a prelude to the conquest of an empire. u—^——j
The nature of their domestic government has at all 236
times groatly favoured every attempt of the Tartars ^oyern"
towards conquest. The political society of the ancientmeu1,
Germans has the appearance of a voluntary alliance of
independent warriors. The tribes of Scythia, distin¬
guished by the modern appellation of hordes, assume, on
the contrary, the form of a numerous and increasing
family ; which in the course of successive generations,
has been propagated from the same original stock. 1
The meanest and most ignorant of the Tartars preserve,.
with conscious pride, the inestimable treasure of their
genealogy ; and whatever distinctions of rank may
have been introduced by the unequal distribution of
pastoral wealth, they mutually respect themselves and
each other, as the descendants of the first founder of
the tribe. The custom, which still prevails, of adopt¬
ing the bravest and most faithful of the captives, may
countenance the very probable suspicion, that this ex¬
tensive consanguinity is in a great measure legal and
fictitious. But the useful prejudice, which has obtain¬
ed the sanction of time and opinion, produces the
effects of truth ; the haughty barbarians yield a cheer¬
ful and voluntary obedience to the head of their blood ;
and their chief, or mursa, as the representative of their
great father, exercises the authority of a judge in peace,
and of a leader in war. In the original state of the
pastoral world, each of the mursas (if we may continue
to use a modern appellation) acted as the independent
chief of a large and separate family; and the limits of
their peculiar territories were gradually fixed by supe¬
rior force, or mutual consent. When, by a coincidence
of fortune and of talents, a successful chieftain con¬
trived to unite under his command a great number of
separate hordes, with a view to a common enterprise,
he found, from their ordinary habits of obedience and,
subordination, an army ready formed and arranged for
action: each tribe or horde followed its own chief, to
whose authority it was accustomed to submit. If the
chief was taught to obey, the obedience of his horde
might, from the habits of the people, be safely relied
on. Thus these barbarians have at all times been able
to send forth detachments upon distant expeditions,
which have acted with all the promptitude of a well
disciplined military force, and enabled them at once to
push their conquests towards the tropic and polar circle,
the Chinese empire, and the banks of the Danube.
To these advantages the Tartar chiefs have some- The2Tar-
times added a portion of military skill, according to the tars ac-
state in which it existed in the civilized nations in their quainted
neighbourhood. It has been an usual practice among ^
the Chinese to receive into their pay some of the Tartar
chiefs, and to use as soldiers considerable bodies of this
brave and hardy race of men. These are employed as
the cavalry of the Chinese armies, and become a con¬
venient engine in the hands of an artful government,
at once to keep Tartary itself in subjection, and to re¬
press every attempt at rebellion among the Chinese
themselves, when they at any time happen to become
discontented, either in consequence of a corrupted and
tyrannical administration, or of accidental famine, to
which that over-peopled country is exposed. But these
Tartar auxiliaries, or tools of power, have sometimes ul¬
timately become very dangerous. When the Chinese
princes, ^
A S I [ 782 ] A S I
Asia. princes, trusting to the passiveness of their people, and
—to the irresistible force of their mercenary troops, have
suffered themselves to sink into indolence, and to neglect
the administration of affairs, the Tartar chiefs in their
pay have sometimes learned to despise their feeble
masters, and have turned against them the portion of
military knowledge which they had acquired in the
Chinese service, adding to it the whole vigour and fe¬
rocity which they derived from the habits of their early
life. The most celebrated of the Tartar chiefs was
the renowned Temujin, or Zinghis, who, in the 13th
century of the Christian era, erected a monarchy among
his pastoral countrymen, and, in his own person, or by
his descendants, subdued the whole civilized nations of
Asia. In his youth he was a vassal of the Chinese em¬
pire : he was led to invade it hy a knowledge of its
weakness and of the means of success, at a time when
it was distracted by domestic faction, and left exposed
in consequence of the revolt of 100,000 Khitans, who
guarded the frontier. The conquest of the five northern
provinces of that empire rendered him more dangerous
to other nations. He marched westward, and attacked
the flourishing and civilized empire of Carizme, which
then existed to the eastward of the Caspian sea. After
a battle, in which the sultan of Carizme lost 160,000
of his troops, that prince withdrew into his towns, in
the hope of wearying out the barbarians by the length
and difficulty of a number of regular sieges. But the
foresight of Zinghis had formed a body of Chinese en¬
gineers, skilled in the mechanic arts, informed perhaps
of the secret of gunpowder, and capable, under his dis¬
cipline, of attacking a foreign country with more vi¬
gour and success than they had defended their owm.
The Persian historians relate the sieges and reduction of
Otrar, Cogende, Bochara, Samarcand, Carizme, Herat,
Merou, Nisabour, Balch, and Candahar; and the con¬
quest of the rich and populous countries of Transoxiana,
Carizme, and Chorasan. From the Caspian to the In¬
dus, the Tartars ruined a tract of many hundred miles,
which was adorned with the habitations and labours of
mankind ; and five centuries have not been sufficient to
repair the ravages of four years.
The right of hereditary succession to the sovereignty
of a number of united hordes, together with the re¬
venue, which, by their customs, the sovereign was en¬
titled to levy, had a tendency to render them long
formidable. Zinghis had originally been raised to
power by the admiration of his equals, and the success
of his enterprises, under the title of khan. The right
of hereditary succession was long confined to the blood
of the founder of the monarchy j and at this moment
all the khans who reign from the Crimea to the wall of
China, represent themselves as the lineal descendants of
the renowned Zinghis'. But as it is the indispensable
duty of a Tartar sovereign to lead his warlike subjects
into the field, the claims of an infant are often disre¬
garded j and some royal kinsman, distinguished by his
age and valour, is entrusted with the sword and sceptre
of his predecessor. Two distinct and regular taxes are
levied on the tribes, to support the dignity of their na¬
tional monarch, and of their peculiar chief; and each
of those contributions amounts to the tythe, both of
their property and of their spoil. A Tartar sovereign
enjoys a tenth part of the wealth of his people j and as
his own domestic riches of flocks and herds increase
in a much larger proportion, he is able plentifully to Asia,
maintain the rustic splendour of his court, to reward
the most deserving or the most favoured of his follow¬
ers, and to obtain, from the gentle influence of corrup¬
tion, the obedience which might be sometimes refused
to the stern mandates of authority. The manners of
his subjects, accustomed, like himself, to blood and
rapine, might excuse, in their eyes, such partial arts
of tyranny as wmuld excite the horror of a civilized
people j but the power of a despot has never been ac¬
knowledged in the deserts of Scythia. The immediate
jurisdiction of the khan is confined within the limits of
his own tribe, and the exercise of his royal prerogative
has been moderated by the ancient institution of a na¬
tional council. The coroultai, or diet, of the Tartars
was long regularly held in the spring and autumn, in
the midst of a plain, where the princes of the reigning
family and the mursas of the respective tribes may con¬
veniently assemble on horseback, with their martial and
numerous trains ; and the ambitious monarch, who re¬
viewed the strength, must consult the inclination of an
armed people. Thus the rudiments of a feudal govern¬
ment may be discovered in the constitution of the Scy¬
thian or Tartar nations ; and in all their conquests they
have uniformly been disposed in some degree to retain
some resemblance of this form of government, by distri¬
buting their new territory among their chiefs, to be
ruled and divided among their followers in subordina¬
tion to the head of the state.
One circumstance, however, has always been neces-Weakness
sary to the success of Scythian or Tartar conquest, that of other
the neighbouring nations should be in a state of weak-nat-ionsne-
ness. The Chinese and the Russians are at present the^®s^y toss
tyrants or masters of the Tartars, who heretofore tyran- of ^
nized over the.world. The Chinese rule them partly tars,
hy art and partly by force > and the Russians find that
they are unable to resist the arts and the military skill
of Europe. The population of China amounts to be¬
tween 300,000,000 and 400,000,000. That of Hin-
doostan is equal to 100,000,000 ; and the ancient Per¬
sian empire was capable of pouring forth to the invasion
of Europe, an army amounting, as it is said, to three mil¬
lions of men. Such nations, possessed of superior arts and
means of defence, could not upon their own territory
have been vanquished by any number of barbarians
that could unite against them, did not some defect exist
in their character, or had they not been brought into a
state of political weakness by some fault in their govern¬
ment. Such reasoning is natural to modern Europeans,
who see the present state of the Tartars with just indif¬
ference, as by no means formidable to the peace of the
world. It is confirmed by history and experience.
We shall therefore proceed to consider the circum¬
stances which have hitherto had a tendency to expose
all the Asiatic states to conquest and to ruin.
One circumstance, which in most of the Asiatic states cjrc2u^.
has a powerful tendency to produce a permanent inferi-stances that
ority of character in the people, and a constant ten-have weak-
dency to anarchy and revolution in the government, enf^
arises from the imperfect state of domestic society. In^ates
all the countries of Asia that have adopted the 240
Mahometan religion, polygamy is authorised by law, Polygamy,
that is to say, besides Arabia, in Turkey, Persia,
and Hindoostan, which last contains 10,000,000 of
Mahometans. The same practice is also allowed in
China,
A S I [ 783 ] A S I
among the rude dern times are occupied by the Asiatic cities. This Asia.
241
Its effects
on popula¬
tion,
242
Asia. China, and it has always prevailed
■—v—tribes of Tartars. It is probable, that this law upon
the whole facilitates population. It divides between
the rich and the poor more equally, that is, in a bet¬
ter proportion to their means, the expence of rearing
the future generation, as rich men, who can afford to
do so, will naturally be led to have a greater number
ontheeha-of children. But at the same time, there can be no
aracter of doubt that this law must have a powerful tendency to
5 e people, repress ^|ie intellectual improvement of the people.
The rich in every country dictate the fashions of lifej
and by this institution a fashion is necessarily intro¬
duced of treating women with jealousy, and thus of se¬
cluding one half the species from the ordinary so¬
ciety of the other. Women thus shut up in retirement,
must possess illiterate and unimproved characters j they
must also be prevented in a great degree from carrying
on any part of the common business of life. From
these circumstances more evils will arise than are at
first obvious. One half of society, instead of being use¬
ful, becomes a burden upon the industry of the other.
A secluded and unsocial mode of life is introduced,
and as the human powers are best improved by inter¬
course with society, a considerable difficulty is thrown
in the way of the enlargement of our faculties. Be¬
sides this, it must happen, that the ignorance and im¬
becility of one half of the species will affect the other.
An Asiatic retires from the management of his business,
to the society of an unintelligent and weak being, who
neither sees nor knows any thing of the world or its af¬
fairs. In such society he must relinquish his reason and
his rational faculties, before he can enjoy much satisfac¬
tion. In such society, however, he was educated du¬
ring his first years, and a great part of his time must
necessarily be spent. He cannot fly from it to the house
of a friend, for no friend can receive him ; and he can
receive nobody freely into his dwelling, lest his female
prisoners should be seen. This at least is the case
with all those who live not in spacious mansions with a
variety of apartments. In such a state of society, it is
impossible that many men can acquire, or long preserve,
much zeal for scientific pursuits, or that the improve¬
ment of literature and of ingenious arts can be very
earnestly cultivated.
’ZA'l J . #
on the form These effects of the law which regulates domestic
of houses society, appear even to the most careless observer of an
and cities, Asiatic city. It occupies a large extent of territo¬
ry, because every family secludes itself from the other.
Every house is surrounded by a wall, and stands in an
enclosed area: Each family thus fortifies itself as with¬
in a rampart against the intrusion of all neighbours.
Hence it has happened, that no attempt has ever been
made in the cities of Asia to establish a republican form
of government, even when the people were driven to
despair by the severest oppression. There exists not
that rapid communication of sentiment, and that confi¬
dence in each other, which takes place where society is
more intimately blended, and which leads men to re¬
pose such confidence in each other, as to believe that
they can act under the mere authority of public pac¬
tions or laws, without the interposition of a master.
The mode of erecting their dwellings also explains the
wonderful stories, told us by the ancient writers, of the
immense extent of Babylon and of Nineveh. It also
accounts for the great tracts of territory, which in mo-
2 44
ef- on govern-
circumstance also has contributed more than any thing
else to expose them to the enterprises of invaders. The
extent ol their walls in proportion to the population
they contain, rendered the defence of them difficult or
impossible.
I he law of polygamy has also had a very fatal
feet upon the Asiatic governments, and has been onement.
of the most ordinary means of introducing anarchy into
them. The princes have very numerous families by
different women. Each of the female favourites of the
reigning monarch attempts to establish her own chil¬
dren in the most advantageous situations. Hence, the
Asiatic courts are at all times occupied by an endless 245
tissue of dangerous intrigues. Attempts are o/ten sue- Produces
cessfully made to inspire an old man with jealousy °ffrjS^”S*0*S
his eldest son, the apparent heir. The knowledge ofrejgnjng
the existence of such attempts, or even of the possibi-family,
lity of tbeir existence, and of the fatal effects which
they may produce in a despotic government, disposes
all the sons of the prince to watch the conduct both of
him and of each other with the utmost jealousy : this
jealousy is apt to burst out into open rebellion, and
frequently does so. At all events, upon the death of
an Asiatic monarch, his numerous sons, whose rival-
ship, hatred and jealousy of each other, have hither¬
to been confined within decent bounds, openly break
out into violence. A younger brother knows that he
is hated by the elder, who is now become his master.
In defence of his own existence, therefore, he is com¬
pelled to have recourse to arms, and to obtain a crown
or submit to destruction. In this way, the successor of
an Asiatic prince has often to begin his reign by strug¬
gling against a considerable number of desperate rebel¬
lions, and must wade to the throne through the blood of
his nearest kindred. As success does not always attend
the arms of the elder brother, the law of primogeni¬
ture, being frequently violated, loses its importance and
estimation in the eyes of the multitude. The royal fa¬
mily itself, covered as its members must be with par¬
ricides and crimes, cannot be greatly respected by the
people, in whose eyes success and victory become,
therefore, the only undoubted titles to obedience. 3.^5
Powerful subjects also, therefore, or enterprising mili-Produces
tary leaders, are frequently tempted to disregard the usurPatloni1*
claims of the reigning family, and to appeal to the for¬
tune of arms as a title to dominion. When successful,
they find a people distracted by civil wars, and by the
pretensions of different candidates, ready to acquiesce
in any government that can bestow upon them a tem¬
porary repose.
Even should a reigning family escape these obvious Polygamy
calamities which lay waste the territories of a nation, produces
and overthrow its prosperity by sanguinary civil con-Sovenl"
tests, there are evils by which the law of polygamy
more gradually, though not more certainly, under¬
mines the safety of the state. The founder of a new
dynasty is usually an ambitious and artful military
chief. H is first successors, educated in an active
reign, and anxious to secure their dubious authority,
usually partake bis talents and energy. Time, how¬
ever, soon sanctifies their right to the throne, though
originally founded in usurpation. The monarch now
placed in security, indulges in that luxury to which
he is tempted by his situation j and luxury, where the
law.
A S I [ 784 ] A S I
Asia. law of polygamy exists, has more powerful and dan-
lw,”“v 1 ■' gerous attractions, and is attended with more pernici¬
ous effects, than elsewhere. This kind of luxury, above
all others, leads to an indolent life, and to the produc¬
tion of an ignorant and unintelligent character. The
prince is led to shut himself up among a crowd of eu¬
nuchs and women, from whose society he can derive
no improvement, and to whose counsels and passions
he is ultimately led to intrust the direction of the most
important affairs of his government. The armies of
the state are soon neglected, by a monarch, whose fa¬
vourites employ every art to inspire him with a disgust
of the toils of war, that he may the more easily be re¬
tained within the precincts of his palace, and under
their management and influence. The provinces are
subjected to the most ruinous exactions to gratify their
avarice, and every place of public trust comes to be
filled by men who undertake not to administer pub¬
lic affairs, but to extort large sums of money from
the people, to be conveyed to the favourites that rule
within the palace. Thus the state experiences a rapid
decay of its population and resources ; and if it is at¬
tacked from abroad, it has no head to call forth its
remaining powers, and direct them with vigour and
skill against an invader. The population that remains
may still be sufficiently ample for the defence of its
own territory, and abundance of personal courage may
exist among the citizens j but they cannot be arranged,
14S or their force rendered effectual, from the want of an
Instance of active government. This appears to be precisely the
inkey. situation of the Turks at the present moment. Their
first princes, inhabiting the frontier of Europe and of
Asia, exhibited, during a much longer period than is
usual in the families of Asiatic monarchs, a very con¬
siderable degree of spirit and of exertion. But the law
which authorises them to live with a multitude of wo¬
men, all of whose children are legitimate, gradually
produced its natural effect. The latter princes have
shut themselves up in their palace, and neglected the
administration of affairs. The provinces have been
wasted $ and instead of the numerous people which they
once container!, immense forests are rising over the
whole territory, and becoming the habitation of wild
beasts. Uie governors of the remoter provinces are
aspiring to independence j anarchy prevails in differ¬
ent quarters $ and a foreign conquest is only prevent¬
ed by the jealousy of the neighbouring nations, who
cannot agree to whose lot these fine countries shall
fall. \et at this day the Turks are a race of as stout
and brave men as their Scythian forefathers. They
are equally willing to fly to arms, and sufficient num¬
bers still remain to set every enemy at defiance $ but
they are not led by those vigorous chiefs who conduct¬
ed their ancestors from the foot of Imaus, resisted the
power of Persia, seized the city of Constantine, and
diffused terror over Europe. A man of talents only is
wanting to render them still respectable, if not formi¬
dable 5 but thfeir unusual respect for the descendants of
so many illustrious princes, has hitherto prevented their
government from being seized, and their nation preser¬
ved by a bold usurper; while, in the mean time, their
sultan, lost in the indolence and voluptuousness of his se-
raglio, and blinded by his favourites, refuses to come
forth and to undertake the direction of the remaining
armies of the state, or to place himself at the head of a
warlike people. . - v *
This law of polygamy appears to be the single cir- 249
cumstance that has brought about the revolutions which P(!I>Sala*
have occurred in China. From the nature of the sin- U
gular form of government established there, the human *
mind is indeed preserved in a state of perpetual imbeci¬
lity, and is prevented from rising in improvement be¬
yond a certain degree 5 this degree, however, it never
fails to attain. It is sufficient to render the nation de¬
cidedly superior to their rude neighbours of Tartary j
and as Chinese improvement can never advance far,
there appears no good reason why it should ever de¬
cline or pass away. But the law of polygamy from
time to time deranges all their institutions, and the re¬
gular march of their government. As they ascribe ab¬
solute power to their monarch, and their laws secure
tranquillity to the state and complete obedience to
his will, he can have no occasion to quarrel with his
people, or to disturb institutions which give him the
command of as much wealth as his wishes can crave,
and as much power as he personally can have any in¬
clination to exert. Accordingly, for some time after
a recent conquest, all goes well in China : the monarch
is delighted with the submission and tranquillity of his
people, the industry and prosperity of the country, and
the immense revenue which is placed at his disposal,
and which he can have no occasion to use otherwise
than in works of public magnificence, generosity, or
utility. Speedily, however, this peaceable state of
things produces its natural effects. The monarch hav¬
ing nothing to fear, and little to do, resigns himself to
pleasure j and that pleasure most probably consists in
the kind of indulgence which the law allows and en¬
courages, of collecting around him, and passing his
time in the society of, a multitude of beautiful women.
Such, however, is the skilful structure of the Chinese
government, that it proceeds and prospers without the
interference of the prince, who is rather a useful name
to prevent military usurpation than an active organ of
the constitution. Affairs being in the hands of the
most prudent men in the state, who have risen by ap¬
proved fidelity and talents to the highest rank and trust,
are conducted with abundance of care; and the re¬
sponsibility of all inferior magistrates is enforced.
Thus the emperor may be allowed to slumber with se¬
cure dignity in his palace : If he interefere not to do
harm, the constitution of the state will provide for the
management of public business and the prosperity of the
people. But matters cannot long rest thus. A weak
and ignorant prince, who passes his days secluded from
the world, amidst eunuchs and women, will not com¬
prehend the value of that constitution at the head of
which he is placed; his favourites prevail with him to
encroach upon its fundamental maxims ; he is induced
to distrust those officers who have risen by a gradual
progress under the direction of the law to distinction
and power, and to confer authority upon individuals to
whom the constitution gives no title to receive it. As
implicit obedience to magistrates, and above all to the
emperor, is a fundamental maxim of Chinese jurispru¬
dence, and inculcated as superior to all other duties,
the will of the emperor meets with no resistance : The
constitution trusts that he will not attempt to violate it;
but
[ 785 ] A S I
Asia. if he do so, it provides no other remedy than the
'——y——/prayers and entreaties of the highest order of manda¬
rins, which they have been known to employ at the ha¬
zard of their lives, and even with the certainty of de¬
struction. As the imperial will, therefore, can in no
way be resisted or controuled, when an emperor relin¬
quishes himself to the dominion of the inmates of his
palace, the consequences speedily occur which we have
already mentioned as resulting from the law of poly¬
gamy in other countries. The defence of the state is
disregarded •, worthless men are raised to the command
of armies and provinces j corruption becomes the means
of obtaining preferment: The Tartar subjects find out
the important secret, that the reins of government are
loosely held, that the barriers which protect the trea¬
sures of a wealthy nation have fallen into decay, and
that these treasures have come to be at the mercy of
poverty and courage. Some chief endeavours to unite
the shepherds of the west and the north in a common
enterprise : His first efforts procure him plunder, if not
dominion, and the prospect of his riches procures him
new adherents, till at last the hardy cavalry of Scythia
are enabled to disperse the feeble and ill-conducted ar¬
mies of the Chinese ; and their leader and his family,
seated on the throne of a mighty empire, is gradually
led, by similar circumstances, to proceed in the same
career, from strength and activity, to weakness, degene¬
racy, and ruin. The constitution of China, indeed,
triumphs over these calamities. The Tartars admire
the arts and manners of the vanquished people j and
the conqueror is willing to revive and preserve a con¬
stitution which preserves the prosperity of the people,
while it submits every thing to the will of their master.
Had the laws of that empire provided, as in Europe,
that the inheritance both of public and private indivi¬
duals should only pass to their legitimate children by
one woman, China might undoubtedly have avoided
many of its revolutions. Its princes might have been
men of talents or otherwise, according to the ordinary
vicissitudes that in the course of nature occur in fami¬
lies $ but the possession of talents by the prince is not
necessary to the good government of China: it is
enough that he interfere not to do positive mischief,
and under such a law, every temptation to do mischief
t ,0 would be removed from him.
General Another cause of periodical weakness in Asiatic na-
form of go- tions arises from the general form of government that
yernment j)as been there adopted. Excepting in China, the
ia j>ia, Tartars have in all their conquests been led to establish
feadal. themselves under a sort of feudal arrangement. In
their native country, they were divided and subdivided
into tribes and families, under a chief who had led
them forth to war and conquest. In their new terri¬
tories, it was natural for the chief to reward his success¬
ful officers with grants of provinces, which they were
again to subdivide among their followers, under condi¬
tion of remaining in subjection to himself, and of be¬
ing ready on all occasions to attend him in war. These
grants, however, were only bestowed upon individuals
personally who received them : They were given as
the price or pay of military service : They might be
recalled at will, like the commission of an officer j and
they were never meant to go to the heirs of the fa¬
voured chief, though undoubtedly in equal circumstan¬
ces his heirs would be preferre4 to others. A govern-
Vol. II. Part II. +
ment like this is ex-posed to two kinds of disorders; Asia,
the one, arising from exorbitant power acquired by the ——y—— »
great vassals : and the other, arising from the too great
despotism of the prince.
Under a monarch of great activity and vigilance, the
chief vassals of (the state, who have received large
grants of territory, may be retained in sufficient sub¬
jection. He may summon them and their followers
frequently to attend his person ; and by engaging them
m wars under him, may preserve his personal ascen¬
dency over them, by having frequent occasion to
change their situations, and to prefer others to the
places they occupy. Should his immediate successors, Feuda*j:o-
however, not be men of equal talents with himself, or veinment
should a disputed succession occur, the greater chiefs aPl t0 be*
will immediately aspire to independence: the empirecome ar's'
will fall to pieces, and degenerate into a hereditaryt0Lait C
aristocracy, in which every chief is engaged in hostility
with his neighbours, and in which the people at large,
oppressed by a multitude of petty tyrants, can enjoy no
repose or prosperity. Such has been the destiny of se¬
veral of the nations of Asia; and it was also the desti¬
ny of Europe after its conquest by the northern barba¬
rians. It is true that the European princes gradually
recovered the power that had been wrested from them,
and converted into local inheritances by their great
nobles. To subdue these nobles, they associated them¬
selves with the populace, with the few merchants, and
the industrious part of the nation. They encouraged
these people to unite themselves into communities, and
to fortify themselves with walls. They established
courts ot justice, whose regular and equitable proce¬
dure gained the affection of the weak, whom they pro¬
tected, and brought odium upon the violence and des¬
potism of the petty local tyrants of the country. The
commercial and industrious part of the community
were induced to contribute to the support of the prince,
who seemed thus to labour only for their welfare, and
to protect them against oppression. By this wealth he
was enabled to confirm his power, and to subdue his
refractory vassals. By following out these prudent
maxims lor a few generations, the dominion of law and
order, along with the power of the sovereign, were esta¬
blished in the nations of Europe. But nothing of all
this can occur in Asia. Power may there be acquir¬
ed by the violence of sudden conquest, but it cannot
be gained by a train of artful policy steadily pursued
from father to son during a course of several genera¬
tions. In consequence, as already mentioned, of the
law of polygamy, no sooner does a prince die than one
of two things occurs ; either a war for the succession
ensues among his children by difi’erent wives, which
consumes the wealth of the people, and augments the
power ol the nobles, upon whom the candidates for do¬
minion must rely for aid; or, to prevent this calami¬
ty, the eldest son of the deceased monarch seizes his
younger brothers, and puts out their eyes, or destroys
their lives. Thus an example of cruelty and injustice
is exhibited, which destroys in the minds of the people
every growing sentiment favourable to the establishment
of order, and of humane and equitable laws. e
On the other hand, it has frequently happened in Gove'ra-
Asia, that the power of the monarch has not been lostmentty
by its vassals converting different districts into heredi-vicei,°7*- J
tary possessions. A succession during a few generations
J G of
A S I [ 786 ] A S I
Asia.
V iceregal
govern¬
ment a-
dopted in
the Roman
empire.
of active and warlike princes has given leisure for the
chiefs of the Tartar tribes to acquire the manners of
the nations whom they vanquished, and to sink, like
them into a state of permanent subjection to a sove¬
reign, become too powerful to be resisted. In this case,
however, an error exists in the general structure of
Asiatic governments, which gradually brings them to
decay. The monarch divides his territory into pro¬
vinces, and over each province he places a governor,
or viceroy, whom he appoints and recals at pleasure.
The governor of a province possesses within it the
whole power of the master whom he represents j he
collects the taxes, and remits them to the capital j he
administers justice by himself, or by deputies whom he
appoints and removes at pleasure j and lastly, be com¬
mands within his district the armies of the state. On
a little reflection it will readily be conceived, that a
nation governed in this way cannot permanently pros¬
per. An absolute monarch can scarcely fail to be pa¬
triotic, because the whole country is his own, and he
must regard his people as his property, or as a kind of
appendage to his family. He will therefore intend to
govern them well, or as advantageously as possible.
But the governors whom he places over the provinces
must entertain very different sentiments : The state is
not their inheritance *, they are appointed only for a
season j and like tenants at will, they will endeavour
to make the most of their temporary possession, though
they diminish the permanent value of the estate. Hence
these men are always apt to govern ill ; and, with a view
to make the most of their time and opportunity, they
oppress the people by their rapacity. The monarch has
no intention to sanction their conduct, but there exists no
other means of restraining it than to maintain a perpe¬
tual and vigilant inspection over them. If he is not con¬
stantly at short intervals travelling into every part of his
dominions, and viewing objects with his own eyes, the
governors of provinces will take advantage of their si¬
tuation, to oppress the people, and will endeavour to se¬
cure their own safety by corrupting the ministers who
are near the person of the prince.
In a government thus constituted, too much is made
to depend upon the activity and vigilance of one man.
If the monarch relax in his attention, the state at once
begins to decay ; and even his personal infirmities, his
youth, or his old age, produce important effects upon
the provinces. When a weak prince happens to suc¬
ceed to the throne, the decline of the empire becomes
visible in a few years j and the most active reign scarce¬
ly suffices to repair the injuries which a short period of
weak government has occasioned. All these evils are
aggravated in Asia by the tendency which the law of
polygamy has to introduce into the palace of the mo¬
narch a system of seclusion from business, of indolence,
and of favouritism.
In the ancient Roman empire this practice was adopt¬
ed of ruling the provinces by temporary governors pos¬
sessed of unlimited power, and was attended with all
the bad consequences which we have here described.
From its first establishment, that empire, like an Asia¬
tic monarchy, underwent a gradual progress of decay ;
and instead of the people becoming gradually more
powerful, wealthy, and enlightened, every science and
every art, together with the population of the state,
declined, till the whole was oppressed and sunk under
3
the inroads of the northern barbarians. It is a curl- Ada.
ous circumstance, and well worthy of all our attention, ' /—-*
that the progress of modern Europe is altogether the
reverse of this. In Asia a monarchy is no sooner esta- whyEufo.
blishfed than its decline commences, and it gradually pean na-
becomes weaker and weaker, till, in the course of ationsim.
few successions, its overthrow is easily accomplished :P10Vein-
whereas in Europe, for some centuries past, every state jteedro1
or monarchy of any tolerable extent, has gradually been like Adatic
waxing stronger and stronger, and is capable of greater stales,
exertions in proportion to the time that it has stood.
Such, at least, is the case, with regard to the middle
and northern states of Europe. The mode in which
the government is administered will explain this, when
contrasted with that which is adopted in most of the
Asiatic states, and which existed in the Roman empire.
In Europe the sovereign does not intrust the whole
government and administration of afiairs in a province
to an individual, who is at once to be tax-gatherer,
judge, and commander of the military force. On the
contrary, instead of portioning out the whole territory
of the state in provinces, to be allotted to particular
viceroys, a more artificial arrangement is adopted. The
business to he done is divided into different branches,
and these branches, though sometimes extending over
the whole territory, are intrusted by the sovereign to
distinct individuals or classes of individuals. Thus an
office or officer is established near the person of the
prince, into which the whole taxes of the nation are
ultimately paid. Under this office, or its managing
minister, a variety of tax-gatherers are sent through¬
out the whole country, to collect in the different towns
and districts the taxes established by law, and to remit
them to the government. These tax-gatherers have
no interference in military affairs or in the administra¬
tion of justiee. In like manner, a particular class of
persons, properly qualified for the duty to be performed,
are appointed to administer justice in the provinces,
and to interfere no farther in public affairs. No
part of the revenue comes into their hands, and they
have no command of the military force of the state.
Lastly, the whole military or soldiers likewise form a
separate and distinct body. Their officers are all ap¬
pointed by the prince and his ministers, upon whom
they immediately depend, and they have no concern
in the collection of the taxes, or in the administration
of justice. Under a government thus constituted, if a
tax-gatherer make an unjust exaction from any of the
people, they complain to the judges, who, having no
share in the management of the public revenue, and
deriving no profit from the oppressions that may be
committed in it, are disposed to listen to all complaints,
and to do justice against the collectors of the taxes.
The judges themselves are kept under controul in a
similar way. Not being commanders of the military
force, or entrusted with the direction of its operations,
they can only pronounce decrees, but have no power
to execute them. This must be performed by the mi¬
litary, who are a distinct body. They, however, will
have no inclination to see the power of judges and
lawyers exorbitantly increased, and will revolt from
the idea of putting in force decrees which are notori¬
ously unjust, and of which the public disapprove. Thus
the people will, in every respect, be assured of protec¬
tion. The judges will protect them against the tax-
gatherer*
Asia.
*55
Religions
of Asia
hurtful.
Religion
in some
places di¬
vides the
state.
A S I [ 787 ] A S I
gatherers and the military, who, in their turn, will re¬
gard with jealousy the power of the judges. In this
way a just and equitable government is maintained.
Access is easily had to the prince, who can have no wish
to see affairs ill administered. A great nation is go¬
verned like a single family, by allowing different duties
to its different members, who are prevented from abu¬
sing their power. Industry is encouraged by the secu¬
rity of property j and the human mind, unsubdued by
oppression, and animated by hope, is led to exert its
whole energies in improving its own character and
condition. Whereas in Asia, and in all those countries
in which governors of provinces are appointed with ab¬
solute power to conduct the whole business of admi¬
nistration, every province is converted into a separate
empire, in which no redress can be obtained for any
grievance. If a tax-gatherer make an undue demand,
the citizen can only state his complaint to the em¬
ployer of that tax-gatherer, the provincial-governor,
who is to receive the money that is to be paid. If a
soldier do wrong, he can only be complained of to the
same governor who is the master and patron of the sol¬
dier. If a judge is unjust, it is still to the same indi¬
vidual that the complaint must be carried. Thus no
check or controul exists $ and if the governor of the
province is rapacious and unjust, and has need of un¬
principled dependents to support his power, the people
must submit to an oppression for which there is no re¬
medy ; and the whole state, thus divided into depart¬
ments and oppressed, must speedily sink into ruin.
Commerce cannot flourish where the fruits of industry
are not secure j and without commerce those arts can¬
not prosper, the practice and improvement of which
afford some of the best means of enlarging the human
faculties.”
In many parts of Asia, religion is also a great source
of national weakness. This arises from two causes j ei¬
ther from its dividing a state into different parties, or
from its doctrines being of such a nature as to restrain
in too great a degree the activity and improvement of
the human mind.
Before the Turks subdued the Greek empire, they
had been long enough settled in the countries near the
Caspian sea, to acquire the religion of a more civilized
people. By the time they subdued the country round
Constantinople, and at last the capital itself, they were
become zealous Mahometans *, whilst the nation over
whom they established their dominion, consisted of no
less zealous Christians. Hence a line of separation
was drawn between the conquerors and the conquered,
which time has not been able to obliterate. One half
of the state consists of masters, and the other of an op¬
pressed people. In other nations the evils of conquest
have been temporary, because in a short time the vic¬
tors and the vanquished, mingling in the ties of affini¬
ty and thence of consanguinity, have ceased to be di¬
stinguished from each other, and have coalesced into
one common people. But in 1 urkey, to this day, the
proud invader is known from the vanquished native.
Their respective religions have fixed upon each of them
a mark, which has proved as indelible as that by
which, in our West India islands, nature distinguishes
the negro slave from his European master. Hence the
Turks continue to act the part of insolent oppressors
to their subjects, the Greeks j while the latter, accu- Asia,
stomed to insults and to a sense of inferiority, have ac- —*— *
quired the characteristics of slaves, insincerity and
cowardice. It is not wonderful, therefore, that the Tur¬
kish empire should decay. It not only labours under all
the evils attending upon the law of polygamy, and of a
government by viceroys called pachas ; but to these have
been added an internal division among the people, which
degrades the character of one half of the nation, with¬
out conferring any improvement upon the other. The
same evil has existed during many centuries in Hindoo-
stan. Before the conquest of it by the Mogul or Tar¬
tar princes, they had also embraced the Mahometan
faith. Their new subjects, however, the Hindoos, ad¬
hered to the religion of their ancestors, with still more
obstinacy than the Greek Christians have done against
the Turks, and the result has been similar. The Maho¬
metan conquerors, with all the advantages on their side,
of victory, of public employment, and royal favour’, ne¬
ver amounted to above one-tenth of the population of
the countryi The great body of the people, therefore,
necessarily sunk into a contemptible and degraded con¬
dition, which impaired the national strength, and re¬
tained society in a violent and unnatural state in which
it could not flourish. .
We can scarcely consider as religious systems the su- Hurtful re-
perstitions of the Siberians and Tartars, or other rude,18ious doc-
Asiatic tribes. Leaving them out of view, there fore,trmes*
the religions of Asia are chiefly three : that of Budho,
Gaudma, or Fo, which prevails in Ceylon, the far¬
ther peninsula of India, China, Japan, and Thibet;
the Mahometan religion, which, besides Arabia, is in
possession of Turkey, Persia, and partly of Hindoo-
stan 5 and, lastly, the Gentoo faith, which is adhered 259
to by ninety millions of people in India. Of these, Religion of
the religion of Budho, Gaudma, or Fo, seems the least ^u<^0,
pernicious. It is loaded with few ceremonies, so that
it cannot greatly occupy the human mind. It is per¬
fectly tolerant, and thus does not positively prohibit
intellectual improvement 5 and its priests are men
who voluntarily choose their profession, and, except¬
ing in the sterile country of Thibet, have no interfe¬
rence in the ordinary business of life, and no share in
the administration of public affairs. All error is, how¬
ever, injurious to the human intellect, by diminishing
its power of discerning truth. Even independent of
this general circumstance, the religion of Gaudma has
been dangerous in another point of view. It has a book
which is of sacred authority, and believed to be the
work of inspiration. That book is said to regulate mi¬
nutely the ordinary affairs of life ; the taxes to be paid
to the state, and what ought to be accounted just and
unjust in the common transactions of men : But an in¬
fallible law for the regulation of ordinary affairs is
always a great evil, as it renders error and ill govern¬
ment perpetual. Such a book, at the time when it was
written, might perhaps be a useful work, and contain
many valuable maxims and rules for adjusting all kinds
of business, and for the decision of all disputes •, but
human affairs, to proceed well, must be in a state of
improvement, that is, in a state of change to what is
belter : But such a book has a tendency to oblige the
nation that adopts it to stand still, and consequently to
fall behind other nations. Hence they have all the
5 G 2 chances
A S I
Asia.
260
Mahome¬
tan reli¬
gion.
961
Gentoo re¬
ligion.
chances of falling back into barbarism that affect other
nations, while there exists no possibility of their advan¬
cing farther in improvement.
I he Mahometan law has this speculative advantage
over that of Gaudma or Budho, that it suffers not the
supreme Intelligence to be likened to a stock or a stone j
but its practical character is much more injurious to
the world. It not only has an infallible book, which
m the countries where it is adopted is regarded as the
law of the land for regulating the decision of contro¬
verted causes in all courts of justice, but enjoins to its
followers the observance of a number of daily ceremo¬
nies, consisting of prayers and washings at stated inter¬
vals, which tend to fix down superstition upon the hu¬
man mind. In addition to these, its extreme intole¬
rance has a tendency to render the intellectual im¬
provement of the people that have once adopted it ex¬
tremely difficult, while the sanction that it gives to the
law of polygamy, at once places private society on a
defective footing, and ensures the bad government of
the state.
The most pernicious of all the religions of Asia,
however, appears to be the Gentoo superstition, or the
religion of the natives of Hindoostan. It does not in¬
deed authorize polygamy, nor does it sanction the per¬
secution of those who believe in other religions 5 but
in every other respect, it is most evidently ruinous to
the vigour of the human character. It fills the mind
with all the idle tales and superstitions of an absurd po¬
lytheism. It enjoins an endless variety of rites and pu¬
rifications j and under its influence a morsel of bread
cannot be eaten, or a cup of water tasted, without the
utmost caution, that it have not come into contact
with impure hands or impure vessels. The division
of the people into hereditary casts, of different degrees
of dignity according to their respective employments,
none of which casts can intermarry, or even eat or
drink together, completely insulates every class of in¬
habitants } and by fixing them down to hereditary oc¬
cupations, prevents every exertion of talents beyond
the sphere in which individuals happen to be born.
Religion, or superstitious fear of offending against the
rules of his cast, constantly occupies and absorbs the
whole mind and faculties of a Hindoo, so as utterly to
deprive him of intellectual vigour or courage to in¬
vestigate the foundations of the notions which place
under controul every step of his life. A people thus
divided can possess little united strength or energy as
a nation, and the feebleness even of their bodily exer¬
tions may well suggest the question, Whether supersti¬
tious fear and intellectual imbecility fixed down upon a
people during a course of ages, has not a tendency to
diminish the corporeal powers, and to render the body
as feeble as the mind ? In justice to the religion of the
Hindoos, hovyever, it may be observed, that if it pre¬
vent the nation from acquiring great power, it also
guards its civilization, or the arts that it possesses from
being entirely lost in consequence of conquests by
barbarians. Every Hindoo being bound by his reli¬
gion to follow the occupation of his father, if a whole
cast is not utterly exterminated, the arts which were
understood by its members cannot be lost. They are
immediately practised anew j they come to be in re¬
quest, and the cast is employed by society, and multi¬
plied as before.
[ 788 ]
A S I
That we may not appear, however, from a love of Ada.
system, altogether to deny the effect of physical causes
upon the history of the civilized nations of Asia, we 262
shall acknowledge, that the fertility of the soil in these IfflJencc.
countries in all probability assists the tendency to ne-eauses*!^
gligence of management which appears in their go-civilhed
vernments. In the more barren regions of Europe, itnations.
is absolutely necessary that a government act with a
considerable degree of caution, and administer justice
well, to enable a nation to attain to any tolerable share
of power or prosperity. With us, man has many im¬
perious wants, which must be supplied before an indi¬
vidual can contribute any thing to the public. He
must at least have food, which can only be extorted
from an ungrateful soil by patient and skilful indus¬
try. He must also have clothes and fuel. The ferti¬
lity of the Asiatic soil enables man to obtain food with
less labour than in Europe, while the mildness of the
climate subjects him to little expence on account of
fuel and clothing. Hence in these countries a much
less degree of industry is necessary for the support of
individuals, and to enable them to contribute some¬
thing towards the public revenue. Governments,
therefore, are not so soon brought under the necessity
of repairing their own errors. Abuses are more readi¬
ly allowed to multiply, and at last can be got quit of
with greater difficulty. Add to this, that in a coun¬
try whose inhabitants could not originally subsist with¬
out the exertion of much industry, a more vigorous
character is apt to diffuse itself among the people^ than
in those nations upon whom, in their rude state, the
slightest effort of labour conferred abundance, and who
have only come to find good management and industry
requisite, in consequence of the great multiplication of
their numbers.
Besides the revolutions occasioned by Tartar inva-Arabian
sions, several of the nations of Asia experienced a conquest,
great revolution from the arms of another barbarous
N race of men, the inhabitants of the peninsula of A-
rabia. Similar causes to those which have repeated¬
ly given victory to the Tartars, enabled the Arabians
to vanquish the neighbouring nations. They also exist
in a pastoral state, and are divided into tribes or fami¬
lies. The Arabians, however, have not been accu¬
stomed to conquest like the Tartars. Arabia is of
trifling extent, when compared to Tartary and its de¬
pendencies 5 its strength being less, it is less likely to
be engaged in distant enterprises. Unlike to Tartary,
it has always possessed some cities, and a part of the
people have connected themselves with the arts and
the commerce of the civilized nations around them.
Hence something more was necessary to rouse the A-
rabian nation, and to unite its members in one common
enterprise, than the mere love of dominion. The A-
rabs became conquerors, only because Mahomet was
successful in rendering them fanatics ; and they sub¬
dued the earth, not so much from a desire to possess its
riches and its luxuries, as from a zeal to extend the
glory of God, and to give the means of salvation to
mankind. When their religion had prevailed in all
directions, and other nations adopted the same spirit
and cause, the Arabians relapsed into their original un¬
importance, and ceased to be dangerous to the peace of
the world.
Of late some of the nations of Asia have undergone
subjugation
Asia.
464
European
conquests.
i6S
A S I [ 789 ]
subjugation, and others have been threatened with it, Germany.
' not from the ordinary quarter of Tartary, or from any
other race of barbarians, but from the enterprises of
the civilized nations of Europe. This new peril has
originated from several causes. The discovery of the
mariners compass, and the improvements which have
occurred in navigation, have brought the nations of
Asia, as it were, nearer to those of this north-west
corner of the globe, and exposed them in a greater de-
gree to their attacks. The nations of Europe, also,
from their better government, and from a religion which
prohibits polygamy, and which, at least in the protestant
states, interferes little in the affairs of this world, and
confers no dominion upon its priests, have of late been
enabled to make a more rapid progress in the improve¬
ment of every art, than was ever formerly done, and
among the rest they have improved the terrible art of
war. In the mean time, the civilized nations of Asia
have been either standing still as usual, satisfied with
their allotted measure of intelligence, or they have been
going backward. Thus the relative strength of these
two quarters of the world has been greatly altered, and
should any remarkable additional improvement in the
^ art of navigation be soon made, it is probable that all
Prospect of Asia will be enslaved by European nations. Should
•nuTa.Uny such an event take place, its first consequences will
® ' probably prove unfortunate. Europe will be corrupted,
while Asia will not be refoi-med. Its imperfect go¬
vernments, however, and its false religions, will be bro¬
ken up. The superiority of the human character in Eu¬
ropean countries is so great, and the population of North
America is increasing so rapidly, carrying the pursuits
of science and the practice of the arts in its train, that
there is little doubt the race of Europe must in a few
centuries obtain the dominion of the earth. A new
era, therefore, is commencing for Asia, the events of
which cannot be foreseen. From the short review,
however, which we have taken of that great continent,
we perceive, and we perceive with satisfaction, that
the most beautiful regions of this globe are by no
means unfit, as was supposed, for the production of a
vigorous and active race of men. The Hindoo is ti¬
mid and feeble ; but it is not his climate which ren¬
ders him so. In the same climate with Hindoostan,
and scarcely divided from it, a vigorous race of men
has been found to exist, forming a rising people, eager
to emulate the career of civilized and powerful nations.
It is the religion of the Hindoo, therefore, that is the
cause of his weakness, as the government of China is
the cause of the stationary character of its people.
Were these causes of feebleness removed, and above all
were the art of printing diffused, the nations of the
earth would probably by degrees approach nearer to a
similarity of mind and talents, than they have hitherto
been accounted capable of doing. Even Siberia itself,
by the great tracts of fertile land which attention to
its inland navigation is capable of laying open, may
one day contribute to the general stock of human
power and riches. It ought never to be forgotten that
this globe is given as a valuable domain or possession
to the human race, only in proportion to the degree in
which they subdue its native wildness or sterility j and
it becomes a fit and salubrious habitation for them, ac-
cordihg to the degree in which it is improved by culti¬
vation. Tbe rein-deer once wandered in the forests of
A S 1
. It cannot now live upon the shores of the
Baltic, and is forced to seek a region sufficiently cold
for its constitution, within the polar circle and in the
neighbourhood of the Icy sea. The progress of civili¬
zation and of agriculture have accomplished this change
in the climate of the north of Europe, and the descen¬
dants of Europeans may probably accomplish still great¬
er alterations upon the north of Asia.
Asta Minor, or Lesser Asia; the same withNatolia.
See Natolia.
ASIARCHiE, (termed by St Paul, Chief of Asia,
Acts xix. 31.) were the Pagan pontiffs of Asia, chosen
to superintend and have the care of the public games,
which they did at their own expence : for which rea¬
son they were always the richest and most considerable
men of the community.
ASIDE, in the drama, something said by an actor,
which some, or even all the other actors present are sup¬
posed not to hear j a circumstance justly condemned as
being unnatural and improbable.
ASIITO, a town of Italy, in Perugia, and in the
pope’s territories. E. Long. 23. 40. N. Lat. 43. o.
ASILUS, or Hornet-fly. See Entomology
Index.
ASINARA, an island of Italy, on the western coast
of Sardinia. E. Long. 8. 30. N. Lat. 41. o.
ASINIUS Pollio, a Roman consul and orator, di¬
stinguished himself under Augustus by his exploits and
his literary works. He is frequently mentioned with
praises by Horace and Virgil, and is said to have col¬
lected the first library at Rome. He died at Frescati,
at 80 years of age.
ASIONGABER, Esiongeber, or Eziongeber,
a town of Arabia Petraea, on the bay of Elath, a part
of the Arabian gulf: the dock or station for the ships
of Solomon and Jehoshaphat 5 an ancient town, men¬
tioned also by Moses. It was afterwards called Bere¬
nice (Josephus).
ASISlA, or Assisia, a town of Liburnia (Ptole¬
my, Antonine), now in ruins, but exhibiting many
monuments of antiquity. It is the Assesia or Asseria
of Pliny. This author, after having specified the Li-
burnian cities that were obliged to attend the congress
or diet of Scardona, adds to the catalogue the free
Asserians, immunesque Assei'iates; and this people, who
created their own magistrates, and were governed by
their own municipal laws, were no doubt more rich
and powerful than their neighbours.
The vestiges of the walls of Asseria that still remain,
are a sufficient proof of this ; for their circumference
is clearly distinguishable above ground, and measures
3600 Roman feet. The space enclosed by them forms
an oblong polygon, and they are built with common
Dalmatian marble; but not taken from the hill on
which they stand, for that furnishes only soft stone.
The walls are invested, both inside and out, with this
marble: some of the stones are ten feet long, and they
are all of considerable dimensions. The thickness of
these fortifications is commonly'about eight feet: but
at the narrowest extremity, which falls towards the foot
of the hill, they are eleven feet thick ; and, in some
parts, their height still above ground reaches to near
30 feet. An antiquary, or even a simple lover of tire
fine arts, or of erudition, the abbe Fortis observes,
cannot help wishing at Podgraje (the modern name of
Asseria
Asia
I
Asisia.
ASM t 796 ] A S O
Asisk Asseria), that some powerful hand quicquid sub terra
II est in apertum proferit: and such a wish becomes
Ama* stronger when he reflects, that since the destruction of
that city no search has ever been made under ground,
with a view to discover any thing curious $ and yet
these walls without doubt enclose a valuable deposite
of antiquities, thrown down in heaps, who knows by
what cause; perhaps naturally, by an earthquake, or
perhaps by a sudden inundation of barbarians, which
is still worse. The gate now demolished, the consider¬
able height of the walls to be seen in several places
from without, some pieces of thick walls that still ap¬
pear levelled to the ground among the bushes, are cir¬
cumstances which give ground to hope that many cost¬
ly monuments might be recovered out of these ruins.
The magnificence of the remaining wall, and the ma¬
ny pieces of well-cut stone and fine marbles scattered
over the contiguous fields, afford sufficient proof that
both good taste and grandeur once flourished in that
country. In the midst of the rubbish which covers the
remains of Asseria, the parish church of the little vil¬
lage stands insulated ; it is built of broken pieces of
ancient ruins, taken as they happened to be nearest,
mixed with mutilated inscriptions and fragments of
noble cornices.
ASISIO, or Asrxo, a city of the pope’s territo¬
ries in Italy, situated about 16 miles east of Perugia.
E. Long. 13. 35. N. Lat. 43.
ASKELON. See Ascalon.
ASKERON, a place five miles from Doncastefj
noted for a medicinal spring. It is a strong sulphureous
water, and is slightly impregnated with a purging salt.
It is recommended internally and externally in strumous
and other ulcers, scabs, leprosy, and similar complaints.
It is good in chronic obstructions, and in cases of worms
and foulness of the bowels.
ASKRIG, a town in the north riding of Yorkshire.
W. Long. o. 5. N. Lat. 53. 50.
ASLANI, in Commerce, a silver coin, worth from-
115 to 120 aspers. See Asper.
ASMONEUS, or Assamoneus, the father of Si¬
mon, and chief of the Asmoneans, a family that reigned
over the Jews 126 years.
ASNA, or Esna, a town in Upper Egypt, seated
upon the Nile, and occupying the site of the ancient
Latopolis. It is near the cataracts of the Nile, and
is the last place of any magnitude on the side of Nu¬
bia. It contains several monuments of antiquity $ and
among the rest an ancient Egyptian temple, pretty en¬
tire, all painted throughout, except in some places that
are effaced by time. The columns are full of hiero¬
glyphic figures. This structure is considered by De-
non as one of the most perfect monuments of an¬
cient architecture he' had seen. A little way from
thence are the ruins of an ancient nunnery, said to
be built by St Helena, surrounded with tombs.—As-
na is the principal town in these parts, and the in¬
habitants are rich in corn and cattle. They drive a
considerable trade into Lower Egypt and Nubia, by
means of the Nile, and also by the caravans that pass
over the desert. The inhabitants are all Arabs, ex¬
cept about 200 Copts, the ancient inhabitants, and a
sort of Christians. They are under the government of
the lurks, who have a cadi, and the Arabs have two
scheriffs of their own nation. E. Long. 32. 35. N. Lat. ask,!*
23- lS- |1
ASOLA, a town of the Bressan in Italy, belonging Asow.
to the republic of Venice. E. Long. 14. 18. N. Lat. '■ * ,lL
45- \5-
AbOSO, a town of Italy, in the Trevisan, seated
on a mountain 17 miles north-west of Treviso, and
10 north-east of Bassano. E. Long. 12. 2. N. Lat. 45.
49.
ASOPH, a town of Cuban Tartary, in Asia, seated
on the river Don, near its mouth, a little to the east
of the Palus Maeotis, or sea of Asoph. It has been
several times taken and retaken of late years •, but in
1739, the contending powers agreed that the fortifica¬
tions should be demolished j and the town remains under
the dominion of Russia. E. Long. 39. 5. N. Lat.
47. 18.
ASOPUS, a river of Phrygia Major, which, toge¬
ther with the Lycus, washes Laodicea, (Pliny).—Ano¬
ther of Boeotia, which running from Mount Cithseron,
and watering the territory of Thebes, separates it from
the territory of Plataea, and falls with an east course in¬
to the Euripus, at Tanagra. On this river Adrastus
king of Sicyon built a temple to Nemesis, thence
called Adrasteia. From this river Thebes came to be
surnamed Asopides, (Strabo). It is now called Asopo.
A third Asopus, a river of Peloponnesus, which runs
by Sicyon, (Strabo) ; and with a north-west course
falls into the Sinus Corinthiacus, to the west of Co-
rith.—A fourth, a small river of the Locri Epicne-
midii, on the borders of Thessaly, (Pliny) j rising in
Mount Oeta, and falling into the Sinus Maliacus.
Asopus, a town of Laconia, (Pausanias) ; on the
Sinus Laconicus, with a port in a peninsula, between
Boae to the east, and the mouth of the Eurotas to the
west. The citadel only remains standing, now called
by the sailors Castel Rampano.
ASOR, or Hasor, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the tribe of Judah, to the south -west, on the borders of
Ascalon, (Joshua) ; as also Hasor-Hadata, translated
by the Seventy Ao-uyi Kccivv (id).—Another Asor, Aso-
rus, or Hazor, a town of Galilee j called the capital
of all the kingdoms to the north of Palestine. It was
taken by Joshua ; the inhabitants were put to the
sword, and their houses burnt. It was afterwards re¬
built (Judges, I Sam.) 5 but remained still in the hands
of the Canaanites, though in the lot of the tribe of
Naphtali, (Joshua). It lay to the north of the La-
cus Samachonites, called in-Scripture the Waters oj
Merom (Josephus).
ASOW, a celebrated and important fortress of Rus¬
sia, once a place of considerable trade, but now demo¬
lished. It was situated in the district of Bachmut, near
the place where the Greeks many centuries ago built
the city of Tanais, which was very famous for its trade,
and underwent many vicissitudes. The Genoese, who
settled a trade with Russia soon after the discovery of
Archangel by Captain Chancellor, became masters of
this place, and gave it the name of Tana or Catana :
but the Tartars, who were very powerful in these parts,
seem to have been in possession of it long before : for,
as Busching informs us, there are Asow coins yet ex¬
tant, on which is the name of Tacktatnyss Kati. From
the Genoese it fell into the hands of the Turks, lost
iU
u
ASP [ 791 ] ASP
A»o\r its trade, ami became an inconsiderable town. 101637,
II it was taken by the Cossacks, who defended it against
Aspasia. t|ie Turks in 1641, and next year set fire to it, and
blew it up. The Turks rebuilt it with strong fortifica¬
tions. The Russians laid claim to it in 1672, and took
it in 1696; but, by the treaty of Pruth in 1711, it
was restored to the Turks. In 1736, the Russians be¬
came masters of Asow ; but by the treaty of Belgrade
they were obliged to relinquish it, and entirely destroy
the place.
ASP, in Natural History, a small poisonous kind of
serpent, whose bite gives a speedy but easy death. It
is said to be thus denominated from the Greek cttr-xts,
shield, in regard to the manner of its lying convolved
in a circle, in the centre of which is the head, which it
exerts, or raises, like the umbo or umbilicus of a buck¬
ler. This species of serpent is very frequently men¬
tioned by authors ; but so carelessly described, that it is
not easy to determine which, if any of the species known
at present, may properly be called by this name. It is
said to be common in Africa, and about the banks of
the Nile j and Bellonius mentions a small species of ser¬
pent which he had met with in Italy, and which had a
sort of callous excrescence on the forehead, which he
takes to have been the aspis of the ancients. It was with
the asp that Cleopatra is said to have despatched herself,
and prevented the designs of Augustus, who intended
to have carried her captive to adorn his triumphal entry
into Rome. But the fact is contested : Brown places it
among his vulgar errors. The indications of that queen’s
having used the ministry of the asp, were only two al¬
most insensible pricks found in her arm } and Plutarch
says it is unknown what she died of. At the same time,
it must be observed, that the slightness of the pricks
found in her arm furnishes no presumption against the
fact ; for no more than the prick of a needle point dipt
in the poison was necessary for the purpose.
Lord Bacon makes the asp the least painful of all the
instruments of death. He supposes it to have an affi¬
nity to opium, but to be less disagreeable in its opera¬
tion ; and his opinion seems to correspond with the ac¬
counts of most writers, as well as with the effects de¬
scribed to have been produced upon Cleopatra.
The ancients had a plaster called Atrsr^Ain, made of
this terrible animal, of great efficacy as a discutient of
strumse and other indurations, and used likewise against
pains of the gout. The flesh, and skin or exuviae, of
the creature, had also their share in the ancient materia
medica.
ASPA, a town of Parthia, (Ptolemy), now Ispahan,
(Holstenius). In Ptolemy the latitude seems to agree,
being 330; but whether the longitude does, is a ques¬
tion. E. Long. 51. o. N. Lat. 32. 30.
ASPALATHUS, African Broom. See Botany
Index.
ASPARAGUS, Sparagus, or Sparrow-grass.
See Botany Index.
ASPASIA of Miletus, a courtesan who settled at
Athens under the administration of Pericles, and one
of the most noted ladies of antiquity. She was of ad¬
mirable beauty : yet her wit and eloquence, still more
than her beauty, gained her extraordinary reputation
among all ranks in the republic. In eloquence she sur¬
passed all her contemporaries ; and her conversation was
so entertaining and instructive, that notwithstanding
the dishonourable commerce she carried on in female
virtue, persons of the first distinction, male and female,
resorted to her house as to an academy : she even num¬
bered Socrates among her hearers and admirers. She
captivated Pericles, in such a manner, that he dismissed
his own wife, in order to espouse her 5 and, by her
universal knowledge, irresistible elocution, and intrigu¬
ing genius, she in a great measure influenced the admi¬
nistration of Athens. She was accused of having ex¬
cited, from motives of personal resentment, the war of
Peloponnesus •, yet, calamitous as that long and obsti¬
nate conflict proved to Greece, and particularly to A-
thens, it may be suspected that Aspasia occasioned still
more incurable evils to both. Her example, and still
more her instructions, formed a school at Athens by
which her dangerous profession was reduced into system.
The companions of Aspasia served as models for paint¬
ing and statuary, and themes for poetry and panegyric.
Nor were they merely the objects, but the authors of
many literary works, in which they established rules
for the behaviour of their lovers, particularly at table ;
and explained the art of gaining the heart and capti¬
vating the affections. The dress, behaviour, and arti¬
fices of this class of women, became continually more
seductive and dangerous j and Athens thenceforth re¬
mained the chief school of vice and pleasure, as well as
of literature and philosophy.
ASPASTICUM, (from xrTrufrti**, “ I salute,”) in
ecclesiastical writers, a place, or apartment, adjoining
to the ancient churches, wherein the bishop and presby¬
ters sat, to receive the salutations of the persons who
came to visit them, desire their blessing, or consult
them on business.—This is also called aspasticum diu-
eonicum, receptorium, metatorium, or mesatormm, and
salutatorium: in English, “greeting-house.”
ASPECT, in Astronomy, denotes the situation of
the planets and stars with respect to each other.
There are five different aspects. 1. Sextile aspect is
when the planets or stars are 6c°-distant, and marked
thus *. 2. The quartile, or quadrate, when they are
90° distant, marked □. 3. Trine, when 120° distant,
marked A. 4. Opposition, when 1800 distant, mark¬
ed And, 5. Conjunction, when both in the same
degree, marked <$ .
Kepler, who added eight new’ ones, defines aspect
to be the angle formed by the rays of two stars meet¬
ing on the earth, whereby their good or bad influence
is measured : for it is to be observed, that .these aspects
being first introduced by astrologers, were distinguish¬
ed into benign, malignant, and indifferent ; the quar¬
tile and opposition being accounted malign ; the trine
and sextile, benign or friendly j and the conjunction,
indifferent.
ASPEN TREE. See Populus, Botany Index.
ASPER, in Grammar, an accent peculiar to the
Greek language, marked thus (*) ; and importing that
the letters over which it is placed ought to be strong¬
ly aspirated, or pronounced as if an h were joined with
them.
Asper, or Aspre, in Commerce, a Turkish coin, three
of which make a MEDINE.
ASPERIA arteria, in Anatomy, the same with the
windpipe or trachea. See Anatomy Index.
ASPERIFOLIATE, or Asperifolious, among
botanists, such plants as are rough-leaved, having their
leaves
Afpada
!i.
Asperifoli-
ate.
ASP [ 7Q2 ] ASP
Asperifoli- leaves placed alternately on^their stalks, and a mono-
ate petalous flower divided into five parts.—They consti-
As iJltites ^Ute an or^er plants in the Fragmetita methodi na-
■- 1 turalis of Linnseus, .in which are these genera, viz.
tournefortia, cerinthe, Symphytum, pulmonaria, an-
diusa, lithospermum, myosotis, heliotropium, cynoglos-
sum, asperugo, lycopsis, echium, borrago : magis mi-
imsve oleracece, mucilaginoscey et glutinosce sunt. Lin.
In the present system, these are among the pentandria
monogynia.
ASPEEIFOLIiE plants, rough-leaved plants j
the name of a class in Hermannus, Boerhaave, and
Ray’s methods, consisting of plants which have four
naked seeds, and whose leaves are rough to the touch.
In Tournefort’s System, these plants constitute the
third section or order of the second class j and in Lin¬
naeus’s Sexual Method, they make part of the pentan-
di’ia monogynia.
ASPERITY, the inequality of the surface of any
Imdy, which hinders the hand from passing over it
freely.—From the testimony of some blind persons, it
has been supposed that every colour hath its particular
degree of asperity: though this has been denied by
others. See the article Blind.
ASPEROSA, a town of Turkey in Europe; it is
a bishop’s see, situated on the coast of the Archipelago.
E. Long. 25. 20. N. Lat. 40. 58.
ASPERUGO, Small Wild Bugloss. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ASPERULA, Woodroof. See Botany Index.
ASPHALTITES, so called from the great quanti¬
ty of bitumen it produces ; called also the Dead sea ;
and from its situation, the East sea, the Salt sea, the
sea of Sodom, the sea of the Desert, and the sea of the
Elam, in the sacred writings : A lake of Judea.
Many things have been said and written of this famed,
or, if they were indeed true, rather infamous lake : such
as that it arose from the submersion of the vale of Siddim,
where once stood, as is commonly reported, the three,
cities which perished in the miraculous conflagration,
with those of Sodom and Gomorrah, for their unna¬
tural and detestable wickedness : on which account this
lake has been looked upon as a lasting monument of
the just judgment of God, to deter mankind from such
abominations. Hence it is added, that the waters of
the lake are so impregnated with salt, sulphur, and
other bituminous stuff, that nothing will sink or live in
it; and that it casts such stench and smoke, that the
very birds die in attempting to fly over it. The de¬
scription likewise of the apples that grew about it, fair,
without, and only ashes and bitterness within, were
looked upon as a farther monument of God’s anger.
So likewise the description which many travellers give
not only of the lake, but of all the country round
about, of the whole appearing dreadful to behold, all
sulphureous, bituminous, stinking, and suffocating:
and lastly, what hath been farther affirmed of the ruins
of the five cities being still to be seen in clear weather,
and having been actually seen in these latter times ; all
these surprising things, and ill-grounded notions, though
commonly, and so long, received among Christians,
have been of late so much exploded, not only by the
testimony of very credible witnesses, but even by argu¬
ments drawn from Scripture, that we must give them
»p as inventions, unless we will suppose the face and
2
nature of all these things to have been entirely chan-Agph«Jtite*.
ged. Those, in particular, of bodies not sinking in the v——
water, and of birds being stifled by the exhalations of
it, appear now false in fact, though it is true, that the
quantity of saline matters, with which it is impregnat¬
ed, renders it so much specifically heavier than fresh
wrater, that bodies will not so easily sink. Its waters
were found, by Dr Marcet in 1807, to have a specific
gravity of 1,211 ; but Klaproth, a German chemist,
found it to be 1,245, which is much higher than that of
sea water. But objects of all kinds above this specific
gravity are found to sink in it ; birds fly over it with¬
out injury, and according to Chateaubriand fishes live
in it. i he substances it holds in solution are nearly
the same as are found in sea water; muriates of lime,
of soda, and of magnesia. To reconcile these things
with the experiments which Pliny* tells us had been lliti.
made by Vespasian, is impossible, without supposing lib. v. cap.
that those ingredients have been since much exhausted, *5*
which is not very probable. With respect to its salt,
we are told, the Arabs make quantities of it from that
lake, in large pits about the shore, which they fill with
that water, and leave to be crystallized by the sun.
This salt is in some cases much commended by Galen,
as very wholesome, and a strengthener of the stomach,
&c. on account of its unpleasant bitterness.
What likewise relates to the constant smoke ascend¬
ing from the lake, its changing the colour of its water
three times a-day, so confidently affirmed by Josephus f
and other ancients, and confirmed by Prince Radziville lib. v. eap.
and other moderns, who pretend to have been eye-5*
witnessess of it, is all now in the same manner exploded
by authors of more modern date, and of at least equal
candour. The unhealthiness of the air about the lake
w'as affirmed by Josephus and Pliny, especially on the
west; the monks that live in the neighbourhood con¬
firm the same, and would have dissuaded Dr Pococke
from going to it on that account; and, as he ventured
to go and bathe in it, and was two days after seized
with a dizziness, and violent pain in the stomach,
which lasted near three weeks, they made no doubt
but it was occasioned by it; and he doth not seem to
contradict them. As to the water, it is, though clear,
so impregnated with salt, that those who dive into it
come out covered with a kind of saline matter. There
is one remarkable thing renting to this lake, general¬
ly agreed on by all travellers and geographers, viz.
that it receives the waters of Jordan, a considerable
river, the brooks of Jabbok, Kishon, Arnon, and other
springs, which flow into it from the adjacent moun¬
tains, and yet never overflows, though there is no visible
way to be found by which it discharges that great in¬
flux. Some naturalists have been greatly embarrassed
to find a discharge for these waters ; and have therefore
been inclined to suspect the. lake had a communication
with the Mediterranean. But, besides that we know
of no gulf to corroborate this supposition, it has been
demonstrated, by accurate calculation, that evapora¬
tion is more than sufficient to carry off the waters
brought by the river. It is, in fact, very considerable;
and frequently becomes sensible to the eye, by the fogs
with which the lake is covered at the rising of the sun,
and which are afterwards dispersed by the heat. It is
enclosed on the east and west with exceeding high
mountains, many of them craggy and dreadful to be¬
hold.
ASP [ml ASP
Asphaltites.holtl. On the north it has the plain of Jericho-, or, if
'1 v we take in both sides of the Jordan, it has the Great
Plain, properly so called, on the south ; which is open,
and extends beyond the reach of the eye. Josephus
gives this lake 580 furlongs in length, from the mouth
of the Jordan to the town of Segor, on the opposite end,
that is about 22 leagues j and about 150 furlongs or
5 leagues, in its greatest breadth ; but our modern ac¬
counts commonly give it 24 leagues in length, and 6
or 7 in breadth. On the west side of it is a kind of
promontory, where they pretend to show the remains
of Lot’s metamorphosed wife. Josephus says, it was
still standing in his time j but when Prince Radziville
inquired after it, they told him there was no such salt
pillar or statue to be found in all that part. However,
they have found means, about a century after him, to
recover, as they pretended to assure Mr Maundrell, a
block or stump of it, which may in time grow up, with
a little art, into its ancient bulk.
It is to be observed here, that the name of Dead sea
is not to be found in the sacred writings $ but hath been
given to this lake because no creature will live in it, on
account of its excessive saltness, or rather-bituminous
quality ; for the Hebrews rank sulphur, nitre, and bi¬
tumen, under the general name of salt. Howevei-,
some late travellers have found cause to suspect the com¬
mon report of its breeding no living creature 5 one of
them having observed, on the shore, two or three shells
of fish like those of an oyster, and which he supposes
to have been thrown up by the waves, at two miles
distance from the mouth of the Jordan, which he there
takes notice of, lest they should be suspected to have
been brought into the lake by that way. And Dr Po-
cocke, though he neither saw fish nor shells, tells us, on
the authority of a monk, that some sort of fish had been
caught in it; and this is confirmed by Chateaubriand,
who visited the shores of the lake in 1807. Mr Voir
ney, however, affirms that it contains neither animal
nor vegetable life. We see no verdure on its banks,
nor are fish to be found within its waters. But he
adds, that it is not true that its exhalations are pesti¬
ferous, so as to destroy birds flying over it. “ It is
very common (says he) to see swallows skimming its
surface, and dipping for the water necessary to build
their nests. The real cause which deprives it of vege¬
tables and animals is the extreme saltness of the water,
which is infinitely stronger than that of the sea. The
soil around it, equally impregnated with this salt, pro¬
duces no plants ; and the air itself, which becomes
loaded with it from evaporation, and which receives
also the sulphureous and bituminous vapours, cannot be
favourable to vegetation : hence the deadly aspect
which reigns around this lake. In other respects, the
ground about it, however, is not marshy ; and its wa¬
ters are limpid and incorruptible, as must be the case
with a dissolution of salt. The origin of this mineral
is easy to be discovered ; for on the south-west shore
are mines of fossil salt, of which I have brought away
several specimens. They are situated in the side of
the mountains which extend along that border ; and,
from time immemorial, have supplied the neighbouring
Arabs, and even the city of Jerusalem. We find also
on this shore fragments of sulphur and bitumen, which
the Arabs convert into a trifling article of commerce j
as also hot fountains, and deep crevices, which are dis*-
Yqv II. Part II. f
covered at a distance by little pyramids built on the Asplmltlte*,
brink of them. We likewise find a sort of stone, which, Asphaltum.
on rubbing, emits a noxious smell, burns like bitumen,v y-—
receives a polish like white alabaster, and is used for
the paving of court-yards. At intervals, we also meet
with unshapen blocks, which prejudiced eyes mistake
for mutilated statues, and which pass with ignorant and
superstitious pilgrims for monuments of the adventure
of Lot’s wife ; though it is nowhere said she W'as me¬
tamorphosed into stone like Niobe, but into salt, which
must have melted the ensuing winter.”
It is on account of this bitumen that it hath had the
name of Asphaltite lake, it being reported to have
thrown up great quantities of that drug, which was
much in use among the Egyptians, and other nations,
for embalming of dead bodies. Josephus assures us, that
in his days it rose in lumps as big as an ox without its
head, and some even larger. But whatever it may have
formerly done, we are assured by Mr Maundrell and
others, that it is now to be found but in small quanti¬
ties along the shore, though in much greater near the
mountains on both sides the lake.- But the contrary is
since affirmed by two or more late * travellers ; one * Poeocke’s
of whom tells us, that it is observed to float on the sur- Travels,
face of the water, and to come on the shore after windy P" 5$*
weather, where the Arabians gather it, and put it to
all the uses that common pitch is used for, even in
the composition of some medicines ; and another + tells f Shaw's
us, he was there informed, that it was raised at certain Travels,
times from the bottom, in large hemispheres, which, P* 374*
as soon as they touch the surface, and are acted upon
by the external air, burst at once, with great noise and
smoke like the pulvis fulminans of the chemists, dispers¬
ing themselves about in a thousand pieces. From both
these judicious authors we may conclude the reason of
Mr Maundrell’s mistake, both as to the lake’s throw¬
ing it up only on certain seasons (that reverend gentle¬
man might chance to be there at the wrong time) j
and likewise as to his not observing it about the shores,
seeing the Arabs are there ready to gather it as soon
as thrown up : all of them describe it as resembling our
black pitch, so as not to be distinguished from it but
by its sulphureous smoke and stench when set on fire j
and it has been thought to be the same with that which
our druggists sell under the name of bitumen Judaicum,
or Jewish pitch, though we have reason to think that
this last is factitious, and that there is now none of the
right asphaltum brought from Judea.
It hath, moreover, been confounded with a sort of
blackish combustible stone thrown on the shore, and
called by some Moses's stone, which being held in the
flame of a candle, will soon burn, and cast a smoke and
intolerable stench ; but with this extraordinary pro¬
perty, that though it loses much of its weight and co¬
lour, it becoming in a manner white, yet it diminishes
nothing in its bulk. But these, Dr Boeocke tells us,
are found about two or three leagues from the shore.
He concludes, however, from it.,, that a stratum of that
stone under the lake is probably one part of the matter
that feeds the subterraneous fire, and causes the bitu¬
men to. boil up out of it, See Asphaltites, Sup-
PLEJUIENT.
ASPHALTUM, Bitumen Judaicum, or Jews
Pitch, is a light,solid* bitumen, of a dusky colour on
the outside,, and a deep shining black within 4 of very
5 H little •
ASP [7
Asp haltutn liltlc taste ; and having scarcely any smell, unless heat-
[) ed, when it emits a strong pitchy one. It is found in
Aspicueta. a soft or liquid state on the surface of the Dead sea, and
v "l 1 by age grows dry and hard. The same kind of bitu¬
men is met with likewise in the earth, in other places of
the world, in China, America, and in some places of
Europe, as the Carpathian hills, France, Neufchatel,
&c. There are several kinds of Jews pitch in the
shops: but none of them are the genuine sort, and have
little other title to their name than their being artifi¬
cially compounded by Jews j and as they are a medley
of we know not what ingredients, their medicinal use
begins to be deservedly laid aside, notwithstanding the
discutient, resolvent, pectoral, and other virtues attri¬
buted to this bitumen by the ancients. The true as-
phaltum was formerly used in embalming tbe bodies of
the dead. The thick and solid asphalta are at present
employed in Egypt, Arabia, and Persia, as pitch for
ships •, as the fluid ones, for burning in lamps, and for
varnishes. Some writers relate, that the wall of Ba¬
bylon, and the temple of Jerusalem, were cemented
with bitumen instead of mortar. This much is cer¬
tain, that a true natural bitumen, that for instance
which is found in the district of Neufchatel, proves an
excellent cement for walls, pavements, and other pur¬
poses, uncommonly firm, very durable in the air, and
not penetrable by water. The watch and clock makers
use a composition of asphaltum, fine lamp black, and
oil of spike or turpentine, for drawing the black figures
on dial plates: this composition is prepared chiefly by
certain persons at Augsburg and Nuremberg. See the
preceding article.
ASPHODELUS, Asphodel, or King’s Spear.
See Botany Index.
ASPHURELATA, in Natural History, are semi-
metallic fossils, fusible by fire, and not malleable in
their purest state, being in their native state intimately
mixed with sulphur and other adventitious matter, and
reduced to what are called ores.
Of this series of fossils there are only five bodies,
each of which makes a distinct genus 5 viz. antimony,
bismuth, cobalt, zinc, and quicksilver.
ASPICUETA, Martin de, commonly called the
Doctor of Navarre, or Doctor Navan'us, was de¬
scended of a noble family, and born the 13th of De¬
cember 1491, at Varasayn, a small city of Navarre,
not far from Pampeluna. He entered very young into
the monastery of regular canons at Roncevaux, where
he took the habit, which he continued to wear after he
left the convent. He studied classical learning, natural
and moral philosophy, and divinity, at Alcala, in New
Castile, adopting chiefly the system of Petrus Lombar-
dus, commonly called the Master of the Sentences. He
applied to the study of the law at Ferrara, and taught
it with applause at Toulouse and Cahors. After being
first professor of canon law at Salamanca for 14 years,
he quitted that place to be professor of law at Coim¬
bra, with a larger salary. The duties of this office he
discharged for the space of 20 years, and then resigned
it to retire into his own country, where he took care of
his nieces, the daughters of his deceased brothers. Hav¬
ing made a journey to Rome to plead the cause of
Bartholomeo de Caranza archbishop of Toledo, who
had been accused of heresy before the tribunal of the
inquisition in Spain, and whose cause was, by the Pope’s
94 ] ASS
order, to be tried in that city, Aspicueta’s writings, Aspicuet*
which were well known, procured him a most honour- [j
able reception. Pope Pius V. made him assistant to Assassin.
Cardinal Francis Aciat, his vice penitentiary 5 and Gre- ’—“—Y" j
gory XIII. never passed by his door without calling for
him, and stopped sometimes a whole hour to talk with
him in the street. His name became so famous, that
even in his lifetime the highest encomium on a learned
man was to call him a Navarrus. He was consulted
as an oracle. By temperance he prolonged his life to
a great length. His economy enabled him to give
substantial proofs of his charity. Being very old, he
used to ride on a mule through the city, and relieved
all the poor he met ; to which his mule was so well ac¬
customed, that it stopped of its own accord at the sight
of every poor man, till his master had relieved him. He
refused several honourable posts in church and state,
that he might have leisure to correct and improve the
works he had already written, and compose others. He
died at the age of 94, on the 2ist of June 1586. He
wrote a vast number of treatises, all which are either on
morality or common law.
ASPIRATE, in Grammar, denotes words marked
with the spiritus asper. See Asper.
ASPIRATION, among grammarians, is used to
denote the pronouncing a syllable with some vehe¬
mence.
ASPEENIUM, Ceterach. See Botany Index.
ASS, in 7iOohgy, is ranged as a species of equus, or
horse. See Mammalia Index.
Coronation of the Ass, in antiquity, was a part of
the ceremony of the feast of Vesta, wherein the bakers
put bread crowns on the heads of these quadrupeds;
JEcce coronatis panis dependet asellis*. Hence, in an * Ovii.
ancient calendar, the ides of June are thus denoted;-FW. vi
Festum est Vestee. Asinus coronatur !—This honour, it 3II"
seems, was done the beast, because, by its braying, it
had saved Vesta from being ravished by the Lampsacan
god. Hence the formula, Vestce delicium est asinus.
ASSAI, in Music, signifies quick ; and, according
to others, that the motion of the piece be kept in a
middle degree of quickness or slowness. As, assai al¬
legro, assaipresto. See Allegro and Presto.
ASSAM, a kingdom of eastern Asia. See Supple¬
ment.
ASSANCALA, a strong town in Armenia, near
the river Arras, in the road between Erzerum and E-
rivan, and noted for its hot baths. It stands on a high
hill, and has walls round it, strengthened with towers.
E. Long. 41. 30. N. Lat. 39. 46.
ASSANCHIF, a town of Asia, in Diarbekir, seated
on the river Tigris. E. Long. 42. 30. N. Lat. 37. 20.
ASSANS. See Assens.
ASSARIUM, in antiquity, denotes a small copper
coin, being a part or diminutive of the as. Tbe word
urcrupov is used by Suidas indifferently'with c/SoXeg and
vopirpx, to denote a small piece of money; in which he
is followed by Cujacius, who defines xrreepet by Mini¬
mus ceris nummus. We find mention of the assarion
in the gospel of St Matthew, chap. x. ver. 29.
ASSARON, or Omer, a measure of capacity, in
use among the Hebrews, containing five pints. It was
the measure of manna which God appointed for every
Israelite.
ASSASIN, or Assassin, a person who kills ano¬
ther
Assassin.
' * 
ASS [ 795 ] ASS
ther with the advantage either of an inequality in the
J weapons, or by means of the situation of the place, or
by attacking him at unawares.
The word assassin is said by some to have been brought
from the Levant, where it took its rise from a certain
prince of the family of the Arsacidce, popularly called
Assassins, living in a castle between Antioch and Da¬
mascus, and bringing up a number of young men,
ready to pay a blind obedience to his commands ;
whom he employed in murdering the princes with
whom he was at enmity. But according to Mr Vol-
ney, the word Hassassin (from the root hass, “ to kill,
to assassinate, to listen, to surprise,”) in the vulgar Ara¬
bic signifies “ Robbers of the night,” persons who lie
in ambush to kill; and is very universally understood in
this sense at Cairo and in Syria. Hence it was ap¬
plied to the Batenians, who slew by surprise. See the
next article.
There was a certain law of nations, an opinion, re¬
ceived in all the republics of Greece and Italy, where¬
by he that assassinated an usurper of the supreme power
was declared a virtuous man. At Rome especially,
after the expulsion of the kings, the law-was formal
and solemn, and instances of it admitted. The com¬
monwealth armed the hand of any citizen, and created
him a magistrate for that moment.
Assassins, a tribe or clan in Syria, called also Is-
maelians and Batanists or Batenians. These people pro¬
bably owed their origin to the Karmatians, a famous
heretical sect among the Mahometans, who settled in
Persia about the year 1090 ; whence, in process of
time, they sent a colony into Syria, where they be¬
came possessed of a considerable tract of land among
the mountains of Lebanon, extending itself from the
neighbourhood of Antioch to Damascus.
The first chief and legislator of this remarkable tribe
appears to have been Hassan Sabah, a subtile impostor,
who by his artifices made fanatical and implicit slaves
of his subjects. Their religion was compounded of
that of the Magi, the Jews, the Christians, and the Ma¬
hometans $ but the capital article of their creed was
to believe that the Holy Ghost resided in their chief;
that his orders proceeded from God himself, and were
real declarations of his divine pleasure. To this mo¬
narch the orientals gave the name of Scheik ; but he is
better known in Europe by the name of the Old Man
of the Mountain. His dignity, instead of being here¬
ditary, was conferred by election, where merit, that
is, a superior multiplicity and enormity of crimes, was
the most effectual recommendation to a majority of suf¬
frages.
This chief, from his exalted residence on the summit
of Mount Lebanon, like a vindictive deity, with the
thunderbolt in his hand, sent inevitable death to all
quarter's of the world; so that from one end of the earth
to the other, caliphs, emperors, sultans, kings, prin¬
ces, Christians, Mahometans, and Jew’s, every nation
and people, execrated and dreaded his sanguinary power,
from the strokes of which there was no security. At
the least suggestion or whisper that he had threatened
the death of any potentate, all immediately doubled
their guards, and took every other precaution in their
power. It is known that Philip Augustus king of
France, on a premature advice that the scheik intended
to have him assassinated, instituted a new body-guard
of men distinguished for their activity and courage, Assassin.
called sergcns d'armes, with brass clubs, bows and ar- ' v 
rows : and he himself never appeared without a club,
fortified either with iron or gold. Most sovereigns
paid secretly a pension to the scheik, however scan¬
dalous and derogatory it might be to the lustre of ma¬
jesty, for the safety of their persons. The Knights
lemplars alone dared to defy his secret machinations
and open force. Indeed they were a permanent dis¬
persed body, not to be cut off by massacres or assassi¬
nations.
J his barbarous prince was furnished with resources
unknown to all other monarchs, even to the most ab¬
solute despotic tyrant. His subjects would prostrate
themselves at the foot of his throne, requesting to die
by his hand or order, as a favour by which they were
sure of passing into paradise. On them if danger
made any impression, it was an emulation to press for¬
ward ; and if taken in any enterprise, they went to
the place of execution with a magnanimity unknown
to others. Henry count of Champagne, who mar¬
ried Isabella daughter of Amaury king of Jerusalem,
passing over part of the territory of the Assassins in his
way to Syria, and talking highly of his power, their
chief came to meet him. “ Are your subjects (said the
old man of the mountain) as ready in their submission
as mine?” and without staying for an answer, made a
sign with his hand, when ten young men in white,
who were standing on an adjacent tower, instantly
threw themselves down. On another occasion, Sultan
Malek-Shah summoning the scheik to submit himself
to his government, and threatening him with the power
of his arms, should he hesitate to comply ; the latter
very composedly turning himself towards his guards,
said to one of them, “ Draw your dagger, and plunge
it into your breast;” and to another, “ Throw yourself
headlong from yonder rock.” His orders were no
sooner uttered than they were joyfully obeyed: and all
the answer he deigned to give the sultan’s envoy was,
“Away to thy master, and let him know I have ma¬
ny thousand subjects of the same disposition.” Men
so ready to destroy themselves were equally alert and
resolute in being the ministers of death to others. At
the command of their sovereign, they made no diffi¬
culty of stabbing any prince, even on his throne ; and
being well versed in the different dialects, they con¬
formed to the dress and even the external religion of
the country, that they might with less difficulty strike
the fatal blow required by their chief. With the Sara¬
cens they were Mahometans ; with the Franks, Chri¬
stians : in one place they joined with the Mamelukes;
in another, with the ecclesiastics or religious; and un¬
der this disguise seized the first opportunity of execu¬
ting their sanguinary commission. Of this we meet
with an instance, in the history of Saladin, while he
was besieging Manbedge, the celebrated Hieropolis of
antiquity. Being one day, with a few attendants, and
they at some distance, reconnoitring the place for the
better disposition of the attack, a man rushed on him
with a dagger in his hand, and wounded him on the
head ; but the sultan, as he was endeavouring to repeat
his stroke, wrested the dagger from him, and, after re¬
ceiving several wounds, laid him dead at his feet. Be¬
fore the sultan had well recovered himself, a second
encountered him to finish the treachery of the former;.
5 H 2 but
ASS [ 796 ] ASS
Assassins but he met with the same fate: he was succeeded with
|{ equal fury by a third, who also fell by the hand of that
Assay- magnanimous prince whom he was sent to assassinate.
v And it was observed that these wretches dealt about
their fruitless blows as they lay in the agonies of death.
With such rapidity was this transacted, that it was over
before Saladin’s guards could come to his assistance.
He retired to his tent, and in great perturbation throw¬
ing himself on bis sofa, ordered his servants to take a
strict view of his household, and to cashier all suspected
persons ; at the same time asking with great earnestness,
“ Of whom have I deserved such treacherous usage ?”
But it afterwards appeared, that these villains bad been
sent by the old man of the mountain ; of whom the vi¬
zir Kamscheglin had purchased the murder of Saladin,
to free himself from so great a warrior, whom he could
not meet iu the field. To animate them in their frantic
obedience, thescheik, before their departure on such at¬
tempts, used to give them a small foretaste of some of
the delights which he assured them would be their re¬
compense in paradise. .Delicious soporific drinks were
given them ; and while they lay asleep, they were car¬
ried into beautiful gardens, where every allurement in¬
vited their senses to the most exquisite gratifications.
From these seats of voluptuousness, inflamed with li¬
quor and enthusiastic views of perpetual enjoyments,
they sallied forth to perform assassinations of the black¬
est dye.
This people once had, or at least they feigned to have,
an intention of embracing the Christian religion. They
reigned a long time in Persia and on Mount Lebanon.
Hulaku, a khan of the Mogul Tartars, in the year 655
of the Hegira, or 12,54 ^ie Christian era, entered
their country and dispossessed them of several places $
but it was not till the year 1272 that they were total¬
ly conquered. This achievement was owing to the
conduct and intrepidity, of the Egyptian forces sent
against them by the sultan Bibaris. It has, however,
been thought, that the Druses, who still reside among
the eminences of Mount Lebanon, and whose religion
and customs are so little known, are a remnant of those
barbarians.
ASSAULT, in Law, is an attempt to offer to beat
another, without touching him : as if one lifts up his
cane or his fist in a threatening manner at another j or
strikes at him, but misses him : this is an assault, in-
sultus, which Finch describes to be “ an unlawful set¬
ting upon one’s person.” This also is an inchoate vio¬
lence, amounting considerably higher than bare threats j
and therefore, though no actual suffering is proved, yet
the party injured may have redress by action of trespass
vi et armis, wherein he shall recover damages as a com¬
pensation for the injury.
Assault, in the military art, a furious effort made
to carry a fortified post, camp, or fortress, wherein the
assailants do not screen themselves by any works : while
the assault continues, the batteries cease, for fear of kil¬
ling their own men. The enfans perdus march first to
the assault. See Enfans Perdus.
ASSAY, Essay, or Say, in Metallurgy, the proof
or trial of the goodness, purity, value, &c. of metals and
metalline substances. See Essay.
In ancient statutes this is called touch; and those
who had the care of it keepers of the touch.—Under
Henry VI. divers cities were appointed to have touch
for wrought silver-plate, 2 Hen. VI. c. 14.—By this, A
one might imagine they had no better method of as- jj }
saying than the simple one by the touchstone ; but Assay-ma-
the case is far otherwise. In the time of King Hen- ^er-
ry II. the bishop of Salisbury, then treasurer, consi-' ’'v
dering that though the money paid into the king’s ex¬
chequer for his crown rents did not answer numero et
pondere, it might nevertheless be mixed with copper or
brass : wherefore a constitution was made, called the
trial by combustion ; which differs little or nothing from
the present method of assaying silver. See a descrip¬
tion of it in the Black Book in the Exchequer, writ¬
ten by Gervase of Tilbury, c. xxi. This trial is also
there called essaium, and the oflicer who made it is
named/mso/\ The method still in use of assaying gold
and silver was first established by an act of the English
parliament 1354.
Assaying, Ars Docimastica, in its extent, compre¬
hends particular manners of examining every ore, or
mixed metal, according to its nature, with the best-
adapted fluxes; so as to discover, not only what metals,
and what proportions of metal, are contained in ores ;
but likewise how much sulphur, alum, &c. may be ob¬
tained from each respectively. See Mineralogy In¬
dex. See also Assaying, Supplement.
Assaying is more particularly used by moneyers and
goldsmiths, for the making a proof or trial by the
cuppel, or test, of the fineness or purity of the gold
and silver to be used in the coining of money, and ma¬
nufacture of plate, &c. or that have been already used
therein.
There are two kinds of assaying j the one before
metals are melted, in order to bring them to their pro¬
per fineness j the other after they are struck, to see that
the species be standard. For the first assay, the assayers
used to take 14 or 15 grains of gold, and half a drachm
of silver, if it be for money; and 18 grains of the one,
and a drachm of the other, if for other occasions. As
to the second assay, it is made of one of the pieces of
money already coined, which they cut in four parts.
The quantity of gold for an assay among us is six grains ;
in France nearly the same ; and in Germany, about
three times as much.
The proper spelling of that word, however, is es¬
say ; under which article, therefore, the reader will
find the subject more particularly treated.
AssAY-Balance, or Essay-Balance. The flat pieces of
glass often placed under the scales of an assay-balance,
seem, by their power of electricity, capable of attract¬
ing, and thereby making the lighter scale preponde¬
rate, where the whole matter weighed is so very small.
See Essay-BALANCE.
The electricity of a flat surface of about three inches
square has been known to hold down one scale, when
there were about 200 grains weight in the other. See
Balance.
Assay-Master, or Essay-Master, an officer under cer¬
tain corporations, intrusted with the care of making
true touch, or assay, of the gold and silver brought to
him ; and giving a just report of the goodness or bad¬
ness thereof. Such is the assay-master of the mint in
the Tower, called also assayer of the king.
The assay-master of the goldsmith’s company is a sort
of assistant-warden, called also a touch-warden, appoint¬
ed to survey, assay, and mark all the silver-work, &c.
committed
ASS [ 797 ] A S S
Assay-ma- committed to him. There are also assay-masters ap-
ster pointed by statute at York, Exeter, Bristol, Chester,
11 _ Norwich, Newcastle, and Birmingham, for assaying
Assemblies. wrot,g|,(; p]ate. The assay-master is to retain eight
grains of every pound troy of silver brought to him ;
four whereof are to be put in the pix, or box of deal,
to be re-assayed the next year, and the other four to
be allowed him for his waste and spillings.
Note, The number of pennyweights set down in the
assay-master’s report, is to be accounted as per pound,
or so much in every pound of 12 ounces troy. Tor
every 20 pennyweight, or ounce troy, the silver is
found by the assay to be worse than standard or ster¬
ling, sixpence is to be deducted j because every ounce
will cost so much to reduce it to standard goodness, or
to change it for sterling.
In gold, for every carat it is set down to be worse
than standard, you must account that in the ounce troy
it is worse by so many times 3s. 8d. 5 and for every
grain it is set down worse, you must account it worse
by so many times lid. in the ounce troy; and for eve¬
ry half grain 5|d. : for so much it will cost to make it
of standard goodness, &c.
ASSELYN, John, a famous Dutch painter, was
horn in Holland, and became the disciple of Isaiah
Vandervelde the battle-painter. He distinguished him¬
self in history-painting, battles, landscapes, animals, and
particularly horses. He travelled into France and Ita¬
ly ; and was so pleased with the manner ofBambochio,
that he always followed it. He painted many pictures
at Lyons, where he married the daughter of a merchant
of Antwerp, and returned with her to Holland. Here
he first discovered to his countrymen a fresh and clear
manner of painting landscapes, like Claude Lorraine ;
upon which all the painters imitated his style, and
reformed the dark brown they had hitherto follow¬
ed. Asselyn’s pictures were so much admired at Am¬
sterdam, that they sold there at a high price. He died
in that city in 1660. Twenty-four pieces of land¬
scapes and ruins, which he painted in Italy, have been
engraved by Perelle.
ASSEMBLAGE, the uniting or joining of things
together ; or the things themselves so united or join¬
ed. It is also used, in a more general sense, for a col¬
lection of various things so disposed and diversified, that
the whole produces some agreeable effect.
ASSEMBLY, the meeting of several persons, in
the same place, upon the same design.
Assembly, in the beau-monde, an appointed meet¬
ing of fashionable persons of both sexes, for the sake of
play, dancing, gallantry, convei'sation, &c.
Assembly, in the military art, the second beating of
a drum before a march; at which the soldiers strike their
tents, roll them up, and stand to arms.
Assemblies of the clergy are called convocations,
synods, councils. The annual meeting of the church
of Scotland is called a General Assembly : In this as¬
sembly his Majesty is represented by his Commissioner,
who dissolves one meeting, and calls another, in the
name of the King, while the Moderator does the same
in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Assemblies of the Homan people were called co-
mitia.
Under the Gothic governments, the supreme legisla¬
tive power was lodged in an assembly of the states of
- ' 2
the kingdom held annually for the like purposes as Assemblies
our parliament. Some remains of this usage subsisted jj
in the annual assemblies of the states of some provinces Assets,
of France previous to the late revolution ; but these '
were no more than shadows of the ancient assemblies.
It is only in Great Britain, and perhaps in Sweden,
that such assemblies retain their ancient powers and
privileges.
ASSENS, a sea-port town of Denmark, situated
upon the Little Belt, a strait of the Baltic, which se¬
parates the isle of Funen from the continent. It is the
common passage from the duchy of Sleswick to Copen¬
hagen. E. Long. 10. 30. N. Lat. 55. 15.
ASSENT, in a general sense, implies an agreement
to something proposed or affirmed by another.
Royal Assent, the approbation given by the king
to a bill in parliament, after which it becomes a law.
ASSER, John, or Asserius Menevensis, that
is, Asset' of St Da vid's, bishop of Shirburn in the reign
of Alfred the Great. He was born in Pembrokeshire
in South Wales; and educated in the monastery of St
David’s by the archbishop Asserius, who, according to
Leland, was his kinsman. In this monastery he be¬
came a monk, and by his assiduous application soon ac¬
quired universal fame as a person of profound learning
and great abilities. Alfred, the munificent patron of
genius, about the year 880, sent for him to court.
The king was then at Dean in Wiltshire. He was so
charmed with Asser, that he made him his preceptor
and companion. As a reward for his services, he ap¬
pointed him abbot of two or three different monaste¬
ries : and at last promoted him to the episcopal see of
Shirburn, where he died and was buried in the year
910. He was, says Pits, a man of happy genius,
wonderful modesty, extensive learning, and great in¬
tegrity of life. He is said to have been principally in¬
strumental in persuading the king to restore the uni¬
versity of Oxford to its pristine dignity and lustre. He
wrote, De vita et rebus gestis Alfredi, &c. Lond. 1574,
published by Archbishop Parker, in the old Saxon
character, at the end of Walsinghami hist. Francf.
1602, fol. Oxf. 1722, 8vo. Many other works are
ascribed to this author by Gale, Bale, and Pits ; but all
doubtful.
ASSERIA. See Asisia.
ASSERTION, in the language of the schools, a
proposition advanced by the assertor, who avows the
truth of it, and is ready to defend it.
ASSESSOR, an inferior officer of justice appointed
chiefly to assist the ordinary judge with his opinion and
advice.
Assessor is also one who assesses, or settles taxes
and other public dues.
ASSETS, in Law, signifies goods enough to dis¬
charge that burden which is cast upon the executor or
heir, in satisfying the debts and legacies of the testator
or ancestor. Assets are real or personal. Where a
man hath lands in fee simple, and dies seised thereof,
the lands which come to his heirs are assets real ; and
where he dies possessed of any personal estate, the goods
which come to the executors are assets personal. As¬
sets are also divided into assets by descent, and assets
in hand. Assets by descent is where a person is bound
in an obligation, and dies seised of lands which de¬
scend to the heir, the land shall be assets, and the
ASS [ 798 ] ASS
A^cts fieir shall he charged as far as the lands to him descend-
II ed will extend. Assets in hand in when a man indebted
Assicnto. ^ makes executors, and leaves them sufficient to pay his
debts and legacies ; or where some commodity or profit
aiiseth to them in right of the testator: this is called
assets in their hands.
ASSEVERATION, a positive and vehement affir¬
mation of something.
ASSHETON, William, doctor of divinity, and
rector ol Beckenham, in Kent, was born in the year
1641, and was educated at Brazen-nose college, Ox¬
ford. After entering into orders, he became chaplain
to the duke of Ormond, and was admitted doctor of
divinity in 1673. Soon after, he was nominated to a
prebend in the church of York, presented to the living
of St Antholin, London, and to the rectory of Beck¬
enham in Kent. He was the first projector of the
scheme for providing for clergymen’s widows, and
others, by a jointure payable out of the mercers com¬
pany. He wrote several pieces against the Papists and
Dissenters, and some devotional tracts. He died at
Beckenham in September 1711, in the 70th year of his
age.
ASSIDEANS, or Chasidteans, (from the Hebrew
chasidim, “ merciful, pious”) ; those Jews who resorted
to Mattathias to fight for the law of God and the liber¬
ties oi their country. They were men of great valour
and zeil, having voluntarily devoted themselves to a
more strict observation of the law than other men. For
after the return of the Jews from the Babylonish capti¬
vity, there were two sorts of men in their church ; those
who contented themselves with that obedience only
which was prescribed by the law of Moses, and who
were called Zadikim, i. e. the righteous ; and those who,
over and above the law, superadded the constitutions
and traditions of the elders, and other rigorous obser¬
vances : these latter were called Chasidim, i. e. the
pious. From the former sprung the Samaritans, Saddu-
cees, and Caraites ; from the latter, the Pharisees and
the Essenes.
ASSIDEN F signs, in Medicine, are symptoms
which usually attend a disease, but not always j hence
differing from pathognomic signs, which are inseparable
from the disease : e. gr. in the pleurisy, a pungent
pain in the side, in an acute fever, difficulty of breath-
ing, &c. collectively taken, are pathognomic signs j
but that the pain extends to the hypochondrium or cla¬
vicle, or that the patient lies with more ease on one side
than on the other, are assident signs.
ASSIDUUb, or Adsiduus, among the Romans,
denoted a rich or wealthy person. The word in this
sense is derived from as assis, q. d. a moneyed man.
lienee we meet with assiduous sureties, assidui Jidejusso-
res, answering to what the French now call city sureties
or securities, cautions bourgeois.
When Servius Tullius divided the Roman people in¬
to five classes, according as they were assessed or taxed
to the public, the richer sort who contributed asses were
denominated assidui ; and as these were the chief people
of business who attended all the public concerns, those
who were diligent in attendances came to be denomina¬
ted assidui.
A&SIENTO, a Spanish word signifying a farm., in
commerce, is used for a bargain between the king of
Spain and other powers, for importing negroes into the
Spanish dominions in America, and particularly to Bue¬
nos Ayres. The first assiento was made with the French
Guinea company \ and, by the treaty of Utrecht, trans¬
ferred to the English, who were to furnish 4800 ne¬
groes annually.
ASSIGN, in Common Law, a person to whom a
thing is assigned or made over.
ASSIGNATION, an appointment to meet. The
word is generally understood of love-meetings.
ASSIGNEE, in Law, a person appointed by ano¬
ther to do an act, transact some business, or enjoy a par¬
ticular commodity.
ASSIGNING, in a general sense, implies the mak¬
ing over the right of one person to another. In a par¬
ticular sense, it signifies the pointing out of something}
as, an error, false judgment, &c.
ASSIGNMENT, the transferring the interest one
has in a lease, or other thing, to another person.
ASSIMILATION, in Physics, is that motion by
which bodies convert other bodies related to them, or
at least such as are prepared to be converted, into their
own substance and nature. Thus, flame multiplies
itself upon oily bodies, and generates new flame } air
upon water, and produces new air} and all the parts,
as well similar as organical, in vegetables and animals,
first attract with some election or choice, nearly the
same common or not very different juices for aliment,
and afterwards assimilate or convert them to their own
nature.
ASSISE, in old English law-books, is defined to be
an assembly of knights, and other substantial men, to¬
gether with a justice, in a certain place, and at a cer¬
tain time : but the word, in its present acceptation, im¬
plies a court, place, or time, when and where the writs
and processes, whether civil or criminal, are decided by
judge and jury.
All the counties of England are divided into six cir¬
cuits} and two judges are assigned by the king’s com¬
mission, who hold their assises twice a-year in every
county (except London and Middlesex), where courts
oi nisiprius are liolden in and after every term, be¬
fore the chief or other judge of the several superior
courts ; and except the four northern counties, where
the assises are taken only once a-year) to try by ajury
of the respective counties the truth of such matters of
fact as are then under dispute in the courts of West¬
minster hall. These judges of assise came into use in
the room of the ancient justices in eyre, Justiciarii in
itinere ; who were regularly established, if not first ap¬
pointed, by the parliament of Northampton, A. D.
1176, 22 Hen. II. with a delegated power from the
king’s great court or aula regia, being looked upon as
members thereof : and they afterwards made their cir¬
cuit round the kingdom once in seven years for the pur¬
pose of trying causes. They were afterwards directed
by magna charta, c. 12. to be sent into every county
once a-year to take or try certain actions then called
recognitions or assises; the most difficult of which they
are directed to adjourn into the court of common pleas
to be there determined. The itinerant justices were
sometimes mere justices of assise, or of dower, or of
gaol-delivery, and the like} and they had sometimes
a more general commission, to determine all manner of
causes, justiciarii ad omnia placita : but the present
justices of assise and nisi prim are more immediately
derived
ASS [ 799 ] ASS
Assise, derived from the statute VVestm. 2. 13 Edw. I. c. 30.
explained by several other acts, particularly the statute
14 Edw. III. c. 16. and must be two of the king’s
justices of the one bench or the other, or the chief
baron of the exchequer, or the king’s serjeants sworn.
They usually make their circuits in the respective va¬
cations after Hilary and Trinity terms ; assises being
allowed to be taken in the holy time of Lent by con¬
sent of the bishops at the king’s request, as expressed
in statute Westm. 1. 3 Edw. I. c. 51. And it was
also usual, during the times of Popery, for the prelates
to grant annual licenses to the justices of assise to ad¬
minister oaths in holy times : for oaths being of a sa¬
cred nature, the logic of those deluded ages concluded
that they must be of ecclesiastical cognizance. The
prudent jealousy of our ancestors ordained, that no man
of law should be judge of assise in his own county :
and a similar prohibition is found in the civil law,
which has carried this principle so far, that it is equi¬
valent to the crime of sacrilege for a man to be gover¬
nor of the province in which he was born, or has any
civil connexion.
The judges upon their circuits now sit by virtue of
five several authorities. I. The commission of the peace
in every county of the circuit : and all justices of the
peace of the county are bound to be present at the as¬
sises •, and sheriffs are also to give their attendance on
the judges, or they shall be fined. 2. A commission
of oyer and terminer, directed to them and many other
gentlemen of the county, by which they are empower¬
ed to try treasons, felonies, &c. and this is the largest
commission they have. 2. A commission of general
gaol-delivery, directed to tue judges and the clerk of
assise associate, which gives them power to try every
prisoner in the gaol committed for any offence whatso¬
ever, but none but prisoners in the gaolso that one
way or other they rid the gaol of all the prisoners in it.
4. A commission of assise, directed to the judges and
clerk of assise, to take assises j that is, to take the ver¬
dict of a peculiar species of jury called an assise, and
lummoaed for the trial of landed disputes. The other
authority is, 5. That of nisi pnus, which is a conse- Assize
quence of the commission of assise being annexed to U
the office of those justices by the statute of Westm. 2. Assitl1-
13 Edw. I. c. 30. And it empowers them to try all n,ent‘
questions of fact issuing out of the courts of Westmin¬
ster, that are then ripe for trial by jury. The original
of the name is this; all causes commenced in the courts
of Westminster-hall are by the course of the courts ap¬
pointed to be there tried, on a day fixed in some Easter
or Michaelmas term, by a jury returned from the coun¬
ty wherein the cause of action arises ; but with this pro¬
viso, nisi prius justiciarii ad assisas capiendas vene-
nnt, unless before the day prefixed the judges of assise
come into the county in question. This they are sure
to do in the vacations preceding each Easter and Mi¬
chaelmas term, and there dispose of the cause •, which
saves much expence and trouble, both to the parties, the
jury, and the witnesses.
The word assise (from the French assis, seated, set¬
tled, or established, and formed of the Latin verb assi-
deo, “ I sit by”) is used in several different senses. It
is sometimes taken for the sitting of a court ; some¬
times for its regulations or ordinances, especially those
that fix the standard of weights and measures ; and
sometimes it signifies a jury, either because juries con¬
sisted of a fixed determinate number, or because they
continued sitting till they pronounced their verdict. In
Scots law, an assise or jury consists of 15 sworn men
(juratores'), picked out by the court from a great num¬
ber, not exceeding 45, who have been summoned for
that purpose by the sheriff, and given in a list to the
defender, at serving him with a copy of his libel.
ASSISIO, an episcopal town of Italy, in the duchy
of Spoleto, built on the side of a very high mountain.
The cathedral of St Francis is very magnificent, and
composed of three churches, one above another. E.
Long. 13. 35. N. Lat. 43. 4.
ASSITHMENT, a wiregeld, or composition, by a
pecuniary mulct *, from the preposition ad, and the Sax.
sit he, vice ; quod vice svpplicii ad expiandum delictum
solvitur.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
DIRECTIONS for placing the PLATES of Vol. II.
Part I.
Plate XVIII. and XIX. to face
XX.
XXI. —XXXII.
XXXIII.
XXXIV.
XXXV. and XXXVI.
page 138
*54
278
320
368
380
Part II.
XXXVII.—LVI.
LVII.
LVIII.
J9a
660
788